A/N: I know I haven't updated this story in forever. And I do apologize. I have been so busy with other things and other stories that simply must be written down. But here is the 9th installment of Love and Confusion. Do enjoy and review me. Chastise me, because of the delay, if you wish, but please no Flames. You can express your distaste in a more mature way. (Tip: you may want to go back and reread chapter 8)

Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I am not her. However, Helen and Leigh are my own characters. The entire storyline is also mine. I thanks Mrs. Rowling for her incredible mind to invent such places and things for me to write about. The speech given to James by Dumbledore is straight from The Goblet of Fire, Chapter 30.

Chapter 9

Love and Confusion

James was quietly walking down the corridors of Hogwarts, in semi-darkness; he was headed to Dumbledore's office, leaving Lily et cetera in the common room to finish their homework and studying.

He laughed to himself as he imagined the scenes unfolding between them all as he moseyed down the hall. Lily would be sitting on the couch surrounded by books and parchment, labouring diligently on her Potions homework. Sirius would be frolicking gaily around the room, due to the fact that he would have had one or two too many butterbeers, as well as a fire whisky. Helen stuck out her foot to trip him. He would stumble and look for who had pushed him. Lily Remus and Leigh would become increasingly aggravated with Sirius and his intoxicated antics. Remus would be making up his Divination homework again, and Leigh would have abandoned all attempts at homework and would be thoroughly immersed in a book.

James was startled when he found himself face to face with a particularly grotesque gargoyle.

"Toilet Water," James told it, and immediately it sprang to life and jumped aside revealing the infamous spiral staircase that would lead him to his first Occlumency lesson.

He made it to the office door and could hear mumblings of talking; this made him feel slightly intrusive. He therefore knocked on the door, Dumbledore's voice told him to enter. However, the other voices were absent, as though they had never even existed. He knew it was the portraits.

James opened the door to the snores of past headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts, and to the hushed purrings and whirrings of Dumbledore's eccentric wizarding instruments. None of the sights or sounds were new to James for he had been there many times before, but rarely because he was wanted.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore greeted him jovially.

"Hi, Professor," James returned, wondering what was in store for him.

"Have a seat," he offered to James. "Lemon drop?"

James took the seat and accepted the lemon drop, very much so surprising Dumbledore.

They sat opposite each other at the headmaster's desk. James noticed a peculiar instrument of Dumbledore's that was usually on a shelf behind glass, was resting on the desk, right in front of him. He straightened in his arm chair to peer inside of the basin. It was filled with a bold silver substance with delicate light silver swirls churning in it. It was such a mystical illusion it was almost nonexistent.

"Charming isn't it?" Dumbledore asked smirking.

James smiled and knew that Dumbledore had picked up on his curiosity.

"Yes sir."

The aged headmaster nodded in acknowledgement and wandered his office, almost begging James with his quiet pacing, to inquire about it.

James obliged, "What is it sir?"

"Ah, I'm glad you asked. This is a quite miraculous instrument. Let me tell you about it. You see," he smiled more mischievously. "I've performed and rehearsed this explanation a thousand time to these headmasters and headmistresses," indicating their portraits. "One would assume they are quite tired of hearing it, and I'm quite delighted to have a new audience."

James smiled in understanding.

"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."

"Uhmm...," James replied, never having remembered having that problem.

Dumbledore interrupted politely continuing, "It is during these times that I use the Pensieve." He indicated the stone basin with its unusual markings around the edges. "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…all that silvery stuff is your thoughts?" James asked incredulously.

"Certainly, let me show you."

Dumbledore took out his wand from the inside of his robes and placed the tip onto his silvery hair, near his temple. He took the wand away, and there was a thin and strange strand of the same substance that filled the basin, connecting the wand to his head. He added the thought to the basin, and James saw his own face reflected back at him. Dumbledore swirled it with his wand, it became a horrid face, mangled and flat, and with slits for eyes.

James started, as he realized what, or rather who it was.

It was Voldemort.

Dumbledore looked slightly taken aback. "Well now, that was interesting. Now, tell me what's been happening."

James was still gazing into the Pensieve.

"Mr. Potter? James? Yes, nice to have you back in my office."

"Sorry sir."

"It's perfectly fine. Now, tell me everything."

A/N: Yes, it's a cliffie because for now I'm otherwise too lazy to type the rest. R&R