The office door opened and Moody said, "Hello, Potter. Come in, then."
Hailey walked inside the office and remembered how she once been inside Dumbledore's office once. The office was a beautiful, circular room that was lined with portraits of previous Hogwarts' headmasters and headmistresses, all of which, were asleep.
Cornelius Fudge was standing beside Dumbledore's desk. He was wearing his usual pinstriped cloak and he was holding his lime-green bowler hat. "Hailey!" called Fudge, showing happy. He moved forward, "How are you?"
"Fine," Hailey lied.
Fudge said, "we were just talking about the night when Mr Crouch turned up on the grounds. It was you who found him, was it not?"
"Yes," replied Hailey and figured that it would be pointless to act as if she didn't listen in on their conversation when the door was shut, said, "I didn't see Madame Maxime anywhere, though. She'd have a job hiding, wouldn't she?"
Behind Fudge's back, Hailey saw Dumbledore smile at her. Fudge looked embarrassed, "Yes, well, we're about to go for a short walk on the grounds, Hailey, if you'll excuse us…perhaps if you just go back to your class—"
"I wanted to talk to you, Professor," Hailey interrupted while looking at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore gave her a swift, searching look and said, "Wait here for me, Hailey. Our examination of the grounds will not take long."
The adults walked past Hailey in silence and closed the door. After a minute or so, Hailey heard the clunks of Moody's wooden leg grow fainter as they left the corridor.
Hailey looked around the office again and spotted Dumbledore's pet phoenix, Fawks. Fawkes, the size of a swan with magnificent scarlet-and-gold plummage, was standing on the golden perch beside the door.
"Hello, Fawkes," Hailey greeted.
Fawkes swished his long tail and blinked at Hailey in a kind manner, as if he was greeting her back.
Hailey sat down in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk and watched the portraits of the previous headmasters and headmistresses sleeping. She was thinking about what she had overheard and kept running her fingers over her scar, which had stopped hurting.
She oddly felt much calmer now, somehow, now that she was in Dumbledore's office, knowing that she would be telling Dumbledore about the dream, shortly. The Sorting Hat was standing on a shelf, looking ragged patched. Next to the hat was a glass case that held a magnificent silver sword that had large rubies set into the hilt. It was the sword that Hailey had pulled out of the Sorting Hat during her second year. The sword had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, founder of Gryffindor House. The sword had come to Hailey's aid when she thought that all hope was lost. Apparently the sword thought that she had a true Gryffindor's heart, despite her being in Ravenclaw.
She noticed that a patch of silvery light was dancing and moving on the glass case. She looked for the source of light and saw a sliver of silver-white shining brightly from within a black cabinet behind her. The door hadn't been closed properly and she hesitated. She looked at Fawkes and got up. She walked across the office and pulled opened the cabinet door.
A shallow stone basin was in there, with runes and symbols carved around the edge. She didn't recognize the runes and symbols, and figured that Michael might be able to figure out what they meant if she wrote down the runes for him. The silvery light was coming from the inside of the basin that didn't look either liquid or gas. It was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving around ceaselessly. The surface became ruffled like water when it was windy. The substance separated and swirled smoothly.
It dawned on Hailey that this was a Pensieve, an object that can store memories to be watched later. The memories are unbiased, so it played out exactly has it happened. The substance inside of it must be Dumbledore's memories. She wondered what type of memories Dumbledore placed in the Pensieve.
The weird urge to touch it crossed her mind. She wanted to know what the memories felt like, but she knew that it would be considered rude to even touch Dumbledore's memories like that. Also, what would she see if she was sucked in one? She might come across a memory that might be him being…intimate…with his lover or something. She then thought, but then again, why would he leave something like that in the Pensieve?
She supposed poking and prodding at the memories wouldn't be too bad, that is if she didn't accidentally access one.
She looked around and took her wand out of her robes pocket. She prodded at the contents and the memories started to rapidly swirl.
The memories suddenly became transparent like glass. She bent down to examine the memory and saw an enormous room that was below the surface of the memory. It seemed as if there was a window in the ceiling and she was looking down at the room.
