Chapter 29:
The door of the office opened.
"Hello, Potter, Evans," said Moody. "Come in, then."
Alicia and Harry walked inside. Both had been inside Dumbledore's office once before; it was a very beautiful, circular room, lined with pictures of previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts, all of whom were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling gently.
Cornelius Fudge was standing beside Dumbledore's desk, wearing his usual pinstriped cloak and holding his lime-green bowler hat.
"Harry!" said Fudge jovially, moving forward.
"How are you?"
"Fine," Harry lied.
"Alicia?"
"Been better."
"We were just talking about the night when Mr. Crouch turned up on the grounds," said Fudge. "It was you who found him, was it not?"
"Yes," said Harry. He looked at Alicia who didn't bother to share his glance, if he wanted to tell them she was there too, then it wasn't a technical lie. "I didn't see Madame Maxime anywhere, though, and she'd have a job hiding, wouldn't she?"
Dumbledore smiled at Harry behind Fudge's back, his eyes twinkling.
"Yes, well," said Fudge, looking embarrassed, "we're about to go for a short walk on the grounds, Harry, if you'll excuse us… perhaps if you both just go back to your class —"
"I wanted to talk to you, Professor," Harry said quickly, looking at Dumbledore, who gave him a swift, searching look.
"It's kind of important… I think." Alicia looked at Harry who nodded.
"Wait here for me, Alicia, Harry," he said. "Our examination of the grounds will not take long."
They trooped out in silence past them and closed the door. After a minute or so, Harry heard the clunks of Moody's wooden leg growing fainter in the corridor below. Alicia moved through the room while Harry looked around.
"Hello, Fawkes," he said. Alicia had moved to pet the magnificent bird.
Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, was standing on his golden perch beside the door. The size of a swan, with magnificent scarlet-and-gold plumage, he swished his long tail and blinked benignly at Harry.
Harry sat down in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk while Alicia walked around inspecting instruments the Headmaster had.
"Are we going to tell him about your strange ghost moments?" Harry asked randomly
"Yes." Alicia admitted "I think we should anyway, find out if it is from our cursed bond or what ever."
Harry had no answer. For several minutes he sat and watched the old headmasters and headmistresses snoozing in their frames.
Alicia looked around as he did so, wondering how she was going to explain her strange 'out-of-body' moments. Her eyes fell on the patched and ragged Sorting Hat that was standing on a shelf. A glass case next to it held a magnificent silver sword with large rubies set into the hilt, which was the one Harry himself had pulled out of the Sorting Hat in his second year. The sword had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, founder of Alicia and Harry's House. Alicia was distracted as Harry suddenly got up from his seat. He walked across the office, and pulled open the cabinet door.
"What are you doing?" Alicia hissed as she walked over to him.
Both twins looked down at the shallow stone basin that lay there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols. A silvery light was coming from the basin's contents, which was a strange substance, indistinguishable as a liquid or gas. It was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving ceaselessly; the surface of it became ruffled like water beneath wind, and then, like clouds, separated and swirled smoothly. It looked like light made liquid — or like wind made solid.
"It's a pensieve…" Alicia muttered
"A what?"
"Pensieve." Alicia repeated but Harry still didn't understand. "You can take memories from your mind when you find your head cluttered and store them. If you wish to view them again you can re-watch them, as though you're reliving the moment."
"How do you know?"
"I read thank you very much." Alicia murmured annoyed "I think I want to get one at some stage, be really useful…"
The two stared down at the basin and Alicia looked at Harry who bit his lip.
"Don't touch it." Alicia suddenly said and Harry looked annoyed
"I'm not."
"You thought about it." she muttered.
"I think I've learnt not to do such a thing." he muttered, instead he pulled his wand out of the inside of his robes, cast a nervous look around the office, looked back at the contents of the basin, and prodded them.
The surface of the silvery stuff inside the basin began to swirl very fast.
Harry bent closer, his head right inside the cabinet, Alicia grabbed the back of his robes.
"Be careful." she muttered when he looked at her confused.
The silvery substance however had become transparent; it looked like glass.
"You're not curious?"
"I know how these work remember," she muttered
"Then what's the substance?"
"Kind of hard to explain."
"And you don't want to see what this is?" Alicia pursed her lips, not being able to deny that. Harry bent closer again, looking. Alicia, unable to contain her curiosity, leaned forwards too and both looked for the bottom of the basin, only, instead both saw an enormous room below the surface of the mysterious substance, a room into which they seemed to be looking through a circular window in the ceiling.
The room was dimly lit; it might even be underground, for there were no windows, merely torches in brackets such as the ones that illuminated the walls of Hogwarts. Harry, against Alicia's wishes, lowered his face so that his nose was a mere inch away from the glassy substance. He was able to see that there were rows and rows of witches and wizards seated around every wall on what seemed to be benches rising in levels. An empty chair stood in the very centre of the room. There was something about the chair that gave Harry an ominous feeling. Chains encircled the arms of it, as though its occupants were usually tied to it.
