Chapter 69
The Pensieve
Cassie stood up from the table and shook her head. "I don't understand this. I don't understand it
at all. Why my parents?"
"What do you mean? They don't want you to know where they are. That's all." Molly was
gathering the now-empty plates and set them in the dishwasher. Arthur muttered something about
being worn out that the two of them retreated upstairs. Cassie said good night to them and also to
Remus and Tonks, who both claimed exhaustion and retreated up the stairs as well. When it was
just the seven of them again, Cassie whirled to George.
"No! I mean, how did they know that my parents were my parents?"
"Uh- Blackman found out, remember. He was suspicious from the beginning."
"I know. But let's think about this for a minute. I need a sheet of parchment and a quill! I think
better when I can write things down!" She looked around frantically but couldn't see anything she
could write on. "I need something to write on, please, George!"
"Okay, um. I think up in my room I have something." Before he could even move toward the
stairs, though, Hermione thrust a piece of parchment and a quill into her hands. Cassie grinned but
then sat down again at the kitchen table and started scribbling. She drew three columns and
labeled them "What we know," "what they think," "what they know." She started writing down
thoughts as fast as she could, her writing very sloppy after almost three weeks' hiatus from having
to use a quill. But when the list was done, she read it over, her brows furrowed.
George was sitting there, trying to be supportive, but Cassie could tell he had no idea what she
was doing. "Okay- Imagine you're Blackman."
"Do I have to?" At her look, he sighed. "Okay, I'm Blackman. Now what?"
"You're a wizard and you have this Muggle employee who is a good worker, but he never causes
problems. He just does his thing, very well."
"Yeah. All right."
"So, you think you see his daughter, once, just a brief glimpse, somewhere she shouldn't be. You
ask about it. He gives you a plausible story about her being in Switzerland at school. You don't
hear another thing about her. Oh, you're still curious, but you never see her or her picture or
anything. A whole month passes without any confirmation that she even exists, much less what
she looks like or that that was her in the first place."
"Okay."
"All of a sudden, out of the blue, you become convinced enough that this girl who you're looking
for is the employee's daughter - you understand, convinced enough - that you risk having wizards
break into his house to look for evidence! What changed?"
George shook his head. "I'm sorry. I still don't follow."
"What makes you so sure that this daughter is the girl you want?"
"Your dad said that he checked at the school you were supposed to go to-"
"Why?"
"I'm nervous. I'm still looking for this girl and-"
"That's exactly it! Why look at this employee!! It makes no sense. Not unless-" She stood and
started pacing. George didn't interrupt her. "You would have to be sure. Something else pointed
you in his direction. Something that made it almost a sure bet. Something that made it worth the
risk! But what could it have been? What changed between last week and this week?"
"I don't know."
"Someone told you something. Someone knew something. Someone-" She took a very deep
breath. "Someone betrayed me."
George stood up. "No. No. There's no reason to think that!"
"So, it's just a coincidence then? Is that what you think?"
"Maybe he was just not finding anything else and . . . ." His voice trailed off and he sat back
down. "No one knows about you."
"Are you kidding? There are many, many people who know about me!" Cassie could feel the
panic almost choking her now. She had been betrayed, but she had no idea who it could have
been. All she knew was that now her parents' and brothers' lives were threatened, and so was hers.
"But we've been really careful, Cassie."
"Not careful enough!" She started pacing again. "Someone told them. It could have been anyone.
Professor Snape - he hates me! And then there's Angelina and"
"Hey!" Fred spoke up for the first time. "She wouldn't do that!"
"Sorry. But that's my point. We're sure no one would have, but someone did." She took George's
hand. "I have to leave. My cover's been destroyed. I'm endangering all of you by being here."
"Cassie, that's ridiculous."
"It is not! They have to know who I am now! Especially now that they've seen the pictures. And
they probably know where I'm staying. It only makes sense, really." She groaned and paced with
more panicked energy. "Maybe Draco's even seen the stupid things now and he would certainly
recognize me - blonde hair or not! And I bet they know about you -- and me! That's probably
why they came to the store today! They thought I might be there! Oh, God! They wanted to take
you so that they could get me! It's suddenly obvious to me! The game has been played. We've
lost!" She could feel her voice getting shrill in her panic. George stood up and grabbed her
shoulders, shaking her slightly until she looked at him.
"Cassie! Calm down! You're getting hysterical! Even if the entire world knew you were the right
girl and knew you were here at the Burrow, they could not get you!"
"How do you know?" She wanted to believe him, she really did, but she didn't know how.
"That fact that my mum, my dad, and Harry are still here should be proof enough. If it was just a
matter of walking up to the front door and knocking, don't you think the Aurors would have done
that a long time ago? It's warded, Cassie. And I don't even understand how heavily. But I do
know it is really strong. Strong enough to keep out the entire Ministry, the Aurors, and even
You-Know-Who."