The room was dimly lit, and seemed like it was underground because there weren't any window and the only light was torches in brackets, like the ones that illuminated the walls of Hogwarts. She lowered her face to the basin to examine the memory more clearly. There were witches and wizards sitting on benches, which rose in levels. In the center of the room was a lone chair, which made Hailey shiver. There were chains encircling the arms of the chair, as if occupants of the chair were tied to it.
Hailey wondered where this place even was, because it sure as hell wasn't at Hogwarts. The crowd was made up of adults anyway and not that many teachers even worked at Hogwarts
It looked like they were waiting for something and she could see the tops of their hats and all of them looked like they were looking in one direction. None of them were taking and the room looked square, so she couldn't see the corners. She leaned closer and tilted her head a little to see if she can see…unfortunately her hair fell from behind her shoulders and right into the basin. The office lurched and she was thrown forward. She fell headfirst into the memory…
She fell through icy-coldness and darkness…it was like what she imagined being sucked into a dark whirlpool felt like.
She was now sitting on a bench at the end of the room inside the basin. It was a bench raised high above the others. She looked up at the high ceiling, but it was dark and solid stone.
She was in Dumbledore's memory and she started to breath fast and heavily. She looked right next to her to see Dumbledore himself, but that couldn't be right. He left her in his office back at Hogwarts. Dumbledore, like the other wizards, was staring at the far corner where a door was.
Hailey looked Dumbledore and then at the watchful crowd. She had once been in a memory before, in her second year. She once had been sucked into a page in an enchanted diary, that had once belonged to Tom Riddle, when he was framing Hagrid for setting fear a 'monster' which had turned out to be Aragog, an Acromantula, who now resided in the Forbidden Forest and wanted to feast on her and her friends.
She looked at Dumbledore, again. He looked just like the present day Dumbledore, so when did this memory take place? Where was this room at? What were all these wizards waiting for, anyway? She looked around the again. It did seem underground—most likely a dungeon. It seemed bleak and forbidding inside, because there weren't any pictures and decorations. The benches rose in levels all around the room, positioned in a way to have a clear view of the chair with the chains on its arms.
There were footsteps and the door in the corner opened. One man and two dementors entered.
The dementors were tall, hooded creatures with concealed faces glided slowly toward the chair in the center of the room. There were grasping one of the man's arms with dead rotten-looking hands. The man looked like he was about to faint and Hailey didn't blame him. The dementors couldn't harm her inside a memory, but she knew of their power to well. The crowd seemed to recoil slightly as the dementors placed the man in the chained chair and glided back out of the room.
Hailey looked at the man in the chair and saw that it was Karkaroff.
Karkaroff looked much younger, because his hair and goatee were black. He wasn't dressed in sleek furs, but in thin and ragged looking robes. He was shaking, and as Hailey watched, the chains on the arms of the chair glowed gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff's arms, binding him.
"Igor Karkaroff," said a voice from Hailey's left. Hailey looked around and saw Mr Crouch standing up in the middle of bench beside her. Crouch's hair was dark, his face less lined. He actually looked fit and alert. "You have been brought from Azkaban to present evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us."
Karkaroff straightened up as best as he could, being tightly bound to the chair. "I have, sit." He sounded scared, yet he had that familiar unctuous tone. "I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I—I know that Ministry is trying to—to round up the last of the Dark Lord's supporters. I am eager to assist in any way I can…"
A murmur erupted around the benches. Hailey noticed that some of the wizards and witches were looking at Karkaroff with interest and others didn't look like they would trust him.
"Filth," said a familiar, growling voice, from Dumbledore's other side.
Hailey leaned forward so she can see past Dumbledore. It was Mad-Eye Moody, even though he looked a little unfamiliar. He had two normal eyes and they were narrowed as he looked down at Karkaroff, in dislike. He, however, was missing a chunk out of his nose.
"Crouch is going to let him out," Moody said quietly to Dumbledore. "He's done a deal with him. Took me six months to track him down, and Crouch is going to let him go if he's got enough new names. Let's hear his information, I say, and throw him straight back to the dementors."
Dumbledore made a small noise of disagreement through his nose.
Moody gave a sardonic smile, "Ah, I was forgetting…you don't like the dementors, do you, Albus?"
"No," replied Dumbledore, calmly. "I'm afraid I don't. I have long felt the Ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures."
