AN: You need to understand that the reason Harry didn't dump all his bad memories into the pensieve is because he needs to remember. You can't just go and forget all of your bad memories because you don't like them; including the pensieve isn't a method for forgetting. As Dumbledore said, the pensieve is supposed to help clear your thoughts if you feel that your mind is too crowded.

And I guess I don't really know where this story is going yet. There's going to be a climax and a plot and all that…but this is just the beginning of what I hope is a large story. If any one has any suggestions, feel free to tell me. Bah, I can't believe I have a writer's block already…even if it is only a minor one. I'm such a novice.

Also, I'm not too sure about the pairing now…about the only pairings I stand by are Harry/Ginny or Harry/Luna. Tonks just seems too old, Cho is too whiney, Hermione just…no, and I don't see Harry dating any Slytherin. I'm very picky usually. And most people don't seem to like Harry/Ginny, so…I'll think about it. I'm not much of a romantic person anyway. ;) Okay, sorry for rambling and boring you all to your deaths.

Thanks for all of the reviews!

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"Wormtail…your impertinence is beginning to get on my nerves. How could you have failed the simple task of destroying a town of sleeping wizards?"

"I-I am sorry My Lord, we underestimated them…expected them to be defenseless." Replied Wormtail, bowing nervously.

"Fool!" Voldemort exclaimed, eyes flashing. "Did we at least have any gain at all from the trouble we went through? Or was it a complete failure on your behalf?"

"We—we did manage to catch someone who might provide useful information about the ministry…with a little persuasion, of course." Wormtail added, seeming slightly more confident.

"Who is this person?"

"I-I think his name was Kingsley Shacklebolt…"

"Interesting…"

"He is also an active member of the Order, My Lord."

"Is he now? Maybe sending you imbeciles there wasn't so useless after all…"

"T-Thank you, master," Wormtail stuttered, and dropped to the ground to kiss Voldemort's robes.

"Leave me," Voldemort told him, snatching his robes away and walking towards the fire. "I wish to be alone."

"Of course," Wormtail murmured.

Harry Potter woke up and took a deep, shuddering breath. He had been surprised when he found himself in a vision—he hadn't seen one since he was at Hogwarts. Harry took out a quill, ink, and some parchment, and hastily wrote a note to Dumbledore.

Dear Professor,

I think Kingsley Shacklebolt has been taken hostage, but I'm not entirely sure. I don't really see why Voldemort would try to trick me again; I'm not stupid enough to fall for the same thing twice.

I just thought you should know.

-Harry

Harry prodded Hedwig, (who opened one eye blearily and nipped angrily at his finger for waking her up,) and sent the letter with her.

Harry now felt restless as his anxiousness over the situation wormed its way uncomfortably through his gut. Harry sighed, pulled out a book from the loose floorboard under his bed, and started to read. The sun had just begun to rise when Harry saw a something flying in the horizon.

It took Harry a few moments to realize it was a white owl–most likely Harry's own, heading for his house. Harry opened the window and patiently waited for Hedwig to reach him. Hedwig fluttered through Harry's window, landed on his desk, and stuck out her leg, letting Harry remove the note attached.

Dear Harry,

Thank you for alerting me on this matter. It turns out that Kingsley is indeed missing. However, it is still crucial that you practice Occlumency, because Voldemort still holds the power to possess you.

Please stay happy, Harry, I know for a fact that is what Sirius would want for you. Stay strong, too, for without strength, we will surely fail.

Remus will be picking you up today early, expect him around noon.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

He was glad that he got to leave the Dursley's early, but Harry found himself annoyed with Dumbledore. How could he possibly know what Sirius wanted? Sirius was dead! He scowled, and stretched out on his bed.

Harry recalled flashes of recent dreams where Sirius fell beyond the veil, the brief moment of terror on his face before he fell, that changed quickly to anger directed at Harry. Sirius had yelled to Harry, "it's all your fault!" just before he had fallen, then everyone that surrounded Harry changed into the faces of people who had died because of him, all of them telling him it was his fault.

Don't think about that, Harry scolded himself, but found that he couldn't. He bit his lip, still watching the scenes flashing by in his subconscious. The first time he was witnessed the dream, his face had been stark white, and he sat on his bed in stunned silence. Now he was used to it.