"I-"
"You're safe here. As safe as anywhere else in the entire world that you could be right now."
"But-"
"And that's what I'm saying. Tomorrow you are going to go and take that potion and let them pull
out that blasted cursed memory and get this entire bloody mess over with. Then you will really be
safe and you can go home and go on with your regular life!" George's voice was now almost as
hysterical as Cassie's had been and she stared in at him.
"Oh, I-" She wanted to say that she really didn't want to do that. She didn't really want to go back
to her life the way it had been before, that she wanted to be with him. That she wanted to stay
here always; but the words froze in her mouth. Suddenly, a shaft of homesickness shot through
her with such ferocious force that she was momentarily breathless. "Do you really think that will
be enough." George sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
"I don't know. On one hand, Dumbledore says that if he just knew who they were, it would take
care of it, but on the other hand, he knows six of them and not one of them has been arrested."
"He needs evidence. Not just someone's word for it that they were there. That's why." Hermione
was biting her lip, thinking hard.
"But what good is seeing this memory going to do? It will still just be her word for it. They'll
know the other two, but otherwise, they'll still be in the same situation." Harry looked at
Hermione for an answer to his question.
"I don't know. I really don't. But I . . . Well, Dumbledore may not be perfect, Harry, but he is
smart. And he does know what he's doing. So if he says that it will help, it must be able to help."
Cassie sighed. "I wish I was as confident. What if it doesn't help at all?"
"There's no use worrying about that tonight. Maybe Dumbledore will tell you in the morning."
Ginny shrugged and approached Cassie, slipping her arm around her shoulders and handing her a
cup of hot cocoa. Cassie smiled and drank it happily. Her throat was a little sore from the yelling.
The others all had some, too, and Cassie smiled at the now-familiar routine of Ginny getting them
all ready for bed with something warm and soothing.
After a few minutes where they all sat drinking their cocoa and thinking, Ron spoke. "He said he
had witnesses. Maybe they'll accept the memory as evidence or something." He shrugged.
"Otherwise, why bother to have them? He was all worried about the memory staying pure and
stuff, remember? So, maybe if they know the memory hasn't been tampered with - it'll at least be
enough to have them questioned."
"That makes sense, I guess." Cassie suddenly felt exhausted. It had been an extremely long and
stressful day and she was pretty positive that she wouldn't be able to sleep no matter what,
worrying about tomorrow. "I guess I really should go up to bed." She looked up the stairs. They
suddenly looked very steep and she wasn't sure her legs would support her the whole way.
"Stay down here with me for a bit. I'll see that you get to bed soon." George took her hand and
pulled her away from Ginny. Ginny scowled.
"I want her to come upstairs and go to bed."
"She will. Just not right now. In a minute." Cassie didn't protest as George led her into the living
room, sat down on one of the chairs, and pulled her into his lap. She rested her cheek against his
chest, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady under her ear. She stared at the fire burning and
crackling in the grate and tried to relax. His arms were strong around her waist and she felt her
breathing becoming deeper and slower as he murmured calming nonsense words to her. Ginny
poked her head out of the kitchen door a few minutes later.
"I mean it, George. She needs her rest. Who knows what that potion will do to her?" Cassie
wanted to protest but the leaden weight of her limbs prevented her from moving. George's chin
was resting on the top of her head and she was so comfortable that she decided it wasn't worth
the effort. George grunted some reply and the door to the kitchen shut again.
"She's a bit of a mother hen to you." His voice was calm, only slightly amused.
"Sometimes." She said. "Other times, I'm a mother hen to her."
"She likes you a lot. She told me you're like a sister to her." Cassie didn't answer. She wasn't
really sure what to say and she wasn't sure she had the energy to get into a long discussion. "Your
parents were incredible tonight, Cassie. I - I thought they might be angry or hysterical, but they
were calm. Your dad set off the alarm, did Dad tell you that?"
"No." Her voice was quiet and sleepy to her ears and Cassie wondered vaguely if Ginny had
drugged the cocoa she had given her.
"Yeah. My dad had hooked up the fireplace for Floo calls even though they can't really use it or
anything. He thought it might come in handy. So he gave them this canister of powder to throw in
if they were ever in danger and couldn't portkey out."
"Oh." One syllable answers seemed to be all she was capable of at the moment, but George didn't
seem upset about her lack of sparkling conversation
"So your dad was tied up, I guess, and managed to get the canister out of his pocket and pass it to
your mum who passed it to your brother and then the other one. All this while wizards were in the
other room and could have come in at any minute. My dad said your family all seems to be cool
under pressure. Anyway, your brother Matthew is the one who threw it into the fire."
"Oh. I hope it made a big noise. He likes big noises." She could feel herself drifting off and was
almost certain now that Ginny had given her something to make her sleepy.
