Harry Potter and a Marauder Revival
Author's Note: Hello all! I hope you all enjoyed Chapter 20 of "Harry Potter and a Marauder Revival!" Chapter 21 is a work-in-progress and will be posted THURSDAY NIGHT! Thank you to everyone that has reviewed thus far; it really helps! Don't forget to leave a short-review for Chapter 21 (or a long review if you'd like) and as always, positive and negative reviews are welcomed)!
Chapter 21: The Invitation
"Oh, my dear child, the mythical tones are calling to me with more disturbing news than usual," Professor Trelawney cried out, her hands clamped into fists that slammed onto the surface of the table, making the chinaware rattle about.
"Goodness me, Sybill, I think we have all received our fair share of horrible news lately," Professor Slughorn said, clutching his heart.
"Fear shall reign again, I assure you, very, very soon," she replied, her gaze shifting over to Harry, her eyes amplified by her overlarge glasses.
Slughorn seemed to regain his composure as he looked away from Trelawney and toward his students, a wide smile breaking across his face.
"Yes, well, anyway, as some of you know, I would like to introduce our very special guest, Ms. Sybill Trelawney, the Divination teacher here at Hogwarts. It just so happened that I ran across Professor Trelawney when she had inquired if I had any leftover sherry bottles. 'Indeed I do,' I proudly exclaimed, as I invited her into my office! From there, we started talking about wild antics that are happening outside these walls and we came around talking about this little get together we are having tonight, so I thought it would be for the best if she joined us here on this festive evening," Professor Slughorn finished, his face jovial, his cheeks were a bright red, as if he had just run a marathon.
Silence ensued after the Potions master's little speech; the eyes of the students in attendance were wide.
"Yes…well, on with our little party, then," Slughorn plowed on, as he uncovered his plate that was situated in front of him, revealing a slice of chocolate gateau.
The rest of the students along with Professor Trelawney followed suit; it seemed though as if Professor Slughorn had received the biggest serving of the dessert than anyone else.
As small conversation broke around the round table, Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "Hermione, why does that woman keep staring over at me?"
Hermione looked around and saw Professor Trelawney still had her eyes fixated on Harry. She rolled her eyes as she responded, "Back in third year, Professor Trelawney was obsessed with predicting your death every class period; it was all a bunch of nonsense."
"She predicted my death? Why would she do something like that," Harry asked.
"According to Professor McGonagall, she predicted the death of a student every year; maybe it's for the theatrics as Divination is such a rubbish subject to begin with," Hermione said, annoyance seeping through her voice.
"Why would she dramatize death; I don't think there's anything funny about that," Harry wondered.
"I don't think she found it funny, Harry; Professor Trelawney is, well…she's a bid odd. I know were all are in our own way but she's…well, out there, if you know what I mean. But don't take it personally, Harry, I mean, you're still alive, aren't you?"
Harry nodded as he took another bite of his chocolate gateau when he noticed all side conversations had ceased as Professor Slughorn was looking directly at him.
"I'm sorry," Harry asked, looking around the table.
"I asked you, my dear boy, how are you feeling? You took quite a hit to the head, Mr. Potter, a short while ago," Slughorn asked.
"Oh, right, I feel fine," Harry replied.
Slughorn laughed in a wheezy manor, saying, "Oh, he's so modest!"
Harry looked over at Professor Trelawney who just, not a moment ago, had missed her mouth with her fork, smearing her left cheek in chocolate icing.
Trying to hide his smile, Harry ducked his head and stuffed a knuckle in his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
"Harry, are you okay," Hermione asked, looking over at him.
He merely nodded in reply.
"Now, I understand Cormac, that one of your uncles who works in the Ministry of Magic is actually on friendly terms with the Minister himself," Slughorn asked, turning his head to look to his left.
"Oh, yes, me and my uncle actually went on a trip with Rufus Scrimgeour; this was, of course, before he became the minister," Cormac replied. This piece of information seemed to stun Slughorn, as he now seemed to be hopping up and down in his seat with excitement.