In a soft voice, Moody said, "But for filth like this…"
"You say you have names for us, Karkaroff," said Mr Crouch. "Let us hear them, please."
"You must understand," said Karkaroff hurriedly, "that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named operated always in the greatest secrecy…He preferred that we—I mean to say, his supporters—and I regret now, very deeply, that I ever counted myself among them—"
"Get on with it," sneered Moody.
"—we never knew that names of every one of our fellows—" Karkaroff started, "He alone knew exactly who we all were—"
"Which was a wise move, wasn't it, as it prevented someone like you, Karkaroff, from turning all of them in," muttered Moody.
"Yet you say you have some names for us?" prompted Mr Crouch.
"I—I do," replied Karkaroff, in a breathless tone, "And these were important supporters, mark you. People I saw with my own eyes doing his bidding. I give this information as a sign that I fully and totally renounce him, and am filled with a remorse so deep I can barely—"
"These names are?" asked Mr Crouch sharply.
Karkaroff took a deep breath. "There was Antonin Dolohov. I—I saw him torture countless Muggles and—and non-supporters of the Dark Lord."
"And helped him do it," muttered Moody.
"We have already apprehended Dolohov, said Crouch, "He was caught shortly after yourself."
"Indeed?" asked Karkaroff, his eyes widening. "I—I am delighted to hear it!"
He didn't look delighted, as it seemed like the news was a blow to him. The name was worthless.
"Any others?" demanded Crouch in a cold tone.
"Why, yes...there was Rosier. Evan Rosier," said Karkaroff in a rush.
"Rosier is dead," said Crouch. "He was caught shortly after you were, too. He preferred to fight rather than come quietly and was killed in the struggle."
"Took a bit of me with him, though," whispered Moody to Hailey's right. Hailey turned too look at him and saw Moody indicating to the large chunk out of his nose to Dumbledore.
"No—no more than Rosier deserved!" exclaimed Karkaroff, sounding panicked. Hailey could see that he was beginning to worry that none of his information was useful to the Ministry.
"Any more?" asked Crouch, sounding slightly impatient.
"Yes!" exclaimed Karkaroff. "There was Travers—he helped murder the McKinnons! Mulciber—he specialized in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people to do horrific things! Rookwood, who was a spy, and passed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named useful information from inside the Ministry itself!"
The crowd starting murmuring together.
"Rookwood?" asked Mr Crouch, nodding to a witch that was sitting in front of him. She began writing on her piece of parchment. "Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?"
"The veryt same," said Karkaroff eagerily. "I believe he used a network of well-placed wizards, both inside the Ministry and out, to collect information—"
"But Travers and Mulciber we have," said Mr Crouch. "Very well, Karkaroff, if that is all, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide—"
"Not yet!" cried Karkaroff, looking desperate now. "Wait, I have more!" Hailey could see him sweating in the torchlight. "Snape! Severus Snape! Blair Lovelace!"
Hailey briefly wondered if Malachi had an aunt by the name of Blair. It couldn't have been his mother, but she didn't know Malachi's mother's name.
"Snape has been cleared by this council," replied Crouch disdainfully. "He has been vouched for by Albus Dumbledore."
"No!" shouted Karkaroff, straining against the chain bindings. "I assure you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!"
Dumbledore got to his feet and calmly stated, "I have given evidence already on this matter. Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am."
Hailey looked at Moody-Eye Mody. He was looking deeply skeptical behind Dumbledore's back.
"Very well, Karkaroff," Crouch said coldly. "We shall look into Bliar Lovelace and I shall review your case. You will return to Azkaban in the meantime…"
Mr Crouch's voice faded and Hailey looked around. The dungeon was dissolving as though it was made of smoke. Everything was fading, and Hailey looked down to see her body—everything else was swirling darkness. The memory must've been over.
The dungeon returned and Hailey was now sitting in a different seat, in the highest bench. She was now sitting to the left side of Mr Crouch.
The atmosphere seemed more relaxed, even cheerful. The witches and wizards all around the walls were talking to one another, almost as if they were at a sporting event than a trial. Hailey spotted a witch halfway up the rows of benches opposite of Hailey. The witch had short blonde hair and was wearing magenta robes. She was sucking the end of an acid-green quill. She was a younger Rita Skeeter. Hailey looked around and saw that Dumbledore was sitting beside her again, wearing different robes. Mr Crouch looked tired and somehow fiercer, gaunter. Hailey knew that she was in a different memory, on a different day…a new trial.
