Chapter 23: The Pensieve

The office door opened.

"Hello, Potter. Hello, King," said May-Eye. "Come in then."

They walked inside. Dumbledore's office was beautiful: it was a circular room, lined with pictures of previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts, all of whom were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling gently.

Cornelius Fudge was standing beside Dumbledore's desk, wearing his usual pinstriped cloak and holding a lime-green bowler hat.

"Harry! Peri!" said Fudge jovially, moving towards them. "How are you both?"

"Fine," they both said in unison, although Peri was lying she was unsure about Harry.

Cassie approached her from the side closest to where Mad-Eye was, "Peri, darling. What is it you need to discuss with Dumbledore? Perhaps we can help?"

"No, mom. Harry and I want Dumbledore."

"Oh…oh alright. Sure of course." Cassie seemed disappointed by this.

"I didn't see Madame Maxime anywhere," Harry spoke up clearly showing they had been listening in on their conversation. "And she'd have a job hiding, wouldn't she?"

Peri nodded agreeing with him, "Exactly. And Ida and Remy are the kindest souls you will ever meet. They wouldn't harm a person let alone an adult of high power. Even if they are above all of us in power."

"Yes, well," Fuge said, appearing embarrassed, "we're about to go for a short walk on the ground, Harry and Peri, if you'll excuse us…perhaps if you both just go back to your classes —"

"We wanted to talk to you, Professor." Dumbledore gave them both a swift, searching look.

"Wait here for me, Harry and Peri," he said. "Our examination of the grounds will not take long."

They trooped out in silence past them and closed the door. After a minute or so, they heard the clunks of Moody's wooden leg growing fainter in the corridor below. They both look around.

Harry approached a phoenix, who was standing on his golden perch beside the door. The size of a swan, with magnificent scarlet-and-gold plumage, he swished his long tail and blinked benignly Harry.

"Hello, Fawkes."

They both took seats in front of Dumbledore's desk. For several minutes, they remained in silence watching the headmasters and headmistresses snoozing in their frames. Peri glanced at him, he was rubbing his scar. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

His gaze moved from where he was looking at the patched and ragged Sorting Hat sitting on a shelf. There was a glass case next to it holding a magnificent silver sword with rubies set into the hilt.

"It did earlier. It is why I came to see Dumbledore."

She nodded as she noticed him raise a brow in confusion. She caught a glimpse of silvery light, dancing on his glasses. He peered around her to catch the source of the light, she turned around as well spotting a sliver of silver-white shining brightly from within a black cabinet behind her, whose door had not been closed properly. The two exchanged looks hesitating before standing, walking across the office, and pulling open the cabinet door.

A shallow stone basin lay there, with carvings along the edge: runes or symbols which Peri did not recognize. She was sure Holly would recognize them if she were here. The silvery light was coming from the basin's contents, which she seemed to recognize slightly. The memory suddenly occurred to her. It was a couple of years prior she was at the Magical Congress with Richard.

A thirteen-year-old Peri was at the Magical Congress of the United States of America with Richard one summer while he completed some work and they waited for Hallie's no-maj broadway summer class to end.

"Will you be alright alone, Peri?" President Hathaway asked her as Hathaway and Richard stood closest to the door of her office.

Peri looked up from where she was examining a crystal ball, "Oh, yes. I will be fine. I have my cup of coffee to finish."

"Very well. We will be back in a few minutes."

Peri was left alone and as soon as they left, a door to a closet creaked open and there was a sliver of silvery-white light coming from the closet. She approached it opening the door more to see a ceramic white basin white a gold trim.

"Peri?" Harry's voice pulled her from the memory.

"Sorry. This is a Pensieve."

"A Pensieve?"

She nodded as Harry looked around nervously withdrawing his wand before poking the silvery stuff inside, it began to swirl.

