Chapter 2

He Fears You More

Harry gazed at the letter and package from Dumbledore, which he had set on his desk. Due to the lateness of the hour and his desire not to be disturbed, he prepared himself for bed, noisily brushing his teeth in the bathroom so that everyone would know his intentions. Stepping out of the bathroom when he finished, Harry nearly bumped into Vernon, who had reemerged from his room.

"She gone now?" Vernon half asked and half stated.

"Yeah" replied Harry, "I'm going to bed now. It looks like I'll be leaving in four or five days."

"Hmph," grunted Vernon, who looked disappointed at that news as he passed by Harry heading to the kitchen for an early midnight snack. Harry knew that this "snack" would be more than most people consume in an entire day.

But this was no time to dwell on Vernon's eating habits. Harry forced himself to walk back to his room calmly, quietly shut the door, and for good measure turned the lock, even though he had no fear that any of his family would want to enter. With these preliminaries out of the way, Harry felt his heart pounding in his chest as he again considered the two items on his desk.

Deciding to save the letter for last, Harry as quietly as he could tore off the plain brown paper and twine around the package. Immediately Harry could see that the package had been magically altered so that it contained far more than would be possible under the normal rules of physics. This no longer surprised or affected Harry in any way, as after six years among wizards and witches, he had finally adjusted to these seemingly impossible feats. He briefly surveyed the contents of the package and carefully began removing its contents.

Most prominent was Dumbledore's pensieve, which Harry had entered a number of times over the past years. He held the pensieve in his hands with reverence, as he knew that such items were not common, quite expensive, and difficult to forge. A good pensieve, such as this one, would have taken months of effort by a skilled pensieve craftsman. Harry closed his eyes for a moment, and his thoughts drifted back to a conversation he had with his best friend, Hermione Granger, a year or two before.

"What I don't understand, Hermione, is why doesn't everyone have a pensieve. They're really useful, but the only one I've ever seen is Dumbledore's."

"Oh, that's easy. I read about them in an interesting book; I think it was called Pensieves through the Ages or something like that. Pensieves are terribly hard to make, and there are only a few skilled craftsmen in the whole world. There are none in England, or at least there weren't when the book was written, so any pensieve sold in Britain has to be imported and is extremely expensive. Dumbledore's probably is worth thousands of galleons. To make one, you need specific ingredients - I don't remember what they are - but they're uncommon and expensive. Then the craftsman has to prepare three or four complicated potions that take months to complete, and then the potions are mixed in precise portions with the other ingredients. Finally, several secret spells have to be performed just right. The spells have been passed down for centuries and are closely guarded secrets. In fact the spells are slightly different among different craftsmen, and there is a lot of debate about which pensieves are the best." Hermione managed to say all of this seemingly without taking a breath, and Harry and his other best friend, Ron Weasley, hung their mouths open in amazement.

When she had to stop for a moment to breathe, Ron managed to say, "Is there anything you don't know, Hermione?"

"And how can you say so much without stopping to breathe," added Harry.

Hermione pursed her lips in that smugly satisfied expression of hers which feigned disapproval.

"Well, it is interesting, you know. I just thought you might like to learn something for a change."

"Well, you're right, it really is interesting. I had no idea they were so hard to make, but I guess that makes sense; otherwise, everyone would have one. I'm not sure I would want one though; not a lot of memories in my life that I'd really like to relive," Harry commented, drawing a worried expression from Hermione.

Back to reality, Harry examined the intricately carved exterior of the pensieve before carefully setting it on the middle of his desk, as far away from the edges as possible. In a smaller container, Harry removed several vials which he knew contained memories which Dumbledore and Harry had studied just a few weeks ago. It appeared to Harry, however, that additional vials had been included beyond what he had viewed with Dumbledore. He would have to look into that later.