Cormac McLaggen was a Gryffindor seventh-year student; he had a strong build, with curly blonde hair, styled off to the side. Harry saw Cormac staring over at Hermione who seemed oblivious against his gaze; an uneasy feeling started to bubble on the surface of Harry's stomach.
"I know we can't all have our own personal contacts from within the ministry by trust me, Cormac, having connections can propel any career quite far if I do say so myself," Slughorn beamed.
"You're right, sir," Cormac replied, finishing off his dessert.
"Yes, well at any rate -,"
"OH!" As one, every head at the table turned towards Professor Trelawney who had suddenly cried out.
"What is it, Sybill," Slughorn asked concerned, turning his attention towards her.
"I feel such a strong aurora building from within these castle's walls! Oh yes, a mighty and vindictive force will soon be reckoned with," she said loudly, her voice laced with fiery mystique. "I fear, my dears, I am feeling the presence of the G -,"
"Oh for heaven's sake, not the Grim," Hermione cried out noisily, startling everyone. "How many times have you droned on about that silly little omen?"
Professor Trelawney seemed to have been shaken out of her stupor. "Silly little omen, oh my dear, the Grim is the darkest omen in our world," Trelawney said, standing to her feet; Harry noticed she still had chocolate icing smeared across her left cheek.
"The so-called darkest omen in our world holds no truth behind from which we can derive any factual information from," Hermione shot back.
"It does not need to hold any truth! Any open-minded student would understand the validity of such a dark premise!"
"I think you mean more of a foolish premise," Hermione said, she too standing to her feet. "I take offense to the fact that my best friend has always been labeled with this irrational Grim."
"It is something he should take offense for! It is not only the darkest omen in our world for no reason," Trelawney nearly shouted.
"It would be if there was reason to believe such a thing existed!"
As Hermione stared wildly over at Trelawney from across the table, their former Divination professor coldly said, "If you must know, I also sensed your temperament has not changed ever since you left my class three years ago; I cannot say I'm surprised by your spontaneous outburst."
Harry looked up at Hermione who seemed to be flaring with barely suppressed rage. "I for one am quite glad I decided to quit wasting my time with such subjects that hold no validity or importance." With that, Hermione departed from Slughorn's office.
Excusing himself, Harry quickly stood up from his chair and followed Hermione out of the office to an awe-inspired Professor Slughorn and Cormac McLaggen.
"Hermione! Hermione, wait up," Harry said, running to catch up with her. "What was that about?"
Without looking at him, she kept walking on, still refusing to answer his question. He decided she needed time to cool off as he had never seen Hermione confront any professor that held authority before.
"I just cannot stand how she goes on and on about the Grim. I mean, that was three years ago and she still tags you with that rubbish omen! I know you don't remember it, Harry, but back in third year, every single Divination class, she would not stop talking about it. It was like she was signing your own death sentence," Hermione explained.
"Yeah, it doesn't seem like something I fancy, if I'm to be completely honest with you," Harry remarked, making Hermione smile slightly.
"The whole subject of Divination is just a bunch of guess-work if you ask me," Hermione continued. "I don't understand why we are even required to take that class."
"Well, maybe some good can come from taking it," Harry suggested.
"Like what?"
"I don't know exactly, but there are things in which we don't or we can't understand now, but one day, I believe we all will; we'll begin to understand more than we could possibly imagine," Harry replied, looking over at Hermione.
"When have you become so philosophical, Harry," Hermione joked.
"There's nothing philosophical about it; just the facts of life," he replied, giving her a small smile.
As they continued to walk through the castle, Harry asked, "Did you see McLaggen staring at you, Hermione?"
"Yes but I chose to ignore him. He's vile," she whispered.
"Really? What makes you think so," Harry asked.
"I heard him bashing the Gryffindor Quidditch team."
"He talks bad about his own houses' team?"