"What is this place?" Harry hardly whispered
"Looks like a court room…" Alicia answered as she watched behind Harry
"Court room?"
"This will be one of Dumbledore's memories, they're sort of private and we shouldn't watch it…"
"Watch it?" Harry asked, naturally though hadn't moved his face away from the pensieve and suddenly was drawn into the basin as though he'd been pushed forwards and Alicia, still holding his robes, was pulled with him.
Neither hit the bottom of the of the basin but fell through the icy-cold, black substance that swirled within it.
Then suddenly both Alicia and Harry were sitting on a bench within the courtroom, a bench raised high above the others. Harry looked up at the high stone ceiling, expecting to see the circular window through which the two had just been staring, but there was nothing there but dark, solid stone.
Alicia however was looking around at the wizards around them, somewhere around at least two hundred of them, none of them had noticed the two, but Alicia hadn't expected them to.
Harry however had turned to the wizard next to him on the bench and uttered a loud cry of surprise that reverberated around the silent room. Alicia turned to see that beside Harry was Albus Dumbledore.
Alicia sighed, of course, this was Dumbledore's memory, so it was Dumbledore's perspective, naturally they'd be with him.
"Professor!" Harry said in a kind of strangled whisper. "I'm sorry — I didn't mean to — I was just looking at that basin in your cabinet — I — where are we?"
But Dumbledore didn't move or speak. He ignored Harry completely. Like every other wizard on the benches, he was staring into the far corner of the room, where there was a door.
"Alicia,"
"We can't be seen," Alicia said simply "I told you, this is a memory, like when we went into the diary to see Riddle's memory. We can't be seen because we're not really here."
As if to check Alicia was right, Harry turned and waved his hand energetically in front of Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore did not blink, look around at Harry, or indeed move at all. And that, in Harry's opinion, settled the matter.
He looked at Alicia who raised a knowing eyebrow and her brother nodded, agreeing with her.
Alicia turned to stare at the corner where everyone else was looking as Harry took in the courtroom. Not a few moments had passed before the door in the corner of the dungeon opened and three people entered — or at least one man, flanked by two dementors.
Harry shied away beside Alicia, and she didn't blame him as she bit her lip, but she knew nothing could hurt her, after all, she was like a ghost here. The dementors — tall, hooded creatures whose faces were concealed — were gliding slowly toward the chair in the centre of the room, each grasping one of the man's arms with their dead and rotten-looking hands. The man between them looked as though he was about to faint, and neither twin could blame him… both of them knew the dementors' power only too well. The watching crowd recoiled slightly as the dementors placed the man in the chained chair and glided back out of the room. The door swung shut behind them.
Alicia and Harry looked down at the man now sitting in the chair and saw that it was Karkaroff.
Unlike Dumbledore beside them, Karkaroff looked much younger; his hair and goatee were black. He was not dressed in sleek furs, but in thin and ragged robes. He was shaking. Even as they watched, the chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff 's arms, binding him there.
"Igor Karkaroff," said a curt voice to their left. Mr. Crouch was standing up in the middle of the bench beside them. Crouch's hair was dark, his face was much less lined, he looked fit and alert. "You have been brought from Azkaban to present evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us."
Karkaroff straightened himself as best he could, tightly bound to the chair.
"I have, sir," he said, and although his voice was very scared, the familiar unctuous note in it could still be heard. "I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I — I know that the Ministry is trying to — to round up the last of the Dark Lord's supporters. I am eager to assist in any way I can…"
There was a murmur around the benches. Some of the wizards and witches were surveying Karkaroff with interest, others with pronounced mistrust. Then, quite distinctly, from Dumbledore's other side, a familiar, growling voice saying, "Filth."
Both Alicia and Harry leaned forwards to look around Dumbledore to see Mad-Eye moody was sitting there — except that there was a very noticeable difference in his appearance. He did not have his magical eye, but two normal ones. Both were looking down upon Karkaroff, and both were narrowed in intense dislike.
"Crouch is going to let him out," Moody breathed quietly to Dumbledore. "He's done a deal with him. Took me six months to track him down, and Crouch is going to let him go if he's got enough new names. Let's hear his information, I say, and throw him straight back to the dementors."
Dumbledore made a small noise of dissent through his long, crooked nose.
"Ah, I was forgetting… you don't like the dementors, do you, Albus?" said Moody with a sardonic smile.
"No," said Dumbledore calmly, "I'm afraid I don't. I have long felt the Ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures."
"But for filth like this…" Moody said softly.
"You say you have names for us, Karkaroff," said Mr. Crouch. "Let us hear them, please."
"You must understand," said Karkaroff hurriedly, "that He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named operated always in the greatest secrecy… He preferred that we — I mean to say, his supporters — and I regret now, very deeply, that I ever counted myself among them —"
"Get on with it," sneered Moody.