Reaching back into the box, Harry carefully lifted two books which had been wrapped in plain brown paper by the headmaster with a notation "for Harry Potter." Harry unwrapped the paper carefully; he knew the books must have been a part of Dumbledore's personal library. Dumbledore, of course, had a personal library perhaps unmatched in all the world, not for its size but for the rarity of many of its volumes. Both of these books were quite thin, not more than fifty pages or so. The first appeared to be ancient, simply entitled Horcruxes . The second book did not exactly seem new either, but by appearance it was less than one hundred years old. Stamped on the cover appeared a large red RESTRICTED, and Harry determined that it came from a series of books called The Advanced Wizard's Resource for the Dangerous and Unusual. The title of this book was only slightly less simple than the first: Horcruxes: Myths and Realities. Obviously Dumbledore wanted Harry to learn what there was to learn about Horcruxes, which from the look of these underfed books would not be a lot.

A surprised Harry next pulled out two muggle-style spiral notebooks, one with a worn green cover and the other with a new red one. Flipping the pages, Harry immediately recognized the unique script of the headmaster and realized that these contained his personal notes, most likely about his search for Voldemort's horcruxes. Why Dumbledore used muggle notebooks remained a mystery, but Dumbledore was nothing if not unpredictable. The worn notebook had been completely filled while the newer one only had about ten pages of notes. These notes, Harry knew, were invaluable, and the drop of hope which entered Harry's heart before he opened the package had grown to a wave. He had someplace to start.

Thinking the package empty, Harry reached out to move it away but felt something else inside. He reached in and pulled out a bag of lemon drops, Dumbledore's favorite treat. Harry's initial surprise was immediately replaced first by a smile, then a constriction in his chest and throat, and finally a throttled grunt as Harry worked hard to maintain his composure. Such a simple gift would have been meaningless to most, but Harry knew that this was Dumbledore's unique way of showing his love and affection, and Harry realized more that ever how much he missed the old man. Although not especially fond of lemon drops, in honor of his departed mentor, he popped one into his mouth.

Finally the moment had arrived. Not sure why, Harry found himself reluctant to open the letter. For no reason other than delay, Harry turned the envelope over several times, examining who knows what carefully. The front of the envelope simply stated, "To be delivered to Harry Potter in the event of my death. Albus Dumbledore." Not finding any other reason to postpone it, Harry finally slit open the envelope with his small pocketknife, and pulled out three long pieces of parchment filled with Dumbledore's familiar handwriting.

Dear Harry,

Given the fact that you are reading this letter, you are of course aware that I have moved on to the next adventure. I am quite aware, Harry, of the difficulty my death will cause you, and for that I am sincerely sorry. It is my hope that by means of this letter, and several items to be delivered with it, I can provide you with some additional information to assist you in your quest.

I am aware of certain facts which lead me to believe that my death may be imminent, though as I write this I am hopeful that I shall be able to avoid that fate for at least a while longer. However, it appears that I have failed. As you know, Harry, you must continue down the path which we have begun together. Know that you have my utmost confidence, and I am sure of your ultimate success.

As I write this, you have done me the great favor of recovering the vital memory from Professor Slughorn, which we viewed together just a few days ago. Moreover, I believe that I have located one of Voldemort's horcruxes, and I have decided to take you with me in the attempt to find and destroy it. Doubtlessly, this will be a dangerous endeavor, and I have debated long and hard whether I should take you with me. In the end, the choice is clear. I am an old man, Harry, and though you may not realize it, my powers are gradually diminishing. I need your help. Voldemort will not have left such a prized possession without ample protection, and I fear that I may not survive the effort I must make. You have proven yourself to me, Harry, and from now on you will be my companion in adventure. Only you will know the success or failure of our attempt to destroy another piece of Voldemort's soul.

If I am not mistaken, you will have already opened the package with certain items I would like you to have. The pensieve and memories, of course, are self-explanatory. You may have noticed two additional memories to the ones which we viewed together. These are two of my own memories of chance meetings with Tom Riddle. The first occurred on Knockturn Alley and the second on Diagon Alley. I have not gleaned any helpful information from them, but I feel there is something there that I am missing. Perhaps you can discern what I cannot. Do not dwell unduly on the memories, as I believe you already know what you need, but there may come a time when a review of these memories may serve to assist you.