The door in the corner opened and Ludo Bagman walked into the room.
It was a Ludo Bagman who was clearly at the height of his Quidditch-playing fitness. His nose wasn't broken; he was tall, lean, and muscular. He was somewhat handsome. He looked nervous as he saw down in the chained chair. It didn't bind him like it did to Karkaroff. Bagman glanced around at the watching crowd, waved at a couple of them, and managed a small smile.
Mr Crouch, "Ludo Bagman, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters. We have heard evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce judgment?"
Hailey was stunned at that. Ludo Bagman, a Death Eater? In a way, it made sense of why Crouch seemed to dislike to him.
Bagman started, "Only, well—I know I've been a bit of an idiot—"
A few jurors smiled indulgently, although Mr Crouch didn't seemed to share their feelings, because he was staring down at Ludo Bagman with severity and dislike.
"You never spoke a truer word, boy," someone muttered to Dumbledore from behind Hailey. Hailey turned to see Moody sitting there. "If I didn't know he'd always been dim, I'd have said some of those Bludgers had permanently affected his brain…"
"Ludovic Bagman, you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort's supporters," said Mr Crouch. "For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban last no less than—"
An angry cry burst from the surrounding benches, because several witches and wizards around the walls stood up, shaking their heads, and even their fists at Mr Crouch.
"But I've told you, I had no idea!" Bagman called earnestly over the crowd's babble. His eyes widened. "None at all! Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad's…Blair Lovelace? She looked down on the Death Eaters and blood-purists when I dated her! Never crossed my mind that they were in with You-Know-Who!"
Hailey wondered if Malachi knew that aspect of his mother.
"I thought I was collecting information for our side! And Rookwood and Blair were talking about getting me a job in the Ministry later on…once my Quidditch days are over, you know…I mean, I can't keep getting hit by Bludgers for the rest of my life, can I?"
There were murmurs from the crowd.
In a cold voice, Mr Crouch said, "It will be put to the vote." He turned to the right-hand side of the dungeon. "The jury will please raise their hands…those in favour of imprisonment…"
No hands were raised and many of the jurors began clapping. One witch stood up.
"Yes?" barked Crouch.
In a breathless tone, the witch said, "We'd just like to congratulate Mr Bagman on his splendid performance for England in the Quidditch match against Turkey last Saturday."
Mr Crouch looked furious and applause rang out. Bagman stood up and bowed, grinning widely.
Bagman walked out of the dungeon and Mr Crouch sat next to Dumbledore. He spat out, "Despicable. Rookwood and Lovelace get him a job indeed…The day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a sad day indeed for the Ministry…"
The dungeon dissolved again and it returned once more. Hailey looked around; she and Dumbledore were still sitting next to Mr Crouch.
There was total silence in the dungeon; the only sound was coming from the sobs of a frail, wispy-looking witch that sat next to Mr Crouch. The witch's hands were tremebling as she held a handkerchief to her mouth.
Hailey looked at Mr Crouch to see that he looked gaunter and greyer than ever. His temple was twitching. "Bring them in." His voice echoed in the dungeon.
The door opened again and six dementors entered, flanking a group of four people. The jury looked up at Mr Crouch and a few whispered to one another.
The dementors placed the four people in four chairs and the chains glowed gold, before binding the four people.
There was a thickset man who stared in a blank manner up at Mr Crouch. There was thinner and nervous-looking man, who kept looking around at the jury. There was a woman with thick, shining dark hair and heavily hooded eyes, who sat in the chair as if it were a throne. Lastly, there was a boy in his late teens, who looked petrified and he was shivering. He had straw-coloured hair that was all over his face and he was very pale.
The witch beside Crouch started rocking back and forth, whimpering into her handkerchief.
