A/N: Sorry about such a large update gap...Go ahead...you can all yell at me. I promise to never do that again...I hope...Anyways; this is just another disclaimer making sure we all remember that I haven't any right to any of this stuff. Hope I haven't lost all of my readers...but for those of you that hung in there, read on.

Sirius slowly opened his eyes. He had such a headache...he couldn't remember where he was...wasn't he dead? After his eyes cleared he saw what was happening around him and what had been the cause of his awakening. It was just the traitor Wormtail coming to him. How he wished to squeeze that man to death; to watch his eyes stare lifelessly on the floor. Then Sirius noticed that Wormtail was coming toward him...this bothered Sirius...what more could they want?

When close to the shadowy figure, Wormtail said in a whisper, "Sirius, I'm here to help you. I want to apologize for what I've done. I know that it's pretty much too late to change anything...but I can stop something from happening. Please listen to me, Sirius."

"And why the hell should I listen to you?" spat Sirius. "You're just playing some game with me! Getting me to trust you and tell you where the Order is!"

"No Sirius...I would never..."

"Then why this sudden change of heart? Why do suddenly cower from Voldemort? Is he getting weaker? Are you just out to protect your sorry head?"

"Well, in a way, yes, but I also would like to help you...I owe you..."

"You owe everyone in Great Britain with your cowardice! Ok, I guess you're my only hope of helping the others...what did you have in mind?"

After a moment, Wormtail spoke, "Well, I cannot revive you, for that is impossible even for most skilled wizards. But I can make Voldemort's headway slower than it would be. I will carefully guide him from his goals and the Order. For you, I can assure that you will not be left to obliterate into nothingness. You are not deserving of such a fate. I feel if I do this then I will at least redeem myself to a rank of deserving a status such as yours in the afterlife. I must sound like a complete idiot to you. But if you will not believe me then I will understand...all I want you to know is that I am trying my hardest to help win this war."

Sirius looked directly at Peter when he spoke these words. He knew how good the man could lie; he had seen him do it on so many occasions. But since he knew how he lied, he was able to tell when the truth was being told. He was pretty sure that he was getting the straight truth just then. He knew that the man was his only hope of connecting some of his efforts to the outside. So, what could Sirius do? He believed Peter.

"Well, Wormtail, I can only say that I hope you're not lying top me or you will personally suffer in the afterlife. But as of now I think that I believe you...I think that I can trust you."

"Good. I assure you that I will be trying out there to accomplish something. I must go now...I will be back soon."

"Thank you Peter, old friend. And good luck to you."

With that Wormtail was gone.

Harry slowly opened his eyes much like his shadowy Godfather had just done moments before. If he had known that the reason for his awakening was because of what was about to take place, he would've seriously considered going back to sleep.

He realized that it was still well into the night time and that morning was still a ways away. So Harry wondered what had woken him...there was no noise that he could hear physically, but there was a strange feeling passing through his body. It felt like death. Harry was a little wary of this feeling. He attempted sleep again to no avail, so decided to go to the common room and read himself to sleep. What did he care if some first or second year came nervously poking him in the morning asking why he was sleeping on the couch? He was a rough and tough sixth year.

After reading for an hour, Harry knew that something was seriously going on. He could not ward off the feeling that he needed to do some snooping...So, of course, he did. Harry was out in the corridor with his cloak over him in roughly two minutes. He figured that he was getting a little bit big for the cloak considering that he had to crouch a good four inches so that it covered his feet. He found all of the corridors silent. He almost wanted to find something unusual. It had been a few months from the first DA meeting and nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. This worried Harry. He knew that when nothing was happening then there was a person scheming about the something that was going to happen. Harry needed to find out what was going on. All rumors about Dumbledore, the Half-Blood Prince, and a certain killer had died down, but Harry was sure that something was still going on.

Harry had not been paying to where his feet were leading him. He looked up to see that he was at the end of the corridor that lead to the staircase to Dumbledore's office. With no where else to go, Harry started toward the office in hopes that Dumbledore was up and maybe he could convey some of his worries to the old wizard. But when Harry arrived at the door leading to the staircase he was very puzzled. This was because the door was very much ajar and the staircase was very much revolving and waiting to be climbed. So Harry did as the stairs silently asked and went up. At the top of the stairs was, as Harry had half-guessed, an open door to Dumbledore's office with no Dumbledore within.

Of course Harry went in, what else could he do? He was such and innocent, curious boy who only wanted to know what was happening. But in the past years the innocence had quickly faded and the curiosity was merely there for concern of his own safety. Inside the office Harry found a cluttered desk with papers askew; many bearing the Ministry of Magic emblem. Harry knew that he best not look at the papers. But, judging from the fact that they weren't from Kwikspell, he was pretty sure they weren't very interesting. But something did catch his naughty eyes...something that had caught his eyes time and time again.

Harry walked slowly to the open cabinet from which the faint glow was emanating. He carefully lifted the pensieve from its place and brought it to Dumbledore's desk. After pushing aside the clutter of papers Harry laid down the massive bowl and then sat in a chair to admire it. He thought for a while about doing what he so wanted to do, but remembered how earlier incidents like this one had ended. Eventually the lure of what he might find within was too great for his lingering curiosity to handle. He couldn't contain himself any longer and let himself plunge into the silvery bowl of thoughts.

