Chapter 17

Erindring

"He was begging for mercy from me by the end. Wanted to save himself so that he could protect that little wretch Potter." She smiled maliciously. "Begged me to spare his life, the coward. Scared of death, even after thirteen years in Azkaban!"

Harry could see Bellatrix Lestrange standing in front of him, facing a shadow on the opposite side of the room. She completely ignored Harry. He could feel his emotions rising and he wanted to lunge at her, but felt his feet were planted firmly to the ground. He tried to yell, but found his jaws locked together. Instead, all he could do was listen and grimace.

"Bella, you know I've heard you recount this story a hundred times over, as well as witnessing it," a cold, bored voice came from the shadow. Harry knew it was Voldemort behind that shadow, but all he cared about was Bellatrix Lestrange. He tried to leap towards her, but found his feet practically plastered to the floor.

"Please, My Lord, please let me witness it one more time…"

"I don't think you deserve it."

"But I do…oh, I do, you have no idea how much I have sacrificed in the last year for the Death Eaters."

"Don't get me wrong, Bella, I have seen what you have given up for us. Your home, your family, your life savings... Although now I know that you need no home nor family nor even money for that matter, as we are your family and protection now."

"And always have been, My Lord." She bowed deeply and as she went down Harry could see her eyes hungry for the vision of the murder of his godfather once more.

"I do beg to differ, Bella, if you would allow me. There were times…yes, times where I sincerely doubted your cause. Times where you weren't even sure if I would ever come for you, to save you. You had doubt in me."

"But that is long gone, My Lord."

"I am not quite so sure…"

At this Bellatrix Lestrange did something Harry would have never thought he would see her do: she fell to her knees on the floor and started pleading at Voldemort's feet, kissing the hem of his robes repeatedly. "Please, Master! I beg of you, let me witness the death of my cousin one more time!"

Voldemort moved a bit out of the shadows and brushed the hem of his robe away from Bella's clambering fingers. He appeared to be contemplating the idea. "All right, Bella. I'll do it for you."

She straightened up at once. "Oh, thank you, Master! Thank you!"

Harry watched as Voldemort waved his wand in a slow circle three times and a bright, yet ice-cold blue flame-like substance began to rotate in front of him, the source coming from the tip of the wand. "Show us the death of Sirius Black." Immediately, the substance began to show a reflection of something, not unlike Dumbledore's Pensieve, although this time it played over again on the substance that had come out of Voldemort's wand (now forming an object similar to a mirror) rather than them literally falling into the memory. A memory that Harry knew all too well. He watched the screen where his godfather raced into the cavernous room with a herd of Aurors at his heels to help Harry. Harry knew that sound was playing, just like a television would in the Muggle world, but he didn't hear anything. He watched in horror as Sirius fought his way through the Death Eaters and all too soon had come face-to-face with Bellatrix Lestrange. Every little flick of Sirius' wand, Harry wanted to call out to warn him not to mess with her, but no sound came through the lockjaw. The scene seemed to play out in slow motion as Sirius and Bellatrix slowly moved closer and closer towards the veil. Then the moment came again: Harry saw a curse hit Sirius full-force on the chest and he barreled backwards through the veil. His godfather was gone once more.

The image began to fade. Harry moved his eyes to Bellatrix again, who was staring longingly at the great mass of fire in front of her and the fading image. "But, Master—"

"You do not want to again witness the torturing of Frank and Alice Longbottom?"

Harry was sickened by her reaction. She perked up immediately and looked longingly into the glassy blue substance with such hate and malice that Harry felt like he wanted to throw up. "Yes, Master. You are so kind…"

The fiery substance began to show another picture, one that Harry knew he would not want to see but would have to watch anyway. It started with a small group of Death Eaters standing in front of a medium sized house located out in the country—practically in the middle of nowhere. "He'll be here soon," Harry heard the all too familiar voice of Lucius Malfoy state. "But the Dark Lord wants us to start it for him." The other Death Eaters sniggered in glee. Harry felt like he was going to be sick.

The small band walked towards the front door, proceeding to unlock it. "Bella, you go in first. We'll stand guard out here." Harry saw one of the hooded figures opening the door and sneaking in. The image followed behind them. Harry wanted to turn away but found that he can't.

"Stay here with Neville, Alice. I'll go see what it is," came a voice from the other room. Evil grins crossed the Lestranges' faces. Harry looked up to see a tall man in front of them—fit, but rather pudgy. He had dark hair just like Neville, with almost identical facial features. A look of fear crossed his face, but that fear was quickly replaced by a look of hatred. "Ah, the Lestranges…should have guessed at this late of an hour."

"You know why we're here, Longbottom," Bella sneered.

"No, I'm afraid I don't," Frank Longbottom said quite politely. "Would you please enlighten me?"

Bellatrix's husband shot forward and grabbed the front of Frank's robes. "No! You know why we're here," Bella hissed in her husband's ear as she quickly pulled her husband away. "Now tell us where the Potters are!"

"I have no idea."

"Tell the truth, Longbottom, if you know what's best for you and your family!"

"I'm telling the truth. Do you think they would hide just anywhere and tell just anyone? Besides, why would you want to know?"