Mr Crouch stood up and looked down at the four people in front of him, with pure hatred. "You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law, so that we may pass judgment on you, for a crime so heinous—"
"Father," interrupted the straw-coloured hair. "Father…please—"
"—that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court," continued Mr Crouch, speaking loudly to be heard over his son's voice. "We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror – Frank Longbottom – and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—"
"Father, I didn't!" shrieked Crouch's son in the center of room. "I didn't, I swear it. Father, don't send me back to the dementors—"
"You are further accused," Crouch was now bellowing to be heard, "of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom's wife, when he would not give you information. You planned to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to power, and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led while he was strong. I now ask the jury—"
"Mother!" screamed the boy and Crouch's wife started sobbing and rocking again. "Mother, stop him! Mother, I didn't do it, it wasn't me!"
Crouch shouted, "I now ask the jury to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!"
The right-hand side of the dungeon, in unison, the witches and wizards raised their hands. The jurors around the walls began clapping like they had for Bagman, seeming triumphant. Crouch's son started screaming, "No! Mother, no! I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't know! Don't send me there, don't let him!"
The dementors glided back into the room and Crouch's son's three companions rose from the chairs. The heavy-lidded woman called, "The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!"
Crouch's son was trying and failing to fight the dementors off. Hailey noticed their cold, draining power was beginning to affect the boy as the crowd jeered. Some of the jurors were on their feet as the woman was swept out of the dungeon. Crouch's son was still struggling with the dementors and screamed, "I'm your son! I'm your son!"
Mr Crouch's eyes bulged, "You are no son of mine! I have no son!" Mr Crouch's wife gasped and slumped in her seat, in a faint, and Crouch didn't seem to notice as he roared at the dementors, "Take them away!" Spit flew from his mouth, "Take them away, and may they rot there!"
Crouch's son stilled cried, "Father! Father, I wasn't involved! No! No! Father, please!"
"I think, Hailey, it is time to return to my office," a voice said in Hailey's ear.
Hailey jumped and looked around, seeing that the Dumbledore on her right was watching Crouch's son being dragged away, but there was another Dumbledore on her left, looking straight at her.
The Dumbledore on Hailey's said, "Come," and put his hand under Hailey's elbow.
Hailey felt herself rising into the air and the dungeon dissolved around her.
There was darkness and as if she had done a slow somersault, landed on her feet right in the brightness of Dumbledore's sunlit office. The Pensieve was shimmering in the cabinet in front of Hailey and Dumbledore was standing beside her.
Hailey gasped,"Professor, I know I shouldn't've – I didn't mean – the cabinet door was sort of open and—"
"I quite understand," replied Dumbledore. He lifted the Pensieve, carried it over to the desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for Hailey to sit down opposite of him.
Hailey did, staring at the Pensieve. The memories had returned to their original, silvery-white state, swirling and rippling. "I didn't mean to look through your Pensieve."
Dumbledore seemed to brighten, "Oh, so you know what it is."
Hailey wondered if she should feel offended at that. She chose not to. "I read about them." She realized that she sounded like Hermione. "I didn't realize what it was until I saw the memories in it. I couldn't help myself because I never saw one in person. I didn't know how much memories it could hold. Now that I think about it, why is there so many in there?"
"I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind," Dumbledore replied.
Hailey couldn't truthfully say that she had ever felt anything of the sort. "Oh."
"At these times," started Dumbledore, motioning to the Pensieve, "I use the Pensieve. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."
"What does it look like when you siphon off of your thoughts?" Hailey asked, in wonder.
Dumbledore took out his wand from inside his robes and placed the tip into his hair, near his temple. When he pulled the wand away, it looked like his hair was clinging to it—but it was a glistening strand of the same silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve. Dumbledore added the fresh though to the Pensieve and Hailey was astonished to see her own face swimming around the surface of the bowl. Dumbledore placed his hands on either side of the Pensieve and swirled as if he was a gold prospector panning for gold fragments. Hailey saw her face change smoothly into Snape's, who seemed to speak to the ceiling, "It's coming back…Karkaroff's too…stronger and clearer than ever…" His voice had a strange echoing quality to it.
"A connection I could have made without assistance," Dumbledore said, sighing, "But never mind." Hailey was gaping at Snape's face. "I was using the Pensieve when Mr Fudge arrived for our meeting and put it away rather hastily. Undoubtedly I did not fasten the cabinet door properly. Naturally, it would have attracted your attention."
"I'm sorry," Hailey said.