"Yes, he…well he didn't particularly think Ron is the best keeper for Gryffindor," Hermione said slowly. "He was boasting in the common room a few nights after the match that if he was keeper, he wouldn't have let any goals get past him."
"Has he always been thick-headed," Harry seethed.
"I don't know, actually. I only met him this year," Hermione remarked. "But I know enough about him to which I think I'll keep my distance from him."
Harry nodded his head, suddenly feeling as if a hand that had unknowingly started squeezing his stomach together in a vice-like grip mere moments ago had relinquished its hold over Harry.
"Hermione, you don't think the Grim is real," Harry suddenly asked, thinking upon their earlier conversation after they had departed from Slughorn's party.
"No, I don't, Harry. Having you walk beside me at this very moment is enough evidence for that," she replied. "Why do you ask?"
"It's just that I can't help but feel that death omens do exist, with everything that is happening now," he stated. "All of these murderers and deaths…it's going to get worse, isn't it?"
The harsh reality had seemed to settle itself upon the two young students. Hermione looked troubled as she answered, "Yes, Harry, I think you're right. Since I obviously don't have the gift of a Seer, I believe things are going to take a turn for the worse."
"I wonder what students thought about their future during the first war," Harry said. "I can't imagine their time being much better than ours."
Hermione thought back to her and Harry's reprieve back to 1976 mere weeks ago: it seemed as if life had continued to go on inside Hogwarts no matter how dark the situation was becoming outside its walls.
"I think Harry, it's important to remember to live. After all, life is short: after blinking a few times, we'll all be old enough to reminisce about things we wished we could have done when we were younger."
"That's if we survive this war," Harry remarked.
"Harry, you mustn't speak like that. It's almost as if you have given up before you could even get started!"
"Hermione, you have already described Voldemort to me. It's not hard to register that he has magic much beyond my own ability. He also has those, what did you call them, Death Eaters I think, at his command. It's like reading the writing on the wall."
Hermione remained quiet as she looked at Harry. Sighing lightly, she said, "Harry, many people have faith in you. I know that could be adding an extra burden on your shoulders but it should give you some sense of hope. Many people want to rid our world of V-Voldemort and his Death Eaters. You are not alone in this fight with him.
"It's like you said, Harry. We don't understand why everything happens but the truth of the matter is, is that everything happens for a reason. And one day, we'll understand it. But that day is not today. All we can do is continue on with life; when the time comes to face our enemy, we will do it together."
Harry looked over at Hermione and slowly nodded his head. After all, she was right, he decided; it was no use feeling dreary about a future in which he knew nothing about. Hope was something he could ransom unto himself that would keep him losing hope in the dark days yet to come.
Right before the pair turned a corner, they heard harsh voices spring about. Harry put out an arm in front of Hermione and pushed her behind him instantly.
"I told you before, I can't tell you what it is I'm doing! Just do as I say," one voice said.
"Why is it we have to listen to you? Did you forget that your father get himself locked up in Azkaban just a few months ago," another voice whispered back venomously.
"What does my father have to do with anything? The Dark Lord gave this job specifically to me. If he didn't tell you of his plan, that's not my problem."
"You filthy little swine; you think you're so important just because the Dark Lord gave you a job you seem incompetent of successfully carrying out! Please, spare us when death comes knocking on your door!"
"I don't bloody care if have no faith in my abilities to follow through with what the Dark Lord has entrusted to me. Clearly, I'd be surprised if you had an ounce of courageousness to say this in the presence of the Dark Lord!"
A scuffling sound was heard until two voices broke up exchange. "Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Goyle, may I ask what the two of you are doing out of your beds after hours?"
Harry recognized that voice instantly as to none other than Professor Snape. He heard Hermione gasp audibly in his ear. Refusing to be caught, Harry motioned for Hermione to back up slowly and quietly.
As they did so, Harry could hear one of the voices reply, "I was patrolling, professor, and Goyle was with me as we were discussing our project we had to complete for Potions."
"So it seems," Professor Snape drawled. "Would you care to head back to your dormitories; I shall patrol from here on."