Usually when Harry had been traveling through the pensieve he was placed randomly into a memory. But he reckoned that he had the rudimentary workings of the device by now and decided to try something new. During his stomach turning journey through the flying memories he thought of one thing: The Half Blood Prince.

Harry crashed into a solid ground. Lucky for him it didn't hurt in the least for he was just a visitor in someone else's memory. He was as faint and helpless as his godfather's image in Voldemort's lair. He looked around himself to try to get a sense of his surroundings. Unfortunately there was no indication of where he was and he bore no memories of the place. All of a sudden there was a gargantuan crash that shook the fuzzy image of the world that Harry was seeing. He quickly turned around to see the cause of such a commotion and froze. There was a sign lying at his feet with only two words upon it. They were "Godric's Hollow".

Before Harry's mind could process this bizarre event he was enchanted by what was taking place before him. Three men were locked in a wizard's duel that was by o means fair or gentleman-like. One of the three was rather younger than the first two and couldn't have been more than twenty. He had very pale skin and curious eyes that caught Harry's attention. He had definitely seen those eyes before...except they were a different color. One of the older men was in a grayish cloak that had a slightly worn look about it. The man had extremely dark hair and a look upon his face as though he was concentrating very hard. The third and final man had striking auburn hair and a tremendous beard. In his eyes was a might that was rarely seen within a single person. This, of course, was Albus Dumbledore.

Then the action seemed to start up again. Harry had almost been frozen in time as he had been examining the men. Now spells and curses were flying at Dumbledore from both sides and he shooting back just as many as the other two were able to put out. The young man was in a frenzy to keep up and was visibly tiring before Harry's eyes. It was then that he recognized the young man for who he was; he was none other than Tom Riddle himself.

All of this was just starting to penetrate Harry's brain and he was having trouble working it all out. Why are Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, and some other guy whom I can only assume to be Grindewald, fighting in my parent's town in the past? Harry could just as easily answer this as he could milk a cockroach. Then something most interesting happened.

Tom was lying on the floor with a defeated look about his figure. Dumbledore had turned to him after putting out Grindewald for a moment and was about to finish off the boy and stop a world of terror in fifty years, but that was when Grindewald interfered and cast a spell on Riddle that made him disappear instantaneously. Harry heard the wizard mutter to the disappearing figure of Tom,

"You are my future."

Then Dumbledore turned on the gray one and stuck him with a most powerful curse. The wizard was overwhelmed by the power and appeared to die...except, Harry couldn't tell because the memory was getting very fuzzy and weird. There was sudden laughter emanating from somewhere far off and the events that had just taken place seemed to be rewinding to when Riddle was disappearing. Then everything began to slow down and the same things happened again...except that they didn't. Just as Riddle disappeared Grindewald rose to his feet and cast a spell upon himself. A greenish smoke came from his body and floated up above Dumbledore, who did not appear to notice the smoke above him; he was still getting ready to cast a spell upon Grindewald's body. Then the smoke sprang down into the back of Dumbledore's head as he was destroying the now empty body of Grindewald. The body crumpled and Dumbledore looked none the different.

But Harry had a pretty good idea of what was happening. He had just seen the real events of Grindewald's apparent defeat that took place in 1945. From what Harry could see and comprehend, Grindewald was not defeated in the least. In fact, Harry thought with a shudder, he could very well still be taking refuge in the back of Dumbledore's head. It was then that the hand went down upon Harry's shoulder.

"Time to go, Harry."

Harry looked up to see the present version of Dumbledore looking down upon him. From the look on the man's face he was a disconcerted, but not with Harry. He looked preoccupied, nervous. But all at the same time he was kindly and gentle, as Harry knew him best.

"S-sorry, professor," mumbled Harry to his feet, hoping that Dumbledore had not seen which memory it was that Harry had just witnessed.

Then the two of them where whisked back into Dumbledore's office as quick as they'd gone. Dumbledore motioned for Harry to sit down and relax. Harry knew that he was about to be treated to a nice, long talk.

"So, what's a boy like you doing out so late? In my office, no less," asked Dumbledore in a tone that held not the least bit of disdain.

"Well, you see professor; I kinda had this funny feeling so I was taking a walk through the castle to ease my mind. But then I the doors open to your office and decided I'd come talk to you. But when I got here you were gone and I saw the pensieve and got a little nosy..."

"Nosy, yes. I see. Apparently you have just witnessed another one of my own memories. This time's my defeat of Grindewald. I dare say that you found it a bit puzzling. You see, as do I, Harry. If Grindewald is the Half Blood Prince, and he is dead for that matter, how is he to aid you in this so-called fight? It has been on my mind for weeks."

This was not what Harry found puzzling at all. He was wondering why Dumbledore made no reference to the very strange ending of the memory...How Grindewald had gotten into his head. But then Harry thought, maybe he can't see that part because Grindewald doesn't want him to. This was an utterly chilling thought. So now Harry stared the wizard in the eyes and there he saw a new quality; a bitterness. Was this Grindewlad? Harry did not know, but he wanted to get away from Dumbledore soon.

"Yes sir, very puzzling. I think I should return to class. That is, if I am excused."

"Why yes, Harry, of course," said Dumbledore in a distracted tone. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Oh, nothing. Thanks for your time...and sorry again."

"No, Harry, don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault. Good night!"

"Good night, professor."

With that Harry practically ran to the common room in order to get as far away as possible from the spirit of Grindewald.