"It did, unfortunately, because he didn't get it in far enough. They threatened him if he didn't say
what he had thrown in but he didn't say. They were threatening your dad, too, but he didn't give
you up, either. Then we got there and rescued them."
"You're brave." George laughed softly and Cassie smiled at the way it rumbled through his chest.
He was stroking her arm gently with his hand and her eyes drifted shut.
"There's all sorts of bravery, Cassie. You're one of the bravest people I know." Cassie wanted to
protest but she couldn't get her mouth to move and then suddenly it didn't matter anymore
because the velvety blackness pressed down on her and she knew nothing more.
Cassie stretched and opened her eyes, then closed them again suddenly as the morning sun
intruded on their sensitive pupils. "Ugh!" She tried again, cracking them open and glancing at the
clock through one half-lidded eye. "It's eight! I've got to get up!" She sat up and blinked, several
things coming to her in a succession of realizations. First of all, she felt rested and refreshed, more
so than she had in a long while. That potion Ginny slipped her must have really been good stuff.
Then, she realized she was alone in the room, the other girls obviously having woken up probably
more than an hour ago. As she stood up to go to the loo which she needed to with a desperation
that was really making itself known, she realized she was still fully dressed other than her shoes
being removed. She sat back down on the bed. She remembered falling asleep on George's lap
(how embarrassing) and he must have carried her up the stairs. She wondered why Ginny or
Hermione hadn't helped her, but decided it didn't matter now. She had to get dressed for the day.
She knew the whole pensieve thing was supposed to happen at 10 but thought that they may need
to leave early or something.
She stepped out into the hall in her stocking feet and padded to the bathroom. Fortunately, it was
empty and she hurried into the shower and got herself ready. She was just starting to braid her
hair to get it out of her face when there was a knock at the door. Ginny was smiling at her when
she opened it. "I thought I'd do your hair this morning if you wanted me to."
"You didn't have to drug me like a stubborn child last night. I would have taken it willingly,"
Cassie challenged as she quickly undid the half-done braid.
"Maybe. Sorry. We were worried about you."
"Did George know?"
"No. He wasn't too happy with me this morning. He wanted to talk to you. He was pretty
unhappy when I told him that I had done it." Cassie could see her own eyes, wide in the mirror as
she looked through it at Ginny who was blowing a warm stream of air over her hair now.
"Why did he . . . I mean, can't we talk tonight?" Cassie had a sudden fear that George was
convinced this potion wouldn't work and she would go mad and he'd never be able to speak to her
again.
"If you're here."
"What? Why wouldn't I be here?"
"Calm down. I'm not trying to imply you'll be at St. Mungo's or anything. I'm just saying."
"Saying what, though?" Cassie was genuinely confused and wanted to shake her head to clear out
the cobwebs so she could understand what Ginny was trying to ay to her, because she certainly
wasn't getting anywhere quickly otherwise.
Ginny looked mildly put out but then she smiled. "You might go home today. I mean, if
everybody gets identified and caught and everything, maybe this will all be over and you can go
back home." Cassie stared at her friend through the mirror. Her first thought was a rather foul
swear word.
"I'd never even thought of that."
"Well, it could happen." Cassie stared at herself in the mirror and wondered why the thought of
being home tonight, safe, with her parents and everything didn't fill her with more joy.
"But tonight is New Year's Eve."
"Yeah, I know. We're going to have a bit of a celebration here. Even though I'm not sure what the
coming year will hold." Ginny's eyes looked faintly shadowed and Cassie knew better than to
think the worry was for her. It was for Harry.
"Okay." Cassie wasn't really sure what to say. She suspected that even if everything went
brilliantly today she would not be going back home so soon. The wheels of justice didn't move
that quickly, even if they were moving for wizards. However, she also realized that it was possible
she would be sleeping or maybe even have such a bad headache that she wouldn't even be able to
come down and join the family even if she was still here. "That sounds fun. What do wizards do
on New Years' Eve, anyway?"
"They hurry out of the bathroom so that others can use it! Hurry up!" Cassie and Ginny smiled at
each other. Tonks sounded rather desperate.
"Interesting tradition, that! I'll have to remember it!" Cassie called back through the door, and
laughingly the two girls went back to their room to finish her hair. When they went downstairs a
few minutes later, Molly started fussing over Cassie which she knew to be a sign that she was
worried about her. She wanted to reassure her but couldn't really, so she settled for smiling and
allowing herself to be fed, watered, and fussed over, which seemed to make Molly very happy.
George was sitting across the table staring at her and Cassie kept trying to elicit a smile but he
seemed so tense that none were forthcoming.
"Stop staring at me, George! You're making me wonder if you think I'm going to die." He just
shook his head in response.
"I really wish you didn't have to do this."
"But I do. So, don't make it harder, okay?"
He just went back to staring and after a bit Cassie gave up trying to talk to him and just ate.
"What time are we going?" She finally got brave enough to ask.