Harry heard two pairs of feet head off away from them. Feeling a tug on the back of his light coat, Harry found himself inside a dark classroom.
"We have to wait until Professor Snape is gone," Hermione whispered.
The two students crept farther and farther into the dark space, making their way away from the door.
To their horror, in the next instant, the door banged open, letting light pour into the room. Harry and Hermione dived behind separate desks, covering their mouths as to not let their breathing give them away.
Hard footfalls were heard as Professor Snape walked along each aisle, in-between each desk, the sound of his shoes against the concrete floors echoing between the four walls of the classroom.
Harry, crouched over in a terribly uncomfortable position, did not dare make any sound. As the footsteps grew ever closer, Harry decided to hold his breath. The footsteps came to a sudden stop, though Harry did not know why for he could not see Snape from his vantage point.
Of what seemed like an hour later, Snape strode out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him, plunging the space into total blackness.
Harry took out his wand a muttered, "LUMOS." Crawling out from behind his hiding space, Harry lifted his wand higher into the air to give the room more light. To his right, he saw Hermione walking over to him.
"Do you think he's gone," she whispered softly to Harry so that he could barely hear her.
"I don't know," he replied.
"I think we should wait just in case," she said back.
"Okay," Harry replied. They both suddenly heard a sound just outside the door. Hermione reacted by gripping Harry's arm tightly. "NOX," Harry whispered, extinguishing his wand tip.
Harry and Hermione took steps away from the classroom door, fearing as if Professor Snape might come back and check the room again for any signs of life.
Their breaths were the only sounds that could be heard in the room; their eyes transfixed on what lie beyond the closed door. Harry felt Hermione shiver involuntarily as he, himself, felt his breathing quicken.
Harry abruptly heard Hermione gasp about. Whipping out his wand and turning towards her, he was confused when he saw her head was turned towards one of the room's lengthy windows.
Slightly annoyed, Harry asked, "What is it?"
"Harry, look outside," Hermione whispered, nodding her head towards one of the windows.
Harry crept up toward the glass pane and looked outside. "I don't see anything," he commented, looking upon the empty grounds of Hogwarts.
"No, Harry, look up," Hermione responded.
When he did so, he was filled with an awestruck wonder: the night sky seemed to be burning a dark blue yet, millions of bright, twinkling stars were scattered among the vast area. As the horizon was indistinguishable, it seemed as if the midnight blue setting continued on forever.
"It's beautiful isn't it," Hermione asked quietly.
Harry looked over at her before returning his gaze out of the window. "Yes, it is." The two students stood there, transfixed by sight and not of sound, gazing into the wonder of beauty shining brilliantly against depressing times.
"I think we should head back," Harry said after a few quiet moments, "We do have class tomorrow."
"Yeah, you're right," Hermione replied, tearing her gaze away from the windows. The two Gryffindors silently made their way back over to the door which Harry opened slowly, the object squeaking in protest.
Harry poked his head to his left and right, seeing if anyone was in the corridor he and Hermione were about to enter. Finding the passageway deserted, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and the two quickly made their way back towards Gryffindor Tower.
Harry wondered if Hermione had felt the slight electric surge he felt when their hands met one another.
"Hermione, what do you think that conversation was about," Harry asked, noting the harsh tones that Malfoy and Goyle were using against each other.
"I don't know but it didn't sound good at all. It seemed as if Malfoy was up to something and Goyle was trying to figure out what it was. The strange thing about this whole is thing is that Malfoy always tells Crabbe and Goyle everything."
"Who's Crabbe," Harry asked, shooting Hermione a puzzled look.
"Oh, he's another one of Malfoy's thugs. In reality, both him and Goyle probably couldn't find their way out of Hogwarts even with a map," Hermione replied.
"But the three of them are good friends?"
"Presumably so, yes; I mean they have been together since first year."
"But that's not how friends talk to each other," Harry responded innocently.
