Alright guys, I'm really sorry that the latest chapter is so late, but what can you do. Homework's catching up to me.

Mmelbear – Thanks a lot!

High Serpent King – Thanks, also I just realized I haven't read your story in a while so I'll have to catch up on that

sclub8 and Ron/ Hermoine fan – Thanks!

Starsmiles – Sorry to let you down about it being out soon, but oh well. As to Dumbledore, it's a fair point (in fact a very good point) but keep in mind he has no leads and needs to act fast. Your point's still very valid, though, although I think the dialogue made things seem a little different then they are. Dumbledore's certainly going to be keeping him on a very tight leash and he's not trusted at all at the moment.

Chapter 25 – The Pensieve

Ginny was sobbing hysterically in the Hospital Wing, yelling incomprehensibly about Ron. Hermione herself was much too broken-down to help her, collapsed wearily against the floor with her head in her arms, crying softly. Madame Pomfrey and McGonagall were trying desperately to help Ginny but to no avail.

"Ron – no – he can't be –"

"Miss Weasley, please..." McGonagall pleaded while holding Ginny down.

"No – I don't believe – Ron – no –"

Ginny abruptly stopped, turning onto her stomach and crying in her pillow. McGonagall looked upon her with a sorrowful eye, before turning her gaze to Hermione.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione felt like she had no strength of will left. She couldn't bring herself to raise her head to face McGonagall. It seemed that she was totally useless without Ron.

"Miss Granger please...you need some rest...lie down on this bed."

Hermione complied docilely and drank the potion that was thrust into her hand absentmindedly, falling into a deep dreamless sleep.

Harry stared at the magically suspended screen with loathing and contempt, his whole body resonating with hatred for Malfoy. Harry was in Dumbledore's office, seated comfortably in a plush chair. Dumbledore himself was out in the school, directing all the happenings. Malfoy, after intense pacing through the locked room – virtually a prison cell in reality – had sat on the bed, although he hadn't slept. He had simply sat there the whole time, absolutely still, a depressed expression evident on a face lined with weariness. Malfoy's eyes were suddenly drawn to a red ring that fit comfortably onto his finger. Eyes flashing with utter hatred, Malfoy threw the ring off and hurled it to the wall powerfully, breaking it into two pieces cleanly. Malfoy screamed intensely at it, but Harry couldn't hear him – the cameras were solely for visuals at the moment. Malfoy screamed at the ring for five minutes, until he suddenly collapsed wearily on the bed.

Harry drew his eyes away from the camera, and his gaze shifted to Dumbledore's Pensieve. He remembered a conversation he had once with Dumbledore in fourth year about it, recalling that at the time he had no idea what Dumbledore was talking about when he said that he had too much on his mind. Harry felt he knew exactly what Dumbledore meant now, though, and abruptly felt an urge to make use of the Pensieve. He glanced furtively around, as if he was about to commit a crime, but then suddenly realized that what he was doing was ridiculous – he wasn't doing anything wrong, and he was sure Dumbledore wouldn't have a problem with it. Wearily, Harry rose from the chair and left the camera's screen behind it, facing the Pensieve.

Harry drew his wand and raised it up to his temple. He intensely concentrated on a thought, then pulled the wand away. It was an odd sensation, like something was being pulled away from himself. Suddenly the feeling left, and Harry saw that the strand had broken off. Nervously, Harry deposited his thought in the formerly empty Pensieve and swirled the thought around. An image of Ron shimmered up to the surface. Ron's face was younger and looked to be around eleven or twelve. It was first year. They were playing chess.

"That's chess! You've got to make sacrifices..."

Harry shook his head abruptly as if that would clear the memory, but this obviously didn't have any effect on the Pensieve. The memory went on, and suddenly skipped to an image of Ron being hit by the queen. He went crashing down onto the floor. Harry winced again and tears stung his eyes. He ended the thought with a swirl of his wand. It wasn't just the memory that caused him the cry – it was how much Ron had visibly aged during the time from that memory to before he died. This wasn't to say he shouldn't have aged in a space of about five years, but upon reflection Harry remembered how worried and weary Ron had always looked lately. The boyish youthfulness that Ron used to always seem to embody had vanished after the Department of Mysteries.

Harry took himself off of this line of thought, and drew the wand up again to his temple. Despite the drawbacks of the Pensieve making him relive painful memories, it had its advantages too – Harry was becoming calmer and his mind felt clearer. Harry felt the pulling sensation again before he deposited the thought back in. He swirled the two thoughts around and the second thought rose to the surface of the Pensieve.

"If you want to kill him, you'll have to kill us too!"

"No, there will only be one death tonight..."

That's just great, Harry thought, as the tears that had before stung his eyes fell down. A memory of both Ron and Sirius. Harry drew another thought out and swirled it around. An image of Ron on the bucking broom surfaced. Harry and his friends were circling nervously under him, Harry with a particularly pained expression. Ron's broom suddenly gave a vicious buck as Ron tried desperately to gain control and a handhold. Harry, looking into the memory, suddenly saw somebody muttering something in the background. His eyes narrowed as the person came into focus. A flash of blond hair...

Malfoy.