"— we never knew the names of every one of our fellows — He alone knew exactly who we all were —"
"Which was a wise move, wasn't it, as it prevented someone like you, Karkaroff, from turning all of them in," muttered Moody.
"Yet you say you have some names for us?" said Mr. Crouch.
"I — I do," said Karkaroff breathlessly. "And these were important supporters, mark you. People I saw with my own eyes doing his bidding. I give this information as a sign that I fully and totally renounce him, and am filled with a remorse so deep I can barely —"
"These names are?" said Mr. Crouch sharply.
Karkaroff drew a deep breath.
"There was Antonin Dolohov," he said. "I — I saw him torture countless Muggles and — and non-supporters of the Dark Lord."
"And helped him do it," murmured Moody.
"We have already apprehended Dolohov," said Crouch. "He was caught shortly after yourself."
"Indeed?" said Karkaroff, his eyes widening. "I — I am delighted to hear it!"
But he didn't look it. One of his names was worthless. Alicia narrowed her eyes, clearly something here was important or Dumbledore wouldn't have been going over these particular memories…
"Any others?" said Crouch coldly.
"Why, yes… there was Rosier," said Karkaroff hurriedly. "Evan Rosier."
"Rosier is dead," said Crouch. "He was caught shortly after you were too. He preferred to fight rather than come quietly and was killed in the struggle."
"Took a bit of me with him, though," whispered Moody to the twin's right. Alicia and Harry looked around at him once more, and saw him indicating the large chunk out of his nose to Dumbledore.
"No — no more than Rosier deserved!" said Karkaroff, a real note of panic in his voice now. Harry could see that he was starting to worry that none of his information would be of any use to the Ministry. Karkaroff's eyes darted toward the door in the corner, behind which the dementors undoubtedly still stood, waiting.
"Any more?" said Crouch.
"Yes!" said Karkaroff. "There was Travers — he helped murder the McKinnons! Mulciber — he specialised in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people to do horrific things! Rookwood, who was a spy, and passed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named useful information from inside the Ministry itself!"
Harry could tell that, this time, Karkaroff had struck gold. The watching crowd was all murmuring together.
"Rookwood?" said Mr. Crouch, nodding to a witch sitting in front of him, who began scribbling upon her piece of parchment. "Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?"
"The very same," said Karkaroff eagerly. "I believe he used a network of well-placed wizards, both inside the Ministry and out, to collect information —"
"But Travers and Mulciber we have," said Mr. Crouch. "Very well, Karkaroff, if that is all, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide —"
"Not yet!" cried Karkaroff, looking quite desperate. "Wait, I have more!"
Karkaroff was sweating in the torchlight, his white skin contrasting strongly with the black of his hair and beard.
"Snape!" he shouted. "Severus Snape!"
"Snape has been cleared by this council," said Crouch disdainfully. "He has been vouched for by Albus Dumbledore."
"No!" shouted Karkaroff, straining at the chains that bound him to the chair. "I assure you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!"
Dumbledore had gotten to his feet.
"I have given evidence already on this matter," he said calmly. "Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am."
Harry turned to look at Mad-Eye Moody. He was wearing a look of deep skepticism behind Dumbledore's back.
"I guess something happened if Dumbledore's giving him a serious second chance…" Alicia muttered to Harry. Harry pulled a face that said he didn't agree.
"Very well, Karkaroff," Crouch said coldly, "you have been of assistance. I shall review your case. You will return to Azkaban in the meantime…"
Mr. Crouch's voice faded. The dungeon was dissolving as though it were made of smoke; everything was fading; they could see only their own bodies and one another — all else was swirling darkness…
"The memory's changing." Alicia muttered and Harry looked at her
And then, the dungeon returned. Harry and Alicia was sitting in a different seat, still on the highest bench, but now to the left side of Mr. Crouch. The atmosphere seemed quite different: relaxed, even cheerful. The witches and wizards all around the walls were talking to one another, almost as though they were at some sort of sporting event. Harry and Alicia noticed a witch halfway up the rows of benches opposite. She had short blonde hair, was wearing magenta robes, and was sucking the end of an acid-green quill.
"Great…" Alicia muttered. It was, unmistakably, a younger Rita Skeeter. Dumbledore was sitting beside them again, wearing different robes. Mr. Crouch looked more tired and somehow fiercer, gaunter…
The door in the corner opened, and Ludo Bagman walked into the room.
This was not, however, a Ludo Bagman gone to seed, but a Ludo Bagman who was clearly at the height of his Quidditch-playing fitness. His nose wasn't broken now; he was tall and lean and muscular. Bagman looked nervous as he sat down in the chained chair, but it did not bind him there as it had bound Karkaroff, and Bagman, perhaps taking heart from this, glanced around at the watching crowd, waved at a couple of them, and managed a small smile.
Alicia looked down at him shocked.
"Ludo Bagman, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters," said Mr. Crouch. "We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce judgment?"