The two bent closer so that their heads were right inside the cabinet. The silvery substance had become transparent; it looked like glass. They looked down into it but fell into an enormous room below the surface of the mysterious substance. It felt as though she was looking through a window in the ceiling.

The room was dimly lit; perhaps it was unground, as there were no windows only torches such as the ones in the corridors of Hogwarts. She peered deeper that she was inches away from the glassy substance. There were rows and rows of witches and wizards around every wall on what seemed to be benches rising in level. An empty chair stood in the very center of the room. There was something about the chair that gave Peri had a feeling she couldn't explain. Chains encircled the arms of it as if waiting for someone to be chained to it.

The more Peri observed the surroundings she realized it was a courtroom. She had only been in one a few times with Richard who had a weird attraction to wizarding law. They would attend a lot of the ones in New York at MACUSA but occasionally they would go to Washington DC to attend the ones there, they would even sit in on the non-exiting no-maj ones.

The room below was crowded with people, far more than she had ever seen attend a trial. She leaned forward to get a closer look at the people in attendance when she fell in an almighty lurch. Giving a scream she fell onto a bench beside Harry, "Where are we?" he asked.

"It's a trial, Harry." She answered scanning the room as she worked to catch her breath.

They were on a bench at the end of the room within the basin, a bench raised high above the others. They were both equally breathing hard. No one paid any attention to them.

She looked to her right finding Dumbledore sitting with Richard on the opposite side of Harry.

"It is Dumbledore and Richard." She pointed at them.

"Professor! Mr. Banks!" Harry said in a strangled whisper. "I'm sorry — we didn't mean to — we were just looking at the basin the Dumbledore's cabinet — we — who is the trial for?"

Neither answered them but simply continued their conversation. Completely ignoring either one of them as Richard took out a small stack of pictures from his inner coat pocket. "The girls are doing lovely…I adore them greatly. My parents don't necessarily approve. But these are my girls." He looked at a picture, which Peri could see was a picture of her, Hallie, and Holly at Thanksgiving. "I hope baby Harry will have a life as lucky as I am giving these girls. They deserve the best."

"We shall see what comes for baby Harry," Dumbledore spoke calmly. "But I am pleased to hear that the girls are well. It was a shame for Hallie and Holly to lose their parents, thankfully they gained wonderful guardians."

"I am not their guardian yet when Cassie and I get married in May. I will sign the papers but not yet." He gave a soft sigh. "I adore Cassie and plan to give her the life she deserves."

Suddenly the door swung open, some footsteps were heard, and three people entered — or at least one man, flanked by two dementors.

Peri's insides went cold. The dementors — tall, hooded creatures whose faces were concealed — were gliding toward the chair in the center of the room each grasping one of the man's arms with their dead and rotten-looking hands. The man between them looked as though he was about to faint, and Peri couldn't blame him…she knew she couldn't be touched inside the memory but was too familiar with their powers. The crowd watched and recoiled slightly at the dementors as they placed the man in the chained chair and glided back. The door closed behind them.

The man chained to the chair was Karkaroff.

Karkaroff appeared much younger; his hair and goatee were black. He was not dressed in his usual sleek furs but in thin and ragged robes. He appeared to be shaking. The chains glowed gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff's arms, binding him there.

"Igor Karkaroff," said a curt voice to their left. They turned to see Mr. Crouch standing up in the middle of the bench beside him. Crouch's hair was dark, his face was much less lined, and he looked fit and alert. "You were brought from Azkaban to present evidence to the Ministry of Magic and you are aware this is a special opportunity for someone in Azkaban, especially one accused of murdering Ann and Patrick Porter. We claim to have important evidence that could allow us to release you immediately from Azkaban."

Peri sucked in a breath, "Nothing could release a man accused of murder, could it? They kept Sirius in Azkaban

Karkaroff straightened himself as best as he could.