"Soon." His one word answer was enough to send her stomach into new spasms of back flips and
she noticed her hand was trembling as she drank the last of her pumpkin juice.
The portkey they were using this time was a very odd looking little kitchen gadget and Cassie was
so interested in looking at it that she missed the countdown and landed hard and on her butt as
usual in Professor Dumbledore's office. George, Arthur, and Remus looked down at her and
smiled and she felt like a big idiot. "I'm never going to get the hang of traveling that way. Sorry."
George helped her off the floor. His hands were slightly sweaty and Cassie gulped. She wanted to
be brave, she really did. But since everyone (particularly George) was treating her like these were
her last few moments on earth, it was hard to be very optimistic about the outcome of this entire
experience. Professor Dumbledore came in only a second later and Cassie started. She hadn't
heard his approach. "Hello, Professor."
"Hello, Miss Robinson." He smiled around at the other three men. "I appreciate your coming
today." Cassie glanced around the office, which looked very similar to how it always looked
except that all the painting frames were empty.
"Where are all your paintings?"
"Away."
"Why?"
"The short answer, my dear, is that I am still in hiding. No one is to know I am here and if there is
one thing those paintings are good at, it's gossip. So, they haven't been here for quite some time. I
miss them, a bit. Don't ever tell them I said that. If you do, I'll never hear the end of it. Now, why
don't you sit down. We have about an hour before the others arrive and I really want to talk to
you a bit before then." His smile was calm.
"All right." Cassie sat and felt like giggling nervously. She bit her lip instead and stared down at
her hands. George sat down next to her and she felt somewhat reassured when he took her hand,
although it was still sweaty. Or maybe that was hers.
"I trust Harry was able to tell you all about pensieves."
"He tried to. And Hermione looked up the potion. She said it was very complicated and that it
would make me sick and give me a terrible headache." He smiled broadly.
"I trusted she would be able to find it. I'm afraid she's right on both counts. Nausea does tend to
be a side effect, although if you don't know what's in it, maybe that won't be quite so
pronounced." Cassie's eyes widened as the Headmaster grimaced to himself. "Anyway, the
headache is actually a result of fooling around with your memories. I hope it won't be too bad for
you today. I will be quick." He looked at her steadily. "If you do get sick, there's a toilet right
through that door. Feel free to use it." Cassie didn't know whether to thank him or not. After all,
he was going to be the one giving her the stuff that might make her puke. She wound up not
saying anything because he continued without a pause, though, and she was glad. "You say Harry
tried to tell you about pensieves."
"He did a lousy job," said George. "But none of the rest of us were able to do much better."
"I see. Well, they are a little complex." He stood and opened a cupboard. When he came back
over to where she was sitting, he had a very heavy looking stone basin in his hands, he made a
sort of pulling motion with his head and one of the side tables zoomed over to him and he set the
basin on it. "This is my pensieve." Cassie stared at it for a moment and knew that George was
doing the same. Harry had been right about the liquid in the basin. It did sort of look like molten
silver, but not. It kind of glowed with a strange light and Cassie wanted to bend forward and look
inside. She could see shadows moving, but could not quite make out what they were doing. She
wanted to, more than anything else at the moment. Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and
she looked up at him in surprise.
"Sorry."
"That's all right. They tend to do that, draw you in."
"Harry said you would probably just watch the memory rather than go inside it. Is that true?"
"Actually, pending agreement of my two witnesses, I actually had hoped to go inside."
"But . . ." Cassie wanted to protest, but actually something else was nagging at her so she asked
the question she really wanted answered. "Do you actually fall into the liquid? How does that
work, exactly?"
"It's magic, of course. Rather difficult to explain. I -" He looked at Arthur and Remus, who were
sitting on the far side of the room. "Would you like to see a memory? See how it works exactly?"
"Oh, yes!" Cassie thought that sounded like a marvelous idea.
"Well, then . . . let's do that." Professor Dumbledore pulled his wand from his pocket, put it to his
temple and a moment later held it over the basin. On it, was attached a thin thread of the same
silvery stuff in the bowl and Cassie understood how Harry had thought it was his hair at first. He
dropped the "memory" into the basin, where it joined the others softly glowing with promise.
"Now, just bend forward, Miss Robinson, until you actually can see into the . . ." Cassie bent
forward and then when she thought her nose would certainly touch the liquid, she found herself
falling through a hole in the ceiling and she landed upright on her feet in a room she had been in
many times, although never looking like this. She exclaimed in surprise but before she could do
anything else, George appeared beside her, looking as shocked as she was sure she did. Professor
Dumbledore appeared as well, then Arthur joined them. Cassie wanted to ask where Remus was,
but she got distracted by what she was seeing.
"We're in the Great Hall." She looked around her, trying to remember to breathe. The room was
lit with hundreds of glowing candles suspended in midair and the students seemed tense with
excitement and nerves. She glanced upward and the enchanted ceiling showed it to be dark
outside on a clear night. She had the vague thought in the back of her head that she should be
looking up into the Headmaster's office, but she wasn't. "But when?"