Harry felt greatly burdened, as any normal person would've been; over the prophecy, Voldemort, Sirius, Cedric, Dumbledore, Hogwarts, his parents…but the thing he felt terrible about being burdened by were his friends. Harry felt like he had to work just to make them understand him last year and now he felt like they were only going to get killed for being his friends in the first place.

Harry decided to quit mulling over his depressing thoughts and he went to pack his trunk. He began to rummage through it to check that everything was there.

"Ow!" Harry exclaimed, a broken piece of glass wedged in his finger. He pulled the glass shard out gently and looked inside his trunk. There lay the remains of the broken mirror that Sirius and Harry's father had used to communicate when they were in school.

What gave me the right to destroy it? Harry thought. He decided he would fix it once he got back to Hogwarts.

Now that he thought about it, everything Sirius had given to him was either taken or destroyed. His Firebolt was chained in the Hogwarts dungeons, the knife had melted, and he shattered the mirror…

Harry sighed and sat on his bed, which moaned in protest. Harry stared at a stain on the wall until finally, the Dursley's woke up. Harry sat up quickly and ran down the stairs.

"Slow down, boy!" Aunt Petunia shouted.

"Er—sorry, I just needed to tell you that one of my friends is coming to pick me up today at noon."

"WHAT?" She screeched in terror, dropping her washcloth, "One of those—those—freaks?"

Harry regarded her with an irritated look. "He was one of my professors."

Petunia looked around her house as though she would spot neighbors squatting behind her sofa eavesdropping, then snapped at Harry, "he'd better leave quick, I don't want one of…your lot hanging around here. Having one around here is enough already."

"I'd highly doubt he'd want to stay for tea," Harry replied sardonically.

Petunia scowled at him, picked the washcloth off the ground, then returned to the kitchen. Harry heard fragments of her muttering: 'freaks,' 'destroying the house,' and 'dressed like hippies.'

Remus arrived in brown trousers and a plain white shirt—Harry didn't think he looked bad at all compared to his usual tattered robes, but the Dursley's seems to think otherwise. Harry could see the sneer working it's way up his Aunt's face, and the way his Uncle's face grew slightly red.

Harry embraced Lupin, which only made his uncle's face redden more. Lupin smiled lightly, ignoring the Dursley's.

"How are you doing?" He asked. Harry instantly knew whom he was indirectly speaking of.

"Fine," Harry mumbled and hastily changed the subject, "Want me to get my things?"

"I'll help."

On the way up the stairs, Lupin told Harry quietly (so the Dursley's wouldn't hear) that he would be taking Harry to Mrs. Figg's, and they would Floo over to Grimmauld Place.

"Will Kreacher be there?" Harry asked as they entered his room, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

"No, Dumbledore's modified his memory to the point where he can barely recognize his own name. He's been sent to Mungos."

"Good," Harry said coldly. Remus did not respond; he only grabbed Harry's trunk, and Harry took Hedwig's cage.

They left the house and the Dursley's acted as if they were no longer there. Petunia was humming as she cleaned the kitchen, Dudley was eating a bag of chips in front of the television, and Vernon was sipping his coffee, reading the newspaper. Lupin and Harry walked across the street silently to Mrs. Figg's, and Lupin rapped on her door roughly when they got there. The door creaked open instantly.

"Remus! Great to see you," She said brightly, "and you too, Harry. Come in, come in."

She was wearing her tartan slippers and a rather moldy looking green robe. She ushered them inside.

"Can I offer you two anything? Tea? Biscuits? Maybe crackers, I'm sure I have crackers somewhere…"

"That's quite alright, Arabella, but we need to hurry and get Harry to Grimmauld."

Harry felt a rushing gratitude towards Lupin, who saved him from the stale biscuits and cold, flavorless tea.

"Oh, alright then. The fireplace is back there," she stuck her thumb in the direction of the door behind her.

"Thank you," Lupin replied, smiling warmly. He beckoned Harry to follow him, and pulled a small pouch from his pocket.

"You go first. Make sure you say 'Grimmauld Place,' very clearly."

Harry nodded, and Lupin tossed some Floo powder from the pouch into the flame. The fire roared and turned an emerald green, which Harry anxiously stepped into. He closed his eyes and hugged Hedwig's cage to his chest. "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!"

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I'll bet the last bit was boring for you to read, as it was for me to type. Please continue the friendly reviews!