Alicia and Harry stared at one another with their mouths wide open.
Ludo Bagman, a Death Eater? they both questioned
"Only," said Bagman, smiling awkwardly, "well — I know I've been a bit of an idiot —"
One or two wizards and witches in the surrounding seats smiled indulgently. Mr. Crouch did not appear to share their feelings. He was staring down at Ludo Bagman with an expression of the utmost severity and dislike.
"You never spoke a truer word, boy," someone muttered dryly to Dumbledore behind Harry and Alicia. Alicia rolled her eyes, guessing who it was already was Harry looked around and saw Moody sitting there again. "If I didn't know he'd always been dim, I'd have said some of those Bludgers had permanently affected his brain…"
"Ludovic Bagman, you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort's supporters," said Mr. Crouch. "For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than —"
But there was an angry outcry from the surrounding benches. Several of the witches and wizards around the walls stood up, shaking their heads, and even their fists, at Mr. Crouch.
"But I've told you, I had no idea!" Bagman called earnestly over the crowd's babble, his round blue eyes widening. "None at all! Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad's… never crossed my mind he was in with You-Know-Who! I thought I was collecting information for our side! And Rookwood kept talking about getting me a job in the Ministry later on… once my Quidditch days are over, you know … I mean, I can't keep getting hit by Bludgers for the rest of my life, can I?"
There were titters from the crowd.
"It will be put to the vote," said Mr. Crouch coldly. He turned to the right-hand side of the dungeon. "The jury will please raise their hands… those in favour of imprisonment…"
Alicia and Harry looked toward the right-hand side of the dungeon. Not one person raised their hand. Many of the witches and wizards around the walls began to clap. One of the witches on the jury stood up.
"Yes?" barked Crouch.
"We'd just like to congratulate Mr. Bagman on his splendid performance for England in the Quidditch match against Turkey last Saturday," the witch said breathlessly.
Mr. Crouch looked furious. The dungeon was ringing with applause now. Bagman got to his feet and bowed, beaming.
"Despicable," Mr. Crouch spat at Dumbledore, sitting down as Bagman walked out of the dungeon. "Rookwood get him a job indeed… The day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a sad day indeed for the Ministry…"
And the dungeon dissolved again.
"I guess the explains Crouch's distain." Alicia sighed to Harry.
When the room had returned, the twins and Dumbledore were still sitting beside Mr. Crouch, but the atmosphere could not have been more different. There was total silence, broken only by the dry sobs of a frail, wispy-looking witch in the seat next to Mr. Crouch. She was clutching a handkerchief to her mouth with trembling hands.
Alicia and Harry looked at one another before looking at Crouch and saw that he looked gaunter and greyer than ever before. A nerve was twitching in his temple.
"Bring them in," he said, and his voice echoed through the silent dungeon.
The door in the corner opened yet again. Six dementors entered this time, flanking a group of four people. The people in the crowd turn to look up at Mr. Crouch. A few of them whispered to one another.
The dementors placed each of the four people in the four chairs with chained arms that now stood on the dungeon floor. There was a thickset man who stared blankly up at Crouch; a thinner and more nervous-looking man, whose eyes were darting around the crowd; a woman with thick, shining dark hair and heavily hooded eyes, who was sitting in the chained chair as though it were a throne; and a boy in his late teens, who looked nothing short of petrified. He was shivering, his straw-coloured hair all over his face, his freckled skin milk-white. The wispy little witch beside Crouch began to rock backward and forward in her seat, whimpering into her handkerchief.
Alicia looked at them, eying each and recognising a few faces from some books she'd read, but it was the straw-coloured hair boy that caught her attention and her eyes widened.
Crouch stood up. He looked down upon the four in front of him, and there was pure hatred in his face.
"You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law," he said clearly, "so that we may pass judgment on you, for a crime so heinous —"
"Father," said the boy with the straw-coloured hair. "Father… please…"
"— that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court," said Crouch, speaking more loudly, drowning out his son's voice.
"We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror — Frank Longbottom — and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named —"
"Father, I didn't!" shrieked the boy in chains below. "I didn't, I swear it, Father, don't send me back to the dementors —"
"You are further accused," bellowed Mr. Crouch, "of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom's wife, when he would not give you information. You planned to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to power, and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led while he was strong. I now ask the jury —"
"Mother!" screamed the boy below, and the wispy little witch beside Crouch began to sob, rocking backward and forward. "Mother, stop him, Mother, I didn't do it, it wasn't me!"
"I now ask the jury," shouted Mr. Crouch, "to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!"
In unison, the witches and wizards along the right-hand side of the dungeon raised their hands. The crowd around the walls began to clap as it had for Bagman, their faces full of savage triumph. The boy began to scream.
"No! Mother, no! I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't know! Don't send me there, don't let him!"
The dementors were gliding back into the room. The boys' three companions rose quietly from their seats; the woman with the heavy-lidded eyes looked up at Crouch and called, "The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!"