Hermione laughed as she said, "Harry, you're so simple sometimes; not that that is a bad thing. Sometimes simplicity is the answer to all things unseen."
"Scurvy Cur," Hermione said when the pair reached the portrait that led into their house common room. The Fat Lady looked at both of them grudgingly but she let them enter nonetheless.
"I don't know how much weight that conversation held between Malfoy and Goyle but I think it's something that we shouldn't let bother us."
"It sounded serious though," Harry replied. "It could be something that affects us in the end."
"Maybe so and maybe not; Malfoy is known for his brash arrogance. That obviously doesn't explain the fact why he didn't tell Goyle of his plans but he kept insisting Voldemort had entrusted this plan to him. But tonight, there's nothing we can do about it. I think it's best just to get some sleep."
Seeing as it was so late into the night, Harry and Hermione were not surprised to the find the common room completely empty upon their return. The two wandered up the spiral staircase and up the landing that led off to their respective dormitories.
"Well, good night, Harry," Hermione said, looking up at him.
He smiled tightly and replied, "Good night, Hermione." With that, the two students went off in opposite directions and into their own dormitories.
Upon entering his, Harry instantly heard Ron's snores filling up the room. Shaking his head in mock disbelief, Harry changed into his pajamas, climbed between his warm sheets of his bed, and closed the curtains. Just a few minutes later, he drifted off into a peaceful slumber, his thoughts drifting far away from Malfoy and Goyle and closer and closer towards Hermione Granger.
After waking up the following morning, Harry got dressed and headed down to the common room, sitting down in a nearby armchair, his eyes still drifting close on their own accord as his sleepiness still weighed heavily on him.
"Morning Harry," Ron yawned, plopping down next to Harry. "The party any fun," he asked, as Harry noted his tone had several notes of bitterness in it.
"To an extent; we didn't really do much except have chocolate gateau and Professor Trelawney was there too."
"Professor Trelawney?! What was she doing there," Ron asked, his eye wide with attention.
"Slughorn invited her after she asked him if he had any leftover sherry," Harry replied.
"Did she talk about the Grim again," Ron asked sarcastically, a smile creeping onto his face.
"As a matter of fact, she did."
Upon hearing Harry's answer, Ron's grin slipped away instantly. "Honestly, I don't think she ever got over the fact you didn't die after third year with her predicting your death every class or so," Ron joked. "I mean, you're still here now, aren't you?"
"It seems so, doesn't it?"
As Ron laughed, Hermione came down the stairs. "Good morning Harry and Ron. Shall we go get some breakfast?"
"Yes, I'm starving," Ron grumbled as the trio walked out of the portrait hole.
"Ron, why are you always hungry," Hermione asked, looking over at him.
"Hermione, people have got to eat," he replied.
"Anyway, I have something to tell you." Harry listened as Hermione told Ron about the conversation she and Harry had overheard between Malfoy and Goyle the night previously. When she finished, she asked, "So what do you think?"
"It sounds like Malfoy was showing off to Goyle," he replied.
"That's what I initially thought but when has Malfoy kept anything from Crabbe and Goyle? I cannot remember a time where he did so."
"Well, we don't exactly follow those dunderheads around all the time," Ron replied. "I mean, I'm not one to agree with Malfoy but would you reveal any important plans to people as thick as Crabbe and Goyle?"
"Well…no but that doesn't mean Malfoy probably hasn't before. Anyway, it's not like Malfoy is the brightest of the bunch either, when you stop and think about it." Ron merely shrugged his shoulders in reply.
As the three made their way into the Great Hall, Ron asked, "Did you two see the notice board in the common room since last night?"
Hermione shook her head and replied, "No, why?"
"Because Hogwarts is hosting a training lesson for apparition," Ron exclaimed excitedly.
"Oh, that sounds wonderful," Hermione said.
"Yeah, it costs twelve galleons and you have to sign up in the common room," Rom explained. "The first class is this Saturday."
After the three sat down at the Gryffindor table, they were shortly joined by Ginny. "Morning everyone," she said, sitting down across from Harry.