"It's a feast. I daresay you've never been to one of those. Very elegant, um?" She looked up to the
head table and laughed. Professor Dumbledore was sitting there, looking much younger, smiling
broadly. She recognized Professors Snape and Flitwick easily as well as Professor Sprout and
even Professor Trelawney, though she looked about 100 years younger than when Cassie had
seen her last. There were some people she did not recognize, though, and she turned to look at
students instead.
"When was this, Professor?"
"You'll see soon." George started at her side.
"This was -"
"Shh, Mr. Weasley. Let her be surprised."
"I don't see Harry or anyone sitting at the Gryffindor table." She walked over to the table in
question and looked at some of the students. "I don't see anyone I recognize."
"Really?" George was laughing and Cassie looked at him, puzzled.
"Look here." Her eyes widened because there, practically right in front of her, he and Fred were
sitting. Well, much younger versions of themselves. Much younger.
"Oh! That's you! And Fred!"
"Yep."
"But - how old were you here?"
"Thirteen, I believe. I'm quite sure."
"Thirteen?" Cassie approached the young George, who was currently stealing his twins' wand.
"You were very cute."
"Thank you. There's someone else you should recognize." Cassie looked down the table and saw
Percy, who was scowling deeply at something one of the other students had done and was
opening his mouth to begin a lecture when the doors to the Great Hall opened and every head in
the room, including Cassie's, (adult) George's, Professor Dumbledore's, and Arthur's turned to see
who was coming inside. Professor McGonagall, looking younger and happier than Cassie had ever
seen her, entered the hall and led a column of small children up to the front of the room. But then
Cassie laughed. These were not small children, these were first years! And there was Harry,
looking pale, scrawny, and terrified, his bright green eyes practically glowing in the dim light of
the candle-lit room. Ron was standing right next to Harry and Cassie thought he looked like he
was going to pass out in terror. He was quite tall compared to the others, but none of them came
up much past Cassie's elbow. She looked around for Hermione and laughed again when she found
her at the front of the line, craning her head to take in everything at once. They all laughed as they
watched the sorting ceremony and clapped along with everyone else when Hermione, then Harry,
then Ron all got sorted into Gryffindor (by the talking hat, Cassie noted to herself) along with all
the other girls and boys that Cassie had gotten to know at school and several whom she had never
met. She stared daggers at Draco Malfoy but he was oblivious to her bad intentions and trooped
happily over to the Slytherin table to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, who were already sitting
sulkily on the bench. She wanted to watch for longer, but Dumbledore announced they had been
there long enough and she found herself standing in his office again.
"That was . . . well, that was . . . Thank you, Professor!" Cassie looked at George, who was
grinning rather goofily at her.
"So you think I was cute at 13?"
She grinned goofily back. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?" She turned back to Professor
Dumbledore, who stirred the contents of the basin and poked his wand into it, withdrew a slender
silver thread and apparently put it back into his head, as the strand disappeared.
"That was a happy memory for me. The first time I laid eyes on the boy Harry had become. He
was . . . . Well, he does look so much like his father. It was almost breathtaking." He smiled at
them and Cassie didn't stare when she saw his eyes were very bright. She glanced down at her
clasped hands, instead, and gave him a moment to collect himself. "What did you think, Miss Robinson?"
"It was amazing! But certainly you won't be able to see that much detail in my memory! It was
only a split second."
"Perhaps not. But the brain records a lot of detail that you do not even recognize or recall. For
example, I am quite sure that I had never realized until this moment how terrified Mr. Weasley
looked. I had assumed that he would know what to expect having had several older brother come
to Hogwarts before him."
"It didn't help that Fred had told him he would have to wrestle a mountain troll and win to get
into Gryffindor," said George and Cassie could have sworn that she heard a suppressed laugh
before she whipped her head back around to stare at the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
"I see. That does explain quite a bit. Now," he shook his head and grinned at George. "Honestly I
don't know how Hogwarts survived you two. Back to business." He looked at Cassie, his eyes
earnest. "Do you have any questions or concerns?"
"About a million of them, but I don't think any that are that important."
"All right. Well, our witnesses should be here very soon. I have told them, Miss Robinson, the
whole story. The truth. They needed to know. I imagine that they will have questions for you.
Answer them as completely and honestly as you possibly can. If there is something they ask that I
am not expecting and do not want them to know, I will speak up and tell them that you cannot
answer the question."
"Who's coming?" George asked. "I'm very uncomfortable with this idea."
"You know them both. You have no reason to worry for Miss Robinson's safety. I . . ." He never
finished his sentence, though, as two witches suddenly appeared in the middle of the room,
looking flustered. One of them fell down and Cassie could completely relate as she struggled to
stand and brushed off her robes.