But the boy was trying to fight off the dementors, even though you could see their cold, draining power starting to affect him. The crowd was jeering, some of them on their feet, as the woman swept out of the dungeon, and the boy continued to struggle.
"I'm your son!" he screamed up at Crouch. "I'm your son!"
"You are no son of mine!" bellowed Mr. Crouch, his eyes bulging suddenly. "I have no son!"
The wispy witch beside him gave a great gasp and slumped in her seat. She had fainted. Crouch appeared not to have noticed.
"Take them away!" Crouch roared at the dementors, spit flying from his mouth. "Take them away, and may they rot there!"
"Father! Father, I wasn't involved! No! No! Father, please!"
"I think, Harry, Alicia, it is time to return to my office," said a quiet voice in Harry's ear.
"Sorry professor." Alicia muttered before she turned to him. Albus Dumbledore was sitting on both the twins left and right.
"Come," said the Dumbledore on Harry's left, and he put his hand under Harry's elbow. Alicia placed her hand on Harry's shoulders and both felt themselves rising into the air; the dungeon dissolved around them; for a moment, all was blackness, and then Alicia felt her feet hit the ground again, in what seemed like the dazzling light of Dumbledore's sunlit office. The stone basin was shimmering in the cabinet in front of him, and Albus Dumbledore was standing beside them.
"Professor," Harry gasped, "I know I shouldn't've — I didn't mean — the cabinet door was sort of open and — Alicia said we shouldn't but —"
"I quite understand," said Dumbledore. He lifted the basin, carried it over to his desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for Harry and Alicia to sit down opposite him.
Alicia frowned, they had been invading Dumbledore's personal thoughts, she didn't expect him to be completely calm and collected about it.
"This is called a Pensieve," said Dumbledore. "I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."
Harry looked at Alicia, her having been right about pensieve, she also agreed with having her head cluttered. Harry apparently didn't.
"Er," said Harry
"At these times," said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."
"You mean… that stuff's your thoughts?" Harry said, staring at the swirling white substance in the basin.
"Certainly," said Dumbledore. "Let me show you."
Dumbledore drew his wand out of the inside of his robes and placed the tip into his own silvery hair, near his temple. When he took the wand away, hair seemed to be clinging to it — but it was in fact a glistening strand of the same strange silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve. Dumbledore added this fresh thought to the basin, and Harry, astonished, saw his own face swimming around the surface of the bowl. Dumbledore placed his long hands on either side of the Pensieve and swirled it, rather as a gold prospector would pan for fragments of gold… and both Alicia and Harry saw their own faces change smoothly into Snape's, who opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, his voice echoing slightly.
"It's coming back… Karkaroff's too… stronger and clearer than ever…"
"A connection I could have made without assistance," Dumbledore sighed, "but never mind." He peered over the top of his half-moon spectacles at the twins, Harry of who was gaping at Snape's face, which was continuing to swirl around the bowl. "I was using the Pensieve when Mr. Fudge arrived for our meeting and put it away rather hastily. Undoubtedly I did not fasten the cabinet door properly. Naturally, it would have attracted your attention."
"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled.
"We didn't mean to pry." Alicia frowned but Dumbledore shook his head.
"Curiosity is not a sin," he said. "But we should exercise caution with our curiosity… yes, indeed…"
Frowning slightly, he prodded the thoughts within the basin with the tip of his wand. Instantly, a figure rose out of it, a plump, scowling girl of about sixteen, who began to revolve slowly, with her feet still in the basin. She took no notice whatsoever of Harry or Professor Dumbledore or Alicia. When she spoke, her voice echoed as Snape's had done, as though it were coming from the depths of the stone basin.
"He put a hex on me, Professor Dumbledore, and I was only teasing him, sir. I only said I'd seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday…"
"But why, Bertha," said Dumbledore sadly, looking up at the now silently revolving girl, "why did you have to follow him in the first place?"
"Bertha?" Harry whispered, looking up at her. "Is that — was that Bertha Jorkins?"
"Yes," said Dumbledore, prodding the thoughts in the basin again; Bertha sank back into them, and they became silvery and opaque once more. "That was Bertha as I remember her at school."
The silvery light from the Pensieve illuminated Dumbledore's face, and it struck Harry suddenly how very old he was looking. He knew, of course, that Dumbledore was getting on in years, but somehow he never really thought of Dumbledore as an old man.
"So, Harry, Alicia," said Dumbledore quietly. "Before you got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something."
"Yes," said Harry. He looked at Alicia who indicated for him to go first. "Professor — I was in Divination just now, and — er — I fell asleep."
He hesitated here, wondering if a reprimand was coming, but Dumbledore merely said, "Quite understandable. Continue."
"Well, I had a dream," said Harry. "A dream about Lord Voldemort. He was torturing Wormtail… you know who Wormtail —"
"I do know," said Dumbledore promptly. "Please continue."