"I have, sir," he said, although his voice was very scared. "I wish to be of use to the Ministry and help their children find comfort later in life in this unfortunate situation. I wish to help. I — I know that the 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…"

Voices murmured around the benches. Some of them were surveying Karkaroff with interest, others pronounced in mistrust. Then Harry and Peri heard, quite distinctly from Dumbledore and Richard's other side, a familiar, growling voice saying, "Filth. Patrick would be alive today if it were not for him. And darling Ann. Hallie and Holly would still have their parents."

They both leaned forward to see past Dumbledore and Richard. Mad-Eye Moody was sitting there — except there was a very noticeable difference in his appearance. He did not have his magical eye, but two normal ones. Both were looking down upon Kakaroff, and both were narrowed in intense dislike.

"Crouch is going to let him out. He's done a deal with him. Took me six months to track him down, and in the meantime, he murdered Ann and Patrick by torturing them. I do not know who died first except the other had to watch the other die." Moody breathed.

"The girls are safe in America," Richard attempted to comfort him.

Moody ignored him, "Let's hear his information, I say, and throw him straight back to the dementors."

Dumbledore made a small noise of dissent through his long, crooked nose while Richard simply wrinkled his.

"What is the matter, pretty boy? Not a fan of dementors. I know Albus does not approve of dementors."

Richard continued to look straight ahead, "I do not think it is a proper way to get information from someone. You might as well be using an unforgivable curse. Dementors remove one's happiness, and if they are to be executed, their souls are removed. There are other programs and ways to remove information from someone. The no-majs have interrogation techniques that tend to prove more helpful than when someone uses force and anger."

Dumbledore nodded agreeing with Richard, "I have long felt the Ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures."

"But for filth like this…" Moody spoke softly.

"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 always operated 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 the names of every one of our fellows — 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," Mad-Eye muttered.

"Yet you say you have some names for us?" said Mr. Crouch.

"I — I do," Karkaroff was breathless as he spoke. "And these were important supporters, make you. People I saw with my own eyes doing his bidding. I give this information as a sign that I fully renounce him and am filled with remorse so deep I can barely —"

"These names are?" Mr. Crouch asked sharply.

Karkaroff drew 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," May-Eye muttered.

"We have already apprehended Dolohov," said Crouch. "He was caught shortly after yourself."

"Indeed?" said Karkaroff, going wide-eyed. "I — I am delighted to hear it!"

He did not appear it. Peri could sense this disappointed him. One of his names was worthless.

"Any others?" Crouch asked coldly.

"Why yes…there was Rosier," said Karkaroff in a hurry. "Evan Rosier."

"Rosier is dead," Crouch said. "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," Mad-Eye whispered to their right. They looked at him and found him indicating the large chunk out of his nose to Richard and Dumbledore.

"No — no more than Rosier deserved!" said Karkaroff, a real note of panic lingering in his voice. His eyes darted to the door in the corner where the dementors still stood, waiting.

"Any more?"

"Yes!" said Karkaroff, rather quickly. "There was Travers — he helped murder the McKinnons! Mulciber — he specialed in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people to do horrific things! Rookwood, who was a spy, passed He-Who-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named useful information from inside the Ministry itself!"

"Rookwood?" Mr. Crouch asked, nodding to a witch sitting in front of him, who began scribbling upon her piece of parchment. "Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?"

"The very same," Karkaroff spoke eagerly. "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. Very well, Karkaroff, if that is all, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide —"

"Not yet!" cried Karkaroff, looking desperate. "Wait! I have more!"

Peri noticed that Karkaroff was beginning to sweat, she could see it from the torchlights.

"Erling Rice!" Karkaroff called out quickly.

"We have already investigated Mr. Rice and found him not guilty. Found that he was not faithful and was one to protect his family."

"His daughter — the younger one Cassandra Rice!"

This caused Richard to stand up, "You have no right to speak of my fiancee in that manner! She was forced against her will, then removed as soon as she was discovered to be expecting our darling Peri!"