"The Dark Lord has important business with Lily and James Potter. Actually, he has important business with their son, Harry. Now tell us where they're hiding!"

For one fleeting moment Harry saw fear cross Frank's eyes before he again replied calmly. "I do not know where the Potters are. Even if I did, there is no way that I would tell you."

Bellatrix screamed and flung herself at Frank, wand at the ready. "Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!" she screamed as Frank huddled on the floor, shrieking in pain.

"Frank, dear, what's the ma—?" Alice Longbottom began to ask, coming in from the other room. She gasped at the scene in front of her, her husband twitching on the floor and Bellatrix Lestrange towering over him, wand outstretched. Before Neville's mother could reach her wand, Bella's husband was on her, his own deep, booming voice yelling, "Crucio!" in unison with his wife's. She fell onto the floor as well, her face stunned and shrieking horribly as her small body shuddered with pain…

The image faded and Harry found himself looking at Voldemort and Bella, the substance disappearing into midair. "Erindring," Voldemort said quietly, "one of the most powerful methods in the world to relive memories."

"Thank you, Master," Bella mumbled, still on her knees and again kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes. "Thank you…"

"I will not allow such pleasures next time, Bella," Voldemort replied softly. "I expect results from you whenever I assign a task for you to complete."

"I promise I'll do better next time, My Lord."

"For your sake you had better…you know the punishment for the failure of your task."

"Yes, My Lord. You have my word that it will be done."

Harry awoke with a start in the all-too-familiar cold sweat that he has whenever having a nightmare about Voldemort. He got up and checked his watch to find that it was 2:30 in the morning. Harry jumped out of bed and walked over to the basin of water on the windowsill to splash his face, looking across the snow from his window at the Burrow (he slept in Fred and George's room, as they had moved out after starting Weasley's Wizard Wheezes). He would have loved to tell himself that it was all a dream and that he could go back to sleep, but life was never that simple for Harry Potter. In the back of his mind he knew that it had actually happened. It was too vivid just to be a dream. His scar had long lost the sharp pain that shot through it whenever Voldemort was near or rather emotional at the time. Still, it throbbed slightly and Harry couldn't just ignore it.

Harry put on his bathrobe and slippers and walked downstairs. He sat at the kitchen table just thinking.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Harry looked up to see Ginny standing at the foot of the stairs. "Sorry if I woke you," Harry muttered, looking back down at the table.

"No, it wasn't you, I couldn't sleep either. When I heard you go down the stairs I thought I'd join you. Want some cocoa?" Before Harry could say anything, Ginny had water on the stove. "I wish I could do magic outside of school," she muttered. "It would make life a heck of a lot easier…"

Harry chuckled slightly. "Now you know how Muggles have to live."

Ginny shook her head. "The poor souls…" Harry laughed halfheartedly when he realized the striking similarities between Ginny and her mother. He found it quite comforting. "Now tell me what's on your mind, Harry. I can tell something big is bothering you." Ginny mixed up some hot cocoa into two rather large mugs and brought them over to the table, sitting down next to Harry.

"What do you think would be bothering me?" Harry asked in an angrier tone than he had anticipated.

"Voldemort," Ginny replied calmly, taking a sip out of her mug.

"Bingo. What else is Harry Potter allowed to think about, especially nowadays?"

Ginny put a comforting hand on his arm. "Listen, Harry, I've known you ever since you and Ron became friends first year." Harry smirked. "Shut up. You know what I mean. Anyway, I've gotten to know you fairly well and have discovered only one thing about you: you're just like your parents."

At this Harry looked down into his mug of cocoa.

Ginny continued, not waiting for a response. "And knowing that you are just like them gives me confidence that you will defeat Voldemort in the end."

"How can you be so sure? There's no way I could be as brave as Dad."

"Harry, you're the only one who has the ability kill the Dark Lord. You heard the prophecy. Not even wizards as powerful as Dumbledore can defeat him once and for all. And Harry, I know you can do it because…well, you're you." She smiled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, half grinning and half utterly confused.

"It means that you have survived Voldemort's wrath and have slipped out of his grasp more than once and if that isn't an indication that you'll be successful in finishing him off, I honestly don't know what is."

The two sat in a peaceful silence for fifteen more minutes before Ginny got up and put her mug in the sink, yawning. "Well, that sure helped me; I hope it did the same for you, Harry." With that she kissed him lightly on the cheek in an affectionate sisterly sort of manner. Harry again was reminded of Mrs. Weasley. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Ginny." And with that she climbed the stairs and left Harry with his own thoughts. Never before had he wanted to own a Pensieve so badly.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: OK, OK, I've been crazy busy with absolutely no time to write lately…as in quite a long time lately. In fact, I'm not even sure when the last update was…that could be a sign, eh? Anywho, my random genius came up with the idea of Erindring as I was having fun translating English words to random foreign languages on the Internet…and I believe it means "recollection" or something of the sort in an unknown tongue (in other words, I forgot what language--shows how long ago I started this chapter). Oh, and also, does anyone know the name of Bella's husband? I got sick of calling him "Bella's husband" all the time and can't remember if he actually had a first name in the books or not. So if anyone can help me out there, it would be greatly appreciated.