"Good morning, Ginny," Hermione said, smiling over at her.
"You guys excited to start practicing apparating," Ginny asked, looking at the three in turn.
"Well, I just told Harry and Hermione as they hadn't heard about it until now," Ron said, his mouth full of ham.
Ginny turned to Harry and asked, "You didn't hear about it before?"
Harry shook his head as he said, "Hermione and I were at Slughorn's party last night and we got back pretty late."
"How was that party? That seventh-year student, McLaggen, was bragging about a personal invite just a few nights ago," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.
"It was okay; nothing special really," Harry answered.
"Hang on: you said you got back late. How late did this party go to," Ginny asked, eyeing both Harry and Hermione in suspicion.
"Harry and I overheard Malfoy and Goyle arguing with each other. Professor Snape came by so we hid in a nearby classroom," Hermione said.
"What were Malfoy and Goyle fighting about," Ginny asked.
"Well, apparently, Voldemort – get a hold of yourself, Ron – gave Malfoy a task he had to do and he wouldn't tell Goyle what it was; that was pretty much the extent of it," Hermione answered.
"Leave it to Malfoy to show-off even to his so-called friends," Ginny said bitterly. "Anyway, I'm off to class. See you guys." With a wave of her hand, she left the table but not before she looked back over her shoulder to Harry and gave him a discreet smile.
Feeling rather uncomfortable, Harry asked, "Is Malfoy really that bad?"
Ron started choking on his pumpkin juice. Harry thumped him on the back a few times before Ron sputtered, "Is Malfoy that bad? Harry, that's like asking is nighttime really that dark? Of course he is!"
"Excuse him, Ron, that Harry doesn't really remember some of these rather unimportant personality traits," Hermione said coldly.
Ron ignored her as he continued, "Malfoy is like this sickness you can never get rid of. He's a downright nightmare, thinking everyone else besides him is a waste of space and fresh air."
As Ron kept regaling Harry over and over with how foul Malfoy was, Harry was suddenly sorry he had ever asked if Malfoy really was a bad person. The trio headed off their lessons.
The three continued on with their day attending their classes one after the other. As soon as they were finished for the day, Harry and Hermione traveled back to Gryffindor Tower where they immediately went to the notice board and scrawled their names upon the list of students that would be practicing apparition this upcoming Saturday.
After Harry had signed his name under Hermione's, he heard a voice call out, "Harry Potter?"
Harry turned and saw a young boy looked up at him. "Yes," Harry replied, looking down at him.
"Um, I was told…I was t-told to g-give this to you," he stammered, his cheeks burning a bright red, as he held up a roll of parchment.
"Um, thanks," Harry responded shortly as the boy scurried away.
"Who's it from, Harry," Hermione asked.
"I dunno," he replied, unfurling the roll of parchment. Reading it once, he suddenly said, "It's from Dumbledore."
"Professor Dumbledore? What does he want with you," Hermione asked again, looking over Harry's shoulder so that she could read the note.
"I guess he'll find out soon enough," Ron answered, appearing behind Harry's other shoulder and taking a read of the note himself.
"Well, you'd better go then, Harry," Hermione said. He nodded his head in silence once before giving a quick wave to Ron and Hermione before he exited Gryffindor Tower.
As Harry walked to the headmaster's office, he wondered what on earth could the headmaster of the school want with him. Maybe to check up on him to see if he had regained his lost memories, perhaps?
A short time later, Harry stood in front of the gargoyle that stood in front of Professor Dumbledore's entrance. "Uh," Harry stuttered, looking down at the note, "Toffee Éclair?" At once, the gargoyle jumped aside, revealing a winding staircase ascending upwards.
Harry jumped on the stairs and he soon found himself standing in front of the door to the headmaster of Hogwarts. After knocking softly three times, a voice called out, "Enter."
Harry opened the door and stepped into the office of Albus Dumbledore. "Ah, Harry, please have a seat," Dumbledore said, waving his wand and making a comfortable-looking armchair appear instantly. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."