"Thank you, Mr. Banks." Mr. Crouch said.

"She was still one willingly."

Richard glared at Karkaroff "Life or death. You join or you die. She was pregnant and joined to protect her child from death. If anyone knows Cassie, knows full well she would never do something unless she had to protect those she loved. She left the country to escape what was happening here. If she was loyal she would have stayed but she left for the protection of her children."

He sat down as there were murmurs throughout, "Silence!" Mr. Crouch said. "Ms. Rice is not going to be under investigation"

Richard sighed in relief, "I don't know what I would do if I lost her."

"You will never lose her," Dumbledore assured him. "Cassie is quite safe in America."

"Snape!" Karkaroff shouted. "Severus Snape!"

"Snape has been cleared by this council," Crouch said disdainfully. "He has been vouched for by Albus Dumbledore, just as Ms. Rice was a few weeks ago."

"No!" Karkaroff shouted, straining at the chains. "I assure you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!"

Dumbledore stood up on his feet.

"I have given evidence already on this matter," he spoke calmly. "Severus Snape and Cassandra Rice were indeed Death Eaters. Cassie as we just established joined to protect herself and her unborn child, who we now know to be Periwinkle King, from death. As for Severus Snape, however, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. Both were Death Eaters, but now neither is no more a Death Eater than I am. Or Mr. Banks here."

"Very well, Karkaroff," Mr. Crouch spoke coldly, "you have been of assistance. I shall review your case. You will return to Azkaban in the meantime…"

Mr. Crouch's voice began to fade.

"Harry?" Peri asked, nervously as everything became like smoke and swirled into darkness.

The dungeon returned before them, "What just happened?" she asked him seeing they were in new seats but still on the highest bench. They were now on Mr. Crouch's left side. The atmosphere felt different: relaxed, even cheerful. It felt more like a sporting event by the atmosphere and number of people. Peri observed the people around them. There was no Richard this time, but she spotted Dumbledore in different robes. It was a different memory…another day…another trial. She spotted a short blonde hair witch wearing magenta robes and sucking the end of an acid-green quill. A younger Rita Skeeter. Peri wrinkled her nose at this.

The door in the corner opened and Ludo Bagman walked into the room.

This was a younger, more attractive Ludo Bagman who was clearly at the height of his Quidditch-playing fitness. His nose wasn't broken now; he was tall and lean and muscular. He appeared nervous as he sat down in the chained chair, but it did not bind him as it had for Karkaroff. Bagman observed those in the crowd waving and smiling at some.

"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," Mr. Crouch began. "We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before pronouncing judgment?"

This confused Peri. The sweet Ludo Bagman who cared deeply for others? Is Ludo Bagman close with her parents? This was something she did not understand.

"Only," Bagman started, smiling awkwardly, "well — I know I've been a bit of an idiot —"

Mr. Crouch appeared to be emotionless as he stared him down.

"You never spoke a truer word, boy," someone muttered dryly to Dumbledore behind Harry and Peri. They looked around and spotted Mad-Eye sitting there again. "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," Mr. Crouch said. "For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than —"

Suddenly there was an angry outcry filling the courtroom from the surrounding benches. Several of the witches and wizards stood up, shaking their heads and some shook their fists.

"But I've told you, I had no idea!" Bagman called earnestly over the crowd's babble, "None at all! Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad's…never crossed my mind he was in with You-Know-Who! I thought I was collecting information for our side! And Rookwood kept 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?"

"It will be put to the vote," Mr. Crouch said coldly. He turned to his right. "The jury will please raise their hands…those in favor of imprisonment…"

Everyone watched the jury, but not a single person raised their hand instead they began to clap. One of the jury witches stood up.

"Yes?" barked Crouch.

"We'd just like to congratulate Mr. Bagman on his splendid performance for England in the Quidditch match against Turkey last Saturday," the witch sounded breathless.