"Albus," they both said at once. Arthur and Remus smiled broadly and approached the two
newcomers who were busily shaking Professor Dumbledore's hand. The older witches and
wizards spoke quickly and then Professor Dumbledore introduced them to Cassie, who wiped her
hands nervously on her jeans.
"Miss Robinson, this is Madam Amelia Bones. She is Head of the Department of Magical Law
Enforcement. Her niece, Susan, is in Harry's year at Hogwarts. Did you meet her?"
"I don't think so." She said regretfully as she shook the older witch's hand. "What house is she in, Madam?"
"Hufflepuff."
"Oh. Is her last name Bones, too?" At her aunt's nod, Cassie smiled. "I do remember her, actually.
Very nice girl."
"Thank you. Is it true that you're a Muggle?" Her gaze was penetrating through the monacle she
wore and Cassie squirmed a bit.
"Yes. I am." But before either of them could comment further, Professor Dumbledore introduced
the other witch.
"And this is Miss Vivian Bascombe. She also works for the Ministry, unofficially, in the Dark
Force Defense League." The witch was younger than Madam Bones, though not by much. She
shook Cassie's hand firmly.
"I must say, if this plot involves half the complexity and mystery that Albus hinted it might, you
have done the Wizards of Britain a huge favor my coming forward with what you know."
"Thank you."
Something suddenly crossed Cassie's mind. "Madam Bones?"
"Yes?"
"If you're head of law enforcement . . . how can you be here without arresting Professor
Dumbledore, Arthur, and Remus?"
George laughed. "Are you upset about that?"
"Well, no, of course not. I was just curious, that's all." Cassie was suddenly very embarrassed she
had asked.
"That's a good question. However, today happens to be my day off and so I am here completely
unofficially and I am quite sure that by the time I do get back to work next Monday I will have
forgotten where I did see these three hardened criminals. Pity, really. Quite a nice reward out for
their arrest." She laughed and her eyes twinkled. Then her expression got serious. "I would like to
hear for myself your version of the story of what happened that night. And then I believe Albus
has something for us to see."
Cassie gulped. She didn't mind telling the story, only it was embarrassing to admit how stupid she
had been and how much danger she had put everyone into because of that stupidity. "All right. It's
been almost a month, though. I hope I remember all the details."
"Before she begins, why don't you make yourselves comfortable, ladies?" The Headmaster helped
them get seated into some of the comfortable squishy chairs he favored, Arthur and Remus joined
them, and all six of the others looked at Cassie, waiting for her to begin.
"It was a Wednesday night and Arthur and Remus came to get me because they thought I may
want to . . . .and I hid back in the boxes and then they left and then Remus took me home." Cassie
wound down her long story with a sigh and took a drink out of the glass of water sitting on the
table for her. It had been difficult to retell to these new people, more difficult than she had
expected. They hadn't offered any comment, just asked questions if she hadn't made things clear
or if they wanted to know why she thought something or what had made her do something else.
"Since that night, I've been able to pick out a few of them in pictures, but there are still two others
that we cannot identify."
"Hmm. Albus, I don't need to tell you that for Muggles to use pensieves is impossible."
"Not impossible, but very dangerous." He nodded at Madam Bones. "I've made a potion that will
allow me to remove the memory."
"This seems fairly drastic. Certainly it cannot be that difficult. Show her pictures of all the Death
Eaters and our problems will be solved." Dumbledore sighed.
"I wish it were that easy, Vivian. We did that almost immediately, once she was safe. But she
didn't recognize any of them, other than Lucius, I mean."
"That makes no sense. They must be Death Eaters. Who else would . . ." Professor Dumbledore
handed them each a piece of parchment. They both read over it, their eyes wide. "This is
impossible. Completely impossible. You're asking me to believe that . . . these men would . . . but
why? What is . . . what . . .these men would never work for You-Know-Who!" Both women were
reading over the list again and again as though waiting for the punch line of a very bad joke.
"No. Lord Voldemort is not involved in this plot." Both women winced at the name.
"But Lucius . . . we all know that he . . . but Nightscall? No, this is utterly impossible! You are
asking me to believe that they are actively supporting You-Know-Who?"
"Amelia. Please, listen to me for a moment." Cassie felt vaguely panicked, now. These women did
not believe her, refused to believe that these people could be evil. And Professor Dumbledore had
trusted them. If they didn't believe her, what were the chances of anyone else believing her? She
looked at George, who was also looking quite upset at the women's confusion. He was about to
say something when Professor Dumbledore shot him a look and he shut his mouth.
"I'll give you a moment, Albus, but I have serious doubts as to whether I'll actually be following
through on viewing the memory in the penseive. She's obviously delusional." Miss Bascombe
pressed her lips together and Cassie sighed.
"Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. The boy who singlehandedly defeated Lord Voldemort when
he was nothing but a baby. The boy who everyone expects will defeat him again - if they believe
he can be defeated at all." Cassie hid a smile as the women winced again at the name.
"What does he have to do with this?"
"Everything. Absolutely everything." He had their attention now. And Cassie's, to be honest.
Harry seemed to be only on the periphery of this story, only involved at all because Lucius Malfoy
hated him. Or at least that is what she had thought. "You could not know, ladies, how many times
Harry has faced Lord Voldemort in his years here at school. If you did, you would run screaming
from this castle. They have fought many times and to be honest, there were many instances when
Harry rightfully should have died. He lived through his own courage and wit and unfailing desire
not to surrender to him. But he also lived because of one thing, one small detail that even he has
not acknowledged. And that is -" he held up his hand when Miss Bascombe looked like she was
going to interrupt. "And that detail is that Lord Voldemort has become obsessed with the idea of
killing Harry Potter in some grand and glorious way to prove that what happened that night 16
years ago in Godric's Hollow was a fluke, an accident, a mere trifle. He is convinced that if he
somehow gains power without soundly and completely defeating Harry Potter, then his victory
would be hollow, that everyone would still think he was a weak wizard, able to be defeated by a
baby." There was a long moments' silence as the witches (and everyone else in the room)
absorbed this idea. Professor Dumbledore continued. "He is not content just to have him dead.
No. That is not good enough. He wants Harry to admit that he has been bested, that he has been
defeated. He wants everyone to see that he, Lord Voldemort, has triumphed. Many times, Harry
has been in the hands of the Death Eaters when any one of them would have been capable of
killing him, but they have been unable to do so, because they have known with certainty that were
they to do so, Lord Voldemort would kill them in turn, and he would not make it quick and
painless. They have always saved him for their Lord and in so doing, they have allowed him to
continue to be defeated. Time after time."
"That makes sense, I guess." Madam Bones finally said, nodding slightly at Vivian, who nodded
back.
"And he may be annoying and evil, but Lucius Malfoy is not stupid. He can see this flaw in his
Master and he is tired of waiting. I am sure that his plan was fairly straightforward when initially
concocted. Find a way for Harry Potter to be killed by someone else, not a Death Eater,
preferably the Ministry. That would eliminate the one object seemingly standing in Lord
Voldemort's way to regaining full power. And, he couldn't really be mad at any of them. And if he
made it look like it was just part of a Ministry operation that had to do with the Order of the
Phoenix rather than specifically Harry Potter, than all the better. Lord Voldemort would rant and
rave for a while, but he would go ahead and finish with whatever plans he has for retaking control
and finally, finally Lucius would be second-in-command to the most powerful wizard in the
history of the world."
"So, these others . . .?"
"Power. I am sure he promised them power. Whether with Lord Voldemort in control or not, I
am uncertain. But there are always men and women, might I add, who crave more power than
they have, and care little how they get it. Nightscall, so easy to promise him the Ministry, just
conveniently forget to mention that the Ministry will not be in existence any more, etc., etc.
"I see."
"And he simply brought the Muggle government into the plot as well to further hide his
involvement. Lord Voldemort can never know that it was his idea, for then he would surely be
punished. No. It is to look like a completely unfortunate event. Harry Potter, caught up in a web
set out for the Order, and I'm sure so ever-conveniently-and-accidentally killed by an over-ambitious Auror who would undoubtedly be dispatched from this world quickly in supposed
retaliation for his error."
"That makes sense, Albus. It's so simple that it might have actually worked, had this girl not seen
what she saw."
"Yes. That is my feeling as well."
"Then let's get on with this. It is my day off, after all," said Madam Bones and she settled back in
her chair to wait for Professor Dumbledore to indicate that she was to do something else. He
smiled and went over to his desk.
"Here is the potion. I'm afraid, Miss Robinson, that it is extremely foul-tasting. Unfortunately,
anything I add to it to help the flavor might destroy its power, so you'll just have to gag it down.
Remember, if you feel sick, don't be embarrassed to go into the toilet. None of us will think less of
you. But before you go, I will need to remove the memory. I want you to think, carefully, about
that night. Bring it up to the forefront of your brain. Try to separate it from other thoughts. Think
of it as a separate entity, hard and clear and well-defined. Cassie really tried to do as he asked
although it was difficult with the potion sitting there in front of her and her knowing that she was
going to have to drink the brownish goo bubbling in the goblet. She picked it up, thinking that no
matter what, it couldn't be as bad as the polyjuice stuff she had had to drink for Hermione. She
was wrong. It was worse. Much worse.