"Oh, it's no problem, sir," Harry replied. "Although, I'm not entirely sure why I am here?"
Dumbledore smiled warmly over at Harry from behind his desk as he said, "I'm afraid, Harry, there are things that must be discussed between us that are part of our now sobering reality. But before we partake in that conversation, I must ask you if you have regained your memories?"
"No, I haven't but things are beginning to become clearer to me but my memories are still somewhat non-existent," Harry said; though something inside of Harry told him Dumbledore already knew the answer to that question.
"Very well, Harry. I believe that in due time, you shall regain your lost memories, which I am sure is a welcome relief. Am I also to understand that Miss Granger has filled you in with details regarding the current climate that encompasses our community at the present time?"
"Are you referring to Voldemort," Harry asked.
"Yes, Harry, I am referring to Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore responded.
"Hermione has told me almost everything. She told me that it was through a recent event in which the Ministry of Magic actually believed Voldemort had come back."
"Indeed it was, a very recent event in fact. And this is why I have asked you to come tonight: Harry, right now, we are in an open war. With the Ministry of Magic finally declaring the return of Lord Voldemort, lines have been drawn and the fighting has begun. People are starting to choose sides now and their choices may very well be one of the last choices they ever make."
"Like Madam Bones," Harry inserted.
Dumbledore looked over at Harry for a long moment before nodding his head. "Yes, a terrible, terrible loss. She was a great witch, perhaps the brightest witch of her age."
"There's something I don't understand about her death though."
"And what is that, Harry?"
"Well, the Daily Prophet said that she was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"That is correct."
"Didn't she have any other protection with her at all times? It would seem like everyone who is against Voldemort is a target now," Harry reasoned.
"I completely agree and so did Madam Bones for she did have protection that night with her," Dumbledore replied.
"She did," Harry asked. "But the Daily Prophet didn't say anything about it."
"Yes, you're absolutely right about that, Harry, yet this is where matters take an unsettling turn. You see, the aurors that were there that night for Madam Bones' protection were also murdered by Lord Voldemort."
"But why wasn't their deaths reported in the Daily Prophet then?"
"Because the two aurors that were on duty were both Muggleborn." Dumbledore clasped his fingers together and rested them under his chin as he watched Harry over his half-moon spectacles.
Harry thought about Dumbledore's answer before recognition finally hit him. "So the Daily Prophet didn't think the deaths of two people who come from non-magical families are important enough, do they," Harry spat out, disgusted with the prejudice some people still had against others.
"Yes, Harry; I am afraid that is correct."
"But what about the second story of the man who killed his Muggle parents?"
" That man was placed under the Imperius Curse which is one of the three Unforgivable Curses making it against the law to cast one," Dumbledore explained.
"How can we still be so cruel to one another in times like these? I mean, it's like you said, there's a war going on and people are still obsessed with the idea of whom and who isn't Muggleborn?"
"While I agree with your sentiments Harry, it is important to remember that we are all human beings; imperfect though we always strive for the unattainable. Vying for the impossible is what makes human beings so great yet it also highlights our flaws. We sometimes run a course for which we see no end in sight yet we still will ourselves to complete it. On the other hand, that same course could be a route which never ends, only we are too blind to see it.
"However, my topic of discussion tonight is indeed about Lord Voldemort. A man, if one can still call him as such, that is so evil and nefarious, that people still fear to speak his name. These are difficult times that we are in, Harry, and very soon, there will be a time in which everyone must make a choice: to side with good or evil. Yet, in times of darkness, people will latch onto a hope of sorts, of something they believe can end the horrific reign of Lord Voldemort."
"And that person they are looking to is me," Harry interrupted. Noticing Dumbledore's questioning look, Harry explained, "Hermione told me about the title of 'The Chosen One' that my persona has seemed to have unwillingly adopted."
"And what do you think of that title, Harry?"