Dumbledore shook his head, "Curiosity is not a sin, but we should exercise caution with our curiosity…yes, indeed…" He frowned slightly and prodded at the thought that was in the Pensieve with the tip of his hand. A figure rose of it. The figure was a plump, scowling girl that may be sixteen years old. The girl started to slowly revolve, even though her feet were still in the Pensieve. She didn't seem to notice Hailey or Dumbledore. "He put a hex on me, Professor Dumbledore, and I was only teasing him, sir. I only said I'd seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday…" Her voice had the same echoing quality to it, like Snape's.
"But why, Bertha," said Dumbledore sadly. He was looking at the girl, "Why did you have to follow him in the first place?"
"Bertha?" Hailey whispered, looking at the girl, "Is that—was that Bertha Jorkins?"
"Yes," answered Dumbledore. He prodded at the thoughts in the Pensieve and Bertha sank back into them. They became silvery and opaque once more. "That was Bertha as I remember her at school."
The light from the Pensieve illuminated Dumbledore's face and Hailey noticed how old Dumbledore was looking. She knew that Dumbledore had been getting on in years, but she never considered him as an old man.
"So, Hailey," stated Dumbledore quietly. "Before you got lost in my thoughts, you want to tell me something."
"Yes," said Hailey, remembering why she should up. "Professor—I was in Divination just now and—er—I fell asleep." She hesitated wondering if she was going to get reprimanded for that.
"Quite understandable," Dumbledore said, "Continue."
Hailey explained the dream she had about how Voldemort got an owl, about how Pettigrew's mistake had been fixed, about how someone was dead, how Pettigrew wasn't going to be fed to the snake, which was beside the chair, how Hailey was going to be fed to the snake instead, how Voldemort did the Cruicatus Curse on Pettigrew, and then how her scar hurt so badly it woke her up.
Dumbledore continued looking at Hailey.
"Er—that's all," Hailey said.
"I see," Dumbledore said quietly. "I see. Now, has your scar hurt at any other time this yes, excepting the time it woke you up over the summer?"
"No, I—" Hailey started and trailed off. "How did you know that it woke me up?" She was astonished that Dumbledore knew. How did he know? Did Michael tell him for some reason?
"You are not Sirius's only correspondent," said Dumbledore. "I have also been in contact with him ever since he left Hogwarts last year. It was I who suggested the mountainside cave as the safest place for him to stay." He got up and started pacing behind his desk. Every now and then, he placed his wand tip to his temple, extracted a thought and added it to the Pensieve. The thoughts inside the Pensieve swirled so fast, that all Hailey could see was a blur of colour.
After a few minutes, Hailey quietly said, "Professor?"
Dumbledore stopped his pacing and looked at Hailey. Quietly, he said, "my apologies." He sat down at his desk.
Hailey asked, "D'you—d'you know why my scar's hurting me?" She knew that Voldemort had accidentally put a piece of him in her, but that doesn't explain why her scar hurts.
Dumbledore looked intently at Hailey for a moment, and then he finally said, "I have a theory, no more than that…It is my belief that your scar hurts both when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong surge of hatred."
Hailey was confused, "but…why?"
Dumbled explained, "Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed. That is no ordinary scar."
Hailey was a little unnerved by that. "So, you think…that dream…did it really happen?"
"It is possible," said Dumbledore. "I would say—probable, Hailey—did you see Voldemort?"
Hailey thought about it, "No, just the back of his chair. But—there wouldn't have been anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn't got a body has he? But…" She trailed thinking about the dream, "but then how could he have held the wand?"
"How indeed?" muttered Dumbledore. "How indeed…"
For a while, neither spoke. Dumbledore was staring across the room, and, every now and then, placed his wand to his temple to add another shining silver thought to the mass in the Pensieve.
Hailey remembered Crouch's words about Voldemort getting stronger, asked, "Professor, do you think he's getting stronger?"
"Voldemort?" asked Dumbledore, looking at Hailey over the Pensieve. It was a piercing look that Dumbledore gave her on occasion. It made Hailey feel as if the professor was seeing right through her in a way that Moody's magical eye couldn't. "Once again, Hailey, I can only give you my suspicions." He sighed. "The years of Voldemort's ascent to power were marked with disappearances. Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace in the place where Voldemort was certainly known to be last. Mr Crouch too has disappeared…within these very grounds. And there was a third disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to say, do no consider of any importance, for it concerns a Muggle. His name was Frank Bryce, he lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up, and he has not been sense since August."