She forced herself to swallow mouthful after mouthful of the stuff, finally draining the goblet and
feeling it hit her stomach with the force of a ton of bricks. She concentrated hard now on the
memory, trying to keep it available so that Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have to do much
digging around in her brain. It was hard, though, when she had to also concentrate on not
throwing up all over Madam Bones' immaculate red shoes. She felt the tip of Professor
Dumbledore's wand touch her temple and then it lifted and Cassie blinked in vague surprise. It felt
odd, like a string was being pulled through her skin. It didn't actually hurt, but it certainly was not
something she would volunteer to repeat. She watched, somewhat morbidly fascinated, as he put
the faintly-glowing string into the basin with the others and stirred with his wand tip. He said
some word she didn't catch and the dark shop from that night suddenly appeared above the stone
basin and she saw the wizards, all of whom she could now put names to, walking ahead of her
into the door.
"Very good. We've got it." He said another word and the shop wavered and disappeared. He
nodded at the two witches and then he leaned forward, his long nose almost touching the surface
of the liquid and then, suddenly, he was gone. Well, mentally, at least. Cassie's stomach was still
rolling but she couldn't drag her eyes away from the sight of Professor Dumbledore's body moving
away from the basin and sitting on a chair. Madam Bones leaned forward and the same thing
happened with her and then Miss Bascombe. Their bodies were still sitting in the office, but it was
obvious, as her brother Matthew would say, "the lights weren't even on and nobody was home."
George had a strange look on his face as he looked at the three "soulless bodies" as well. "I guess
they're in there now. That's creepy."
"Yeah," both Arthur and Remus said at once and laughed. Cassie didn't speak or laugh, she just
made a beeline for the toilet. George was right on her heels and she tried to wave him out before
she embarrassed herself in front of him. The thought of him watching her throw up was not a nice
one.
"Here. I brought you these." He shoved something into her mouth and she gagged, but tried to
swallow, unsure of what it was but thinking that if it was going to come up with the rest in a
minute, it wouldn't matter anyway. Amazingly, almost instantly the rolling of her stomach stopped
and she felt a little better. He gave her another one and she chewed it. It tasted good, like candy,
but she thought that anything would be an improvement after the retch-inducing taste of that
potion.
"What is that?"
"A Puking Pastille."
"What?"
"Just the antidote side. I wasn't sure it would work, but thought it couldn't hurt. How are you feeling?"
"Much better, really. Can I have another?" She ate five altogether before he refused to give her
any more.
"Come get a drink of water. You'll feel better to get that taste out of your mouth. It stunk really bad."
"Well, the stench was nothing compared to the taste. How come I'm the one that has to drink all
these gross things?"
"I had to drink Skele-Gro yesterday. That was pretty disgusting."
"True." The soul-less bodies were still sitting in the chairs but Arthur and Remus had moved away
from them to another part of the room. Cassie got a drink and they joined them.
"You all did the same," said Remus, "when you went in earlier. It is very strange looking." He
looked over at the bodies with a rather thoughtful expression. "I wonder if that's what someone
looks like when they've had a Dementor's Kiss?"
"What?" asked Cassie.
"Never mind, I'll tell you later." George whispered.
"Not that good," said Arthur. "At least here the body is waiting for the soul's return. After a Kiss,
it knows it's not coming back, and it almost dies instantly. Almost, but not quite." Cassie wanted
to ask another question but with an almost blinding intensity, she felt someone hit her over the
head with a 2X4. Well, no one in the room had moved but her head exploded all the same, into
such a blinding pain that despite herself she screamed and felt the darkness claim her.
When she woke to George's concerned face, she wanted to reassure him that she was fine, but
truthfully, she couldn't. She couldn't force her mouth to move. Every particle of her brain hurt and
she thought with a certain clarity of thought she was surprised she possessed that Hermione had
been understating things when she'd said a pounding headache. This was absolutely excruciating.
Professor Dumbledore had been prepared and had left several headache-curing potions on his
desk but after gagging down two of them and they hadn't done anything for the pain, Cassie just
cured up in a ball on George's lap and tried not to cry. He held perfectly still and she closed her
eyes against the glaring brightness of the room, and drifted in and out of consciousness for the
next 20 minutes or so. He stirred, finally, and she murmured a vague protest. "They're back, love.
You stay here, I'm going to go talk to them." She cranked her eyes open to see the three
previously soul-less bodies were now moving, talking, and looking concerned. Professor
Dumbledore stood up and waved at George.
"Don't move, Mr. Weasley. The headache remedies didn't do anything for her?" George didn't
speak in deference to her agony but Cassie could feel him shake his head. "I'm sorry. Well, when
you get her back to the Burrow she can sleep. That will help." He looked at the two witches
standing next to him, both of them were rather pale, Cassie thought, as she followed his gaze.
"We saw everything we needed to see. We have identified the other two wizards. But we do have
some rather unfortunate news."
"What's that, Albus?" said Arthur and Cassie wanted to be concerned but she didn't have the
energy.
"There was supposed to be a 9th wizard there. They were waiting for him. He was running late
and had not yet arrived. So, we still have one more man involved, an important one, I believe, and
we have no idea who it is."