This made Mr. Crouch furious as the dungeon was ringing with applause. Bagman got to his feet and bowed, beaming proudly.

"Despicable," Mr. Crouch spat at Dumbledore, sitting down as Bagman walked out of the dungeon. "Rookwood get him a job indeed…The day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a sad day indeed for Ministry…"

"You said the same thing about Cassie, Barty."

Mr. Crouch gave him a side-eye glance, "Cassie turned out to be a wonderful Ministry employee despite never anyone in her family ever working a day in their lives."

"That is not true. Cassie was a waitress at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade."

"It is still a shame she left us, but I understand her reasonings completely and now she is engaged to the only son of one of the wealthiest and most well-respected families in the entire world."

The dungeon dissolved again. When it returned, Peri looked around. Harry and Dumbledore were still sitting near Mr. Crouch, but the atmosphere could not have been more different than the previous memory. There was silence, except for dry sobs coming from a frail, wispy-looking witch. She was clutching a handkerchief to her mouth with trembling hands. She took notice of a young witch in either her early twenties or late teens sitting next to the witch, Peri couldn't see much but the back of her head. She was poised, sitting tall. She was dressed in all black, as if she were mourning, with a hat that had a thin veil over the front of her face not that she could see the woman's face. Harry leaned forward to look at the woman who was comforting the crying woman

Harry gasped, "That is Lydia Beausman."

"The former seeker for the Holyhead Harpies?"

He nodded excitedly, "Yes! She is fascinating. Of course, she died in that awful Quidditch accident in 1985. She was a fantastic seeker, the best they ever had if you ask me. She was a mother did you know that there is nothing in the articles about the father, all it says is she had her daughter was born in December 1980. I wasn't aware she knew the Crouch family though. We should have had her daughter in my year, but articles claim that Eva is living with her father and he chooses to keep her hidden due to her mum's fame."

Peri looked up at Crouch and saw that he looked gaunter and grayer than ever before. A nerve was twitching in his temple.

"Bring them in," he said. His voice echoed throughout the silent dungeon.

The door opened and six dementors entered flanked by four people. Pei observed the crowd, who kept turning to look up at Mr. Crouch with whispers.

The dementors placed each of the four people in the four chains with chained arms. There was a thicker-set man who stared blankly up at Crouch; a thinner, nervous-looking man had eyes darting around the crowd; a woman with thick, shining dark hair and heavily hooded eyes, who was sitting in the chained chair as if it were a throne. The final prisoner appeared familiar to Peri, she couldn't place why. He was shivering, eyes on the ground his straw-colored hair falling in his face, and his face was speckled in freckles across his milk-white skin. The wispy witch beside Crouch and Lydia Beausman began to rock backward and forward in her seat, whimpering into her handkerchief. Lydia whispered something into the witch's ear.

"You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law," Crouch spoke standing up with all four prisoners looking at him, there was pure hatred on his face, "so that we may pass judgment on you, for a crime so heinous —"

"Father," said the boy with straw-colored hair. "Father….please…"

It was Barty Crouch Jr. A young Barty Crouch Jr., but still, him.

" — that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court," Mr. Crouch spoke louder, drowning out his son's voice. "We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing Auror — Frank Longbottom —and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to know the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named —"

"Father, I didn't!" shrieked the boy in chains below. "I didn't, I swear it, Father, don't send me back to the dementors —"

"You are further accused," bellowed Mr. Crouch, "of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom's wife, when he would not give you information. As well as the murders of Auror Charles Beausman and his family, except for Ms. Lydia Beausman who thankfully was away for a Quidditch match. 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 Barty Crouch Jr. His mother began to sob and rock. "Mother, stop him, Mother, I didn't do it, it wasn't me!" He looked at Lydia he calmed but still begged, "Lydia, darling! I was with you and Eva. We were in Australia for a game of yours. I was with you…Lydia…think of Eva …please. Tell my father I was with you! Please!"