Hailey thought that was kind of sad. How did Dumbledore know that if Frank Byrce was a Muggle?
"You see, I read the Muggle newspaper, unlike most of my Ministry friends," Dumbledore continued. He looked very seriously at Hailey. "These disappearances seem to me to be linked. The Ministry disagrees—as you may have heard, while waiting outside my office."
Hailey nodded and silence fell between them again. Dumbledore kept extracting thoughts every now and then. Hailey felt as if she had to go, but the court thing kept her in her chair. She tentatively asked, "Professor?"
"Yes, Hailey?" asked Dumbledore.
She asked, "er…could I ask you about…that court thing I was in…in the Pensieve?"
"You could," said Dumbledore, his voice having a heavy tone to it, "I attended it many times, but some trials come back to me more clearly then others…particularly now…"
"You know—you know the trail you found me in? The one with Crouch's son? Well…were they talking about Neville's parents?"
Dumbledore asked, "Has Neville or Colton tell you why Neville has been brought up by his grandmother?"
Hailey shook her head. She didn't know Neville that well due to different Houses and she didn't even know Colton Taylor that well, either. Besides, it doesn't seem like something that they would go talking about either.
"Yes, they're were talking about Neville's parents. His father, Frank, was an Auror just like Professor Moody. He and his wife were tortured for information about Voldemort's whereabouts after he lost his powers, as you heard."
"Are they dead?" Hailey asked quietly.
In a voice filled with bitterness, Dumbledore said, "No. They are insane. They are both in St. Mungo's Hosptial for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe Neville and Colton visits them with Neville's grandmother, during the holidays. They do not recognize them."
Hailey felt horrified and really guilty. In four years…she never bothered to ask about it…Or two years in Colton's case.
"The Longbottoms were very popular," said Dumbledore. "The attacks on them came after Voldemort's fall from power, just when everyone thought they were safe. Those attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known. The Ministry was under great pressure to catch those who had done it. Unfortunately, the Longbottoms' eveidence was—given their condition—none too reliable."
Hailey remembered Sirius saying that Crouch's son may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. "Then Mr Crouch's son might not have been involved?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "As to that, I have no idea."
They sat in silence some more, watching the thoughts in the Pensieve swirl. There were a few more questions that Hailey wanted to ask…but they concerned the guilt of living people…
"Er…" Hailey started, "Mr Bagman…"
"…has never been accused of any Dark activity since," said Dumbledore calmly.
"Right," replied Hailey hastily. "Malachi's mother…"
"Has been in Azkaban for two years, since Malachi was one," Dumbledore said. "She wasn't passing information. It was a big misunderstanding, but Mr Crouch is still distrustful of her. She hasn't been accused of any Dark activity since."
"Does Malachi know?" Hailey asked.
"I do not know," Dumbledore answered. "You have to ask him yourself."
Hailey started at the contents of the Pensieve again. One more question she had to ask, but the Pensieve seemed to know what she wanted to ask because Snape's face appeared in the Pensieve. Dumbledore glanced down at it and then looked back at Hailey. He said, "No more has Professor Snape."
Hailey looked into Dumbledore's eyes. "What makes you think he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?" She hated herself for asking that, but it just came out.
Dumbledore held Hailey's gaze. "That, Hailey, is a matter between Snape and myself." His voice held a tone that said that it was time for Hailey to go, even though he didn't look angry.
Hailey stood up, followed by Dumbledore. They walked to the door and Dumbldore said, "Hailey. Please do not speak about Neville's parents to anybody else. He has the right to let people know when he is ready."
"Yes, Professor," replied Hailey turning to go.
"Also, do not tell your friends about Malachi's mother," Dumbledore said. "I feel that one of them would be thrilled to have an actual reason to distrust Lovelace even more than he already does."
That…made no sense. Why would Ron or Michael distrust Malachi? Malachi gave them no reason to distrust them. Slowly, Hailey replied, "All…right," and turned to leave.
Dumbledore started, "And—"
Hailey turned to look back. Dumbledore was standing by the Pensieve. The light emitting from it was making Dumbledore look older than ever. He looked at Hailey for a moment and then said, "Good luck with the third task."