"Voldemort got a letter from an owl. He said something like, Wormtail's blunder had been repaired. He said someone was dead. Then he said, Wormtail wouldn't be fed to the snake — there was a snake beside his chair. He said — he said he'd be feeding me to it, instead. Then he did the Cruciatus Curse on Wormtail — and my scar hurt," Harry said. "It woke me up, it hurt so badly."
Dumbledore merely looked at him.
"Er — that's all," said Harry.
"I see," said Dumbledore quietly. "I see. Now, has your scar hurt at any other time this year, excepting the time it woke you up over the summer?"
"No, I — how did you know it woke me up over the summer?" said Harry, astonished.
"You are not Sirius's only correspondent," said Dumbledore. "I have also been in contact with him ever since he left Hogwarts last year. It was I who suggested the mountainside cave as the safest place for him to stay."
Alicia smiled, she knew it. Then her frowned vanished, Dumbledore though Sirius was safe back at Hogwarts?
Dumbledore got up and began walking up and down behind his desk. Every now and then, he placed his wand tip to his temple, removed another shining silver thought, and added it to the Pensieve. The thoughts inside began to swirl so fast that Harry couldn't make out anything clearly: It was merely a blur of colour.
"Professor?" he said quietly, after a couple of minutes. Dumbledore stopped pacing and looked at Harry.
"My apologies," he said quietly. He sat back down at his desk.
"D'you — d'you know why my scar's hurting me?"
Dumbledore looked very intently at Harry for a moment, and then said, "I have a theory, no more than that… It is my belief that your scar hurts both when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong surge of hatred."
"But… why?"
"Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed," said Dumbledore. "That is no ordinary scar."
"So you think… that dream… did it really happen?"
"It is possible," said Dumbledore. "I would say — probable." Alicia frowned, after Crouch's visit she was more than sure it was true… "Harry — did you see Voldemort?"
"No," said Harry. "Just the back of his chair. But — there wouldn't have been anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn't got a body, has he? But… but then how could he have held the wand?" Harry said slowly.
"How indeed?" muttered Dumbledore. "How indeed…"
Neither Dumbledore nor Harry spoke for a while as Alicia stared at her lap, worried and nervous. Dumbledore was gazing across the room, and, every now and then, placing his wand tip to his temple and adding another shining silver thought to the seething mass within the Pensieve.
"Alicia, does something trouble you?" Dumbledore suddenly asked her. She looked up at him
"Did Sirius tell you I had the same dream as Harry?" she asked quietly. Dumbledore nodded "Well, I know I saw it through Harry because you said he and I had a connection and Harry has the connection with Voldemort… but…" she took a deep breath "I remember the dream."
Dumbledore watched her intently.
"And I saw Voldemort." Harry looked at her surprised. "It was like a crouched human child, but… it wasn't." she shook her head in distain "It was hairless, scaly, dark, raw, reddish black. It's arms and legs were thin and feeble and it's face… it was flat, snakelike and with red eyes." she freaked and shook her head as if trying to get the memory from her head, wishing she'd never seen it. "In the dream, he said they'd killed Bertha Jonkins, and that they were going to get to Harry while he was here at Hogwarts, use him for something and kill him in the process." she said with a sigh before finally looking at Dumbledore, his eyes were hard as he examined her.
Alicia took a deep breath.
"After Harry's name came out of the Goblet, I don't know how but I think Voldemort has something to do with it." she breathed "In the dream there were three people, Voldemort, though not really human, Wormtail and a man who they killed, a muggle and then…" she stopped
"Go on." Dumbledore pressed
"This is where I'm confused. The day we left for the Hogwarts Express, September 1st, I had another dream, but this was no were near as vivid or daunting as the first one and at first I thought nothing of it… but now… Sirius said he'd died many years ago after being imprisoned, so how he was in a dream that was, could have been a vision, which Harry didn't see so how did I…" she shook her head. "When Sirius told us about him I thought he was the one who'd put Harry's name in the Goblet, and he was the one who conjured the mark at the Quidditch World Cup, and he was even the one using the Imperius Curse on Mr Crouch and that Mr Crouch had been hiding him and having Winky look after him but… he's supposed to be dead… Sirius saw his body being buried… if he wasn't dead everything would make sense… other than how he's gotten into Hogwarts but…" Alicia rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes closed
"Alicia," Dumbledore prodded and looked at her over his half-moon spectacles as Harry looked at Alicia completely lost.
"It was Mr Crouch's son." Alicia whispered "He was the person in the dream! Someone walked through a door and into the kitchen and Mr Crouch's son was there, bowing. He spoke but I didn't hear what and everything was blurry, or out of focus, except his face. I'd never seen his face before but, even if he was younger, I recognised him from your memory. Sirius said he died and he watched them bury the body! How could he be alive?! If I'd never seen him before, how could it have been a normal dream, where would I get his face from? But I'm not connected to Voldemort so how did I see it? Was it real and if it was, why isn't he dead?" Alicia questioned. "If he wasn't I'd say that the ministry needed to be looking for Mr Crouch's son but…" she shook her head again and put her head in her hands.