"It adds a lot of pressure on me," he replied truthfully. "I have no extraordinary skills that I could possibly use against Voldemort."
"But you do, Harry. You have the ability to love. Your relationships with your friends and, although you do not remember it now, your family, comes into play every day of your life. Before the end, it will come into play again."
"And 'love' is supposed to defeat Voldemort?"
Dumbledore smiled as he said, "Love is the one thing Lord Voldemort fears for he does not understand the concept of it. A feeling or sorts in which he has never had access to nor does he have access to now. He doesn't understand it, Harry and as reality shows, people fear what they don't understand."
"I'm not sure I follow you, sir," Harry said.
"You won't understand initially, Harry, and for your sake, I'm sorry to say it is not my job to explain it to you. You, yourself, have to find out the true meaning of love and how you can wield it in your favor. To put it bluntly, you and Lord Voldemort are on a collision course; at the end of the road, you two will come face to face. But remember, Harry, no one lasts forever."
As Harry nodded his head, indicating he understood, Dumbledore stood up from his chair, opened a drawer of a nearby unit, and pulled out an object in which Harry did not know.
Seeing the puzzled look in Harry's eyes, Dumbledore smiled warmly as he said, "This, Harry, is a pensive. It is a device in which one can store memories to look upon at any time. We are here tonight to use this for the sake of helping you to understand Lord Voldemort better."
"Do you mean to say that these memories we will be traveling into are Lord Voldemort's," Harry asked.
"Oh no, not his memories but memories of him," Dumbledore explained, pulling out a thin flask in which a flurry, thin strand was resting in. "These memories are important collections that I have looked upon over the years and now, I'd like you to see them."
Harry looked in Dumbledore's warm blue eyes and nodded his head in acceptance. Seeing his nod, Dumbledore removed the topper of the flask and poured its contents into the pensive.
"When you are ready, Harry, I want you push your face under the surface of the pensive."
Harry took a deep breath and walked forward. Looking down into the depths of the object, Harry dunked his face into the surface. Feeling as if a cold wind had rushed through him, Harry felt himself falling down into the memories containing a young Lord Voldemort.
Sometime later, Harry found himself walking back towards Gryffindor Tower, his mind racing with thoughts about what he had seen in the pensive of a very young Tom Riddle, and his days at an orphanage.
Entering through the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry was surprised yet pleased to find Ron and Hermione had waited up for him.
"So mate, how did it go," Ron asked.
"What did Professor Dumbledore want," came Hermione's voice laced with wariness.
Harry replied, "Actually, all Dumbledore wanted was to help me understand Voldemort better." When Harry said the name 'Voldemort,' Ron convulsed violently.
Ignoring his bodily actions, Hermione remarked, "Wow, that is fascinating. What did he do to try to help to understand him better?"
"He showed me memories about his past. He showed me a memory of when he was young and at an orphanage."
"You-Know-Who was an orphan," Ron interjected, his mouth falling open.
Harry nodded and said, "Yes, he was."
"I didn't know that."
Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Yes, I'm sure many people did."
Before Ron had time to answer back, two rolls of parchments tied with a crisp bow suddenly appeared in front of Harry and Hermione.
"What in the name of -," Ron began.
Harry and Hermione both took their respective rolls and untied the bow. As Ron looked over Harry's shoulder, Harry read aloud, "You are cordially invited to Professor Slughorn's annual Christmas Ball that is to take place on the evening of December 20th, starting at eight come nightfall. You may bring one guest in which the attire is set as formal wear. I look forward to spending what is sure to be the most enchanting evening of the year with you!"
After initial shock had left Harry about being invited to Slughorn's Christmas ball, his heart skipped a beat when he read that he was allowed to bring one guest. Immediately after finishing reading his invitation, Harry looked up at Hermione. However, he noticed something was wrong for Hermione was wearing a sorrowful expression.
Following her gaze, Harry saw Ron stamping up the stairs, his head bent low. For at that moment, Harry realized only two invitations had been sent and Ron was excluded.