In unison, the witches and wizards along the right-hand side of the dungeon raised their hands. Lydia turned away from the prisoners as the dementors floated back into the room. Barty continued screaming as the dark-haired female prisoner looked up at Crouch and 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!"

Barty attempted to fight off the dementors to escape them and reach his parents and whatever Lydia was to him. The crowd was jeering. Some of them are on their feet. As the woman was swept out of the dungeon. Barty continued to struggle.

"I'm your son!" he screamed up at his father. "I'm your son!"

"You are no son of mine!" bellowed Mr. Crouch, his eyes bulging suddenly "I have no son! I have a granddaughter, who has no father!"

The wispy witch beside him gave a great gasp and slumped in her seat. She had fainted. Mr. Crouch appeared to not have noticed as Lydia fanned her, "You two should be ashamed! You have stressed out Mrs. Crouch far too much! Winky!"

Winky appeared with a pop holding an almost one-year-old strawberry blonde-haired child. "Ms?"

"Give me Eva, take Mrs. Crouch home." Lydia took her child from Winky as Winky left again with Mrs. Crouch.

"Daddy!" Eva attempted to reach for the young Barty Crouch Jr.

"Take them away!" Crouch roared at the dementors, spit flying from his mouth. "Take them away, and may they rot there!" He stepped down from his podium placing an arm around Lydia and escorting her out.

"Father! Father, I wasn't involved! No! No! Father, please! Eva…Eva, I will find you. I promise!"

"I think, Harry and Peri, it is time to return to my office," said a quiet voice in their ears.

The two startled and looked around to find two Dumbledores sitting, watching Crouch's son being dragged away.

"Come," Dumbledore spoke on their left, "Harry, grab Peri's arm." Dumbledore gently grabbed her elbow as Harry grabbed the other. Suddenly they were pulled back in a slow-motion somersault, landing on their feet. The stone basin was shimmering in the cabinet in front of him, and Dumbledore stood beside her.

"Professor," Harry gasped.

"We shouldn't have —" Peri started.

"The cabinet was sort of open and —" Harry continued.

"I quite understand," he assured them as he lifted the basin, carried it over to his desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for them to sit down opposite him.

They did so, staring at the stone basin and the contents inside had returned to their original, silvery-white.

"What is it?" Harry asked shakily.

"This?" Dumbledore began.

"Its a Pensieve," Peri answered.

Dumbledore and Harry looked at her, "Very good, Peri. Five points to Slytherin." She gave a small smile as Dumbledore continued. "I sometimes find, and I am sure you both know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."

Peri looked into the Pensieve, knowing very much what Dumbledore meant. She had that now. She looked at Harry, who seemed unsure about that. "I have," she answered.

"At these times," Dumbledore said indicating the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. 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 stuff's your thoughts?" Harry asked staring at the swirling white substance in the basin.

"Certainly. Let me show you."

Dumbledore drew his wand out of the inside of his robes and placed the tip into his silvery hair, near his temple. When he took the wand away, hair seemed to be clinging to it — but then they noticed that it was a glistening strand of silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve. Dumbledore added this fresh thought to the basin.

They stared into the basin. Peri watched her face change smoothly into her father's — into Snape's — who opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, voice echoing slightly.

"It's coming back…Karkaroff's too…stronger and clearer than ever…Peri must protect…"

"A connection I could have made without assistance," Dumbledore sighed, "but never mind."

He peered over the top of his half-moon glasses at them. Harry was gaping at the basin, which was still swirling around the bowl. "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 both of your attentions."

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled.

Peri jumped in before Dumbledore could respond because her curiosity was getting to her, "Where is Mr. Crouch's, granddaughter? She must live with him. Why does she not attend Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore looked at Peri giving her a soft smile, "I've attempted multiple times for Mr. Crouch to let her attend here, but he declines each year. Eva stays at the Crouch estate outside of London. She does not leave that estate from my understanding after her mother died. Such a tragedy that was, she went to live with her grandparents. They are overprotective of her. Eva receives private lessons in her home from retired Hogwarts professors."