"That's a rather good bit of detective work Ms Evans." Dumbledore said "Though only theories…"
"They're always only theories!" Alicia ground her teeth
"Alicia's rather good at piecing information together," Harry said "She figured out Sirius was innocent before he'd even said a word to us last year, and she worked out we were siblings obviously, and that Riddle was responsible for the Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk." Alicia blushed slightly
"Hermione constantly tells them to listen to me when I get like that… there's just always something that doesn't make sense." Alicia admitted. Dumbledore smiled at her
"A quality you, no doubt, gained from your mother." Alicia smiled before she frowned again
"Still doesn't answer the question." she muttered "Or why I remember the dream and Harry doesn't… or why I had another dream and Harry didn't… or…" she trailed off. She turned to Dumbledore again determined and he looked at her waiting.
"Lately, something's been happening to me, Professor." she began "I've been having these… ghost moments." She admitted "I fell asleep in the common room and suddenly found myself with Harry after he'd figured out the clue of the golden dragon's egg. He couldn't see me, it seemed like he could hear me, but no one else could, I couldn't touch anything but the floor I was standing on…" she took a deep breath "The second time was when you put me to sleep for the second task, I accompanied Harry through the Black Lake as he went looking for me, and I was able to touch him and he felt me as well as heard my voice, as soon as I woke up both times I was back in my body again. And then when Harry saw Mr Crouch, I passed out this time and it happened again. I was technically a witness to Mr Crouch's madness but to me he made perfect sense. He had been kidnapped and the confusion of his memories made me think Imperius curse because he'd still been writing to Percy to keep the suspicion down, he said Bertha was dead, and he said something about son too… who I still don't see how he's alive, and that he needed to warn you… Voldemort was getting stronger and Harry was in danger… everything made sense but…" she took a deep breath "I only have these moments when Harry's in trouble or having an adrenaline rush or…" she paused again as Dumbledore watched her "Does this happen because we're linked by this curse? Or is something wrong with me?"
Dumbledore smiled.
"I think you'd find it's a deep connection between your two as twins, helped along by the cursed that effected you both."
"So we're already connected weirdly but the curse Voldemort inflicted gives it more of a… crazy factor?" Alicia asked. Dumbledore chuckled.
"If that's how you'd like to put it."
Alicia sighed and nodded, she felt better that she wasn't crazy but… She didn't understand, how was Crouch's son alive? Sirius had seen the body buried with his own eyes… or could it have been someone else's body? Crouch didn't seem the type to break anyone out above the law… even his son? He didn't seem to care enough about the boy, unlike his wife… could she have asked something of him? Would Crouch have done such a thing? It would explain Winky's actions, and all her words about keeping Crouch's most important secret, he was hiding his son and had broken him out of Azkaban, Rita Skeeter would have a field day on such information.
But if Crouch had broken his son out of Azkaban, then who did Sirius see the dementors burying? Would a polyjuice potion work on dead bodies still? That could explain what Sirius saw… but who could Crouch use? With Voldemort gone by then, there weren't exactly spare bodies to use.
And then the ultimate question, how had Alicia had that dream where she saw Crouch's son in the first place? Harry didn't seem to have had it? So why did she?
"Professor," Harry said at last, breaking the silence that had grown between the three. "do you think he's getting stronger?"
"Voldemort?" said Dumbledore, looking at Harry over the Pensieve. It was the characteristic "Once again, Harry, I can only give you my suspicions."
Dumbledore sighed again, and he looked older, and wearier, than ever.
"The years of Voldemort's ascent to power," he said, "were marked with disappearances. Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace in the place where Voldemort was certainly known to be last. Mr. Crouch too has disappeared… within these very grounds. And there was a third disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to say, do not consider of any importance, for it concerns a Muggle. His name was Frank Bryce, he lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up, and he has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspapers, unlike most of my Ministry friends."
Dumbledore looked very seriously at Harry, then at Alicia, she had just said a muggle has been killed.
"These disappearances seem to me to be linked. The Ministry disagrees — as you may have heard, while waiting outside my office."
Alicia and Harry nodded. Silence fell between them again, Dumbledore extracting thoughts every now and then.
"Professor," Alicia muttered "You wouldn't happen to have a picture of this muggle would you?" Alicia asked. Dumbledore got up and moved behind the desk before coming back with a newspaper, he handed it to Alicia who flipped through the paper until she stopped on the article of Frank's disappearance.
Alicia turned the Article to Harry.
"What do you think?" showing a picture of the man.
"He looks familiar…" Harry muttered and Alicia added
"He's the man we watched Voldemort kill during the summer." Alicia said. They'd seen Voldemort kill a muggle and here Dumbledore said one was missing, what other connection would Alicia have made?
Dumbledore looked at her seriously.
"If this man has disappeared, Bertha vanished and Crouch said she's dead, we saw Frank get murdered and heard Voldemort confess to Bertha's death, of which Voldemort found out about the Triwizard Tournament through, which he was planning on using to get to Harry, and wasn't going to act until after the Quidditch Cup," Alicia began "Then our dream was no dream." she said positively "Which means Crouch staged his son's death, because his son was very much alive in my… vision, I guess it really was." She said seriously "I don't know how but Sirius saw The Dementors bury an impersonating body outside Azkaban. Winky said that she was entrusted to look after Crouch's most important secret, in which she'd keep and Crouch was babbling about his son and how it was his fault." Alicia turned to Dumbledore
"Could it be, that somehow, Crouch's son is in Hogwarts and put Harry's name in the Goblet of fire? Setting up somehow for Voldemort to get to, or in hopes Harry would die, and Crouch realised what was happening, probably when Winky was found in the forest were I suppose his son really was who casted the Dark Mark. If he is conspiring with Voldemort, then he is a Death Eater and would know how to." she said "Crouch said he escaped, could his son have bewitched him to send in letters to Percy to keep suspicion down but had to lock him up as his dad was going to expose him?" she thought. Dumbledore looked at her strongly
"That is an interesting theory." Dumbledore said "One unfortunately we cannot prove." Alicia nodded
"I know. But if I'm right, it could explain where Crouch vanished too, his son could be on the grounds. I mean Sirius was in Hogwarts for a whole year and Rita Skeeter's been buzzing around getting scoops she hasn't witnessed so…"
Dumbledore hummed.
Harry sat in silence and bit his lip, looking like he wanted very much to ask Dumbledore a questioned as they fell into silence.
"Professor?" he said again.
"Yes, Harry?" said Dumbledore.
"Er… could I ask you about… that court thing I was in… in the Pensieve?"
"You could," said Dumbledore heavily. "I attended it many times, but some trials come back to me more clearly than others… particularly now…"
"You know — you know the trial you found me in? The one with Crouch's son? Well… were they talking about Neville's parents?"
Alicia frowned and turned to Dumbledore as he gave Harry a very sharp look.
"Has Neville never told you why he has been brought up by his grandmother?" he said.
Harry and Alicia shook their heads.
"I wasn't sure if it was a touchy subject or not…" Alicia muttered and Dumbledore nodded
"Yes, they were talking about Neville's parents," said Dumbledore. "His father, Frank, was an Auror just like Professor Moody. He and his wife were tortured for information about Voldemort's whereabouts after he lost his powers, as you heard."
"So they're dead?" said Harry quietly.
"No," said Dumbledore, his voice full of a bitterness "They are insane. They are both in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe Neville visits them, with his grandmother, during the holidays. They do not recognise him."
Alicia frowned in shock, not even having your parents recognise you… that couldn't be any better than having them gone… it sounded much more torturous.
"The Longbottoms were very popular," said Dumbledore. "The attacks on them came after Voldemort's fall from power, just when everyone thought they were safe. Those attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known. The Ministry was under great pressure to catch those who had done it. Unfortunately, the Longbottoms' evidence was — given their condition — none too reliable."
"Then Mr. Crouch's son might not have been involved?" said Harry slowly. He looked at Alicia who he could tell hardly believed this anymore. She was sticking with her new theory.
Dumbledore shook his head.
"As to that, I have no idea."
Harry sat in silence once more, watching the contents of the Pensieve swirl.
"Er," he said, "Mr. Bagman…"
"… has never been accused of any Dark activity since," said Dumbledore calmly.
"He doesn't seem the type really." Alicia said with a slight smile in which Dumbledore returned, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Right," said Harry hastily, staring at the contents of the Pensieve again, which were swirling more slowly now that Dumbledore had stopped adding thoughts. "And… er…"
The Pensieve seemed to be asking his question for him.
Snape's face was swimming on the surface again. Dumbledore glanced down into it, and then up at Harry.
"No more has Professor Snape," he said.
"What made you think he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?"
Alicia looked at her brother surprised by the question.
Dumbledore held Harry's gaze for a few seconds, and then said, "That, Harry, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself." Harry nodded and looked at Alicia who hit his arm with an incredulous look.
She decided that was all, they'd told Dumbeldore what they needed, more than intended and Alicia had asked about her ghost periods. Harry stood up as Alicia did, and so did Dumbledore.
"Harry, Alicia," he said as Harry reached the door, Alicia behind him as both turned around. "Please do not speak about Neville's parents to anybody else. He has the right to let people know, when he is ready."
"Yes, Professor," said Harry, turning to go.
"And —"
Harry looked back. Dumbledore was standing over the Pensieve, his face lit from beneath by its silvery spots of light, looking older than ever. He stared at Harry for a moment, and then said, "Good luck with the third task."