Dumbledore looked between the two teenage students, with a small shake of his head "Curiosity is not a sin," he advised them both, "But we should exercise caution with our curiosity…yes, indeed…"

Dumbledore frowned before probing the thoughts within the basin with the tip of his wand. Instantly, a figure rose out of it, a plump, scowling girl of sixteen, who began to revolve slowly, her feet still in the basin. She took no notice of those around her. When she spoke her voice echoed, just as Snape's had done before. "He put a hex on me, Professor Dumbledore, I was only teasing him, sir, I only said I'd seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday…"

"But why, Bertha," Dumbledore asked the girl sadly. "Why did you have to follow him in the first place?"

"Bertha?" Harry whispered to Peri, looking at Bertha. "Is that — was that Bertha Jorkins?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, prodding the thoughts in the basin again; Bertha sank back into them becoming silvery once more. "That was Bertha I remember her at school."

The Pensieve light illuminated their faces, Peri took notice of Dumbledore's aging features. She knew he was older, older than her headmistress at Ilvermorny but she never truly noticed his age until this point.

"So, Harry and Peri," Dumbledore spoke quietly. "Before you both got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something."

Peri allowed Harry to begin telling him how he was in Divination when he fell asleep. Honestly, she would have done the same although very few enjoyed that class Hallie being one of the few. Harry continued discussing how in the dream he had, he witnessed Wormtail being tortured by Voldemort.

Who was Wormtail? Peri thought to herself.

Dumbledore seemed to know who he was and asked Harry to continue, must be a well-known Death Eater. Harry continued discussing his dream and mentioning his scar hurting. Peri listened to how Harry and Voldemort were connected and that is why his scar hurt. If Harry's scar was beginning to hurt, that would explain why Voldemort was returning to power. They were connected, but it did not explain why he wanted her. Why was she important?

"Peri?" Dumbledore spoke softly, "You wished to speak to me as well?"

She looked up, she must have drifted off into her thoughts. She glanced around and noticed Harry was no longer there. Her dark brown eyes met Dumbledore's soft, blue ones. "Yes. Like Harry, I have been having dreams…visions…visits even."

"Visits?" Dumbledore questioned.

She gave a nod, "Mr. Crouch's son and a man named Peter visited me at my mother's parents' house during New Year's."

Dumbledore appeared curious by this and encouraged "Barty to speak more not Peter. He said that Voldemort wants me…I'll be used for the greater good. They are encouraging my relationship with Draco when I don't love him. It is all for show, it is fake because I love someone else and so does he." She bit her lip, "They tried to have George killed. I have been…" she sucked in a shaky breath, "I can't…I am terrified."

He placed a hand on her arm, "Have you told your parents? All of them?"

"No…I can't tell them."

Dumbledore pulled a handkerchief from his drawer, "Your mother was in a similar situation when she was trying to become independent from your grandparents, but your particular case. We can protect you as we do Harry. I can inform the Order of the situation with you. I suggest you inform your parents, but the choice is yours."

She rubbed her M necklace as she dried her eyes, "I can't. They are too protective of me, I want to compete but I cannot tell them."

Dumbledore nodded, "Is there anything else?"

"My…Professor Snape…he is a…"

"A Death Eater?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"He is, but does he support him?"

"No more than mother and stepfather."

She bit her lip, "I should go, Professor."

Peri stood from her chair and made her way to the door, she paused turning back to look back at Dumbledore. The two held each other's gaze for a moment, "Your parents love you very much. That includes Professor Snape."

It was as if Dumbledore had read her mind, although she knew he hadn't. She would have known the feeling. "Thank you, Headmaster."

She left closing the door behind her slowly with Dumbledore telling her good luck on the third task as it shut.