Before I go on, Harry, I should mention that I have not provided for you in my Will. You are already an extremely wealthy young man and have no need of more, and if I am not mistaken, you would prefer not to inherit from me. I have made arrangements for my estate to be held in trust for a number of causes dear to me, including Hogwarts. My pensieve, however, is perhaps my most prized possession, and it pleases me greatly to know that you will take possession of it. A word of warning, however. You will recall my words when I found you with the Mirror of Erised. The same can be true of a pensieve. Many have succumbed to the temptation to relive their past, forgetting to live in the present. Use it wisely.

You by now have seen the two books from my library. These are the only two books on horcruxes that I have discovered. Obviously you should read them, else I would not have given them to you, but do not assume that the contents of the books are correct in all respects. The reality of the matter is that little is conclusively known about horcruxes. As you can understand, it is a difficult subject to study, and to be frank, the books contain much rank conjecture. I have noted my disagreement with certain assertions in the margin, and you will notice that in many respects the two books are contradictory. Nevertheless, they have been of some use to me.

With regard to my two notebooks, these contain a record of my findings in my search for the horcruxes. Again, do not assume that all of this information is reliable, for it is the work of a fallible human being. You already know many of my conclusions, especially the conclusions in which I have greatest confidence, but I have written less certain ideas, some of which may turn out to have validity. May my work provide you with a starting point for your mission.

Note that I have used muggle notebooks and a ball point pen. Why not quill and parchment? Because muggle paper and pens are far superior to quills and parchments. There is an important lesson in this, Harry. We wizards and witches have so segregated ourselves from the muggle world that we fail to appreciate that muggles are far more accomplished and inventive than we are. Electric lighting is vastly superior to candles and oil lamps, yet we refuse to admit to the obvious. Do not forget your muggle roots, Harry, for I believe that they will be of great benefit to you in your struggle. Remember that Voldemort has turned his back on all things muggle and considers them inherently inferior. Do not make the same mistake!

This next statement may be hard for you to accept, Harry, as I do not know the circumstances of my death. You must believe me when I tell you that I trust Professor Snape and that you must as well. No matter how Professor Snape may or may not have been involved in my death, I am completely sure of his loyalty. One of my greatest failures has been my inability to facilitate an end to hostilities between the two of you, and I am fully aware of my foolishness to believe this ever to be possible. Nevertheless, Professor Snape is not a disciple of Lord Voldemort, no matter what has occurred to make you think otherwise. I cannot overstate the importance of this statement, Harry. If you do not trust Professor Snape, then you likely will fail in your task!

Had I lived, I intended to take you to your parents' home at Godric's Hollow on your seventeenth birthday. It is important for your development as a wizard, I have reason to believe, that you visit your first home on the date of your majority. There you will find the graves of your parents. Place your hands on their graves. Once you do so, you will understand.

I will leave you with one last thought. Have you ever considered that however much you may fear Lord Voldemort, he fears you more. Undoubtedly you are shaking your head with the certainty that your headmaster has at last lost all of his mental faculties, but I can assure you that while my body may be failing, my mind remains completely sane. My statement is in fact quite plain to anyone who is aware of the facts. Voldemort feared you as a baby and went to extraordinary lengths to kill you before you could gain power, yet he failed spectacularly. He has since attempted to kill you in one way or another four more times, each ending in failure. Do you need more proof? I can assure you beyond any doubt that you are the only person ever to have successfully resisted Voldemort's imperius curse. Only a wizard of immense power could have done this. When your brother wands linked in the graveyard, a struggle of pure magical power ensued. A fourteen-year old half-blood, muggle-raised wizard defeated a great dark lord. At the Ministry, Voldemort's attempt to possess you again resulted in disaster for him. Can you not see that I am correct? Voldemort fears you!

Harry, you possess the most raw magical power of any wizard I have ever known, including myself. Due to the tragic circumstances of your childhood, you have not yet realized the potential of this power. Remember that at its core, magic is simply the desire the make something happen and then causing it to happen. Spells and wand movements assist us, but desire and confidence are the key. Believe in yourself! Believe that you will succeed!

I have learned more from you, Harry Potter, than from any other person in my overly long life. The pain which I have caused you during your short life has burdened me, and I can only once again ask for your forgiveness and understanding. Just as you are now, I was faced with difficult choices; sometimes I chose well, sometimes not. Yet in the end I have the comfort of knowing that you have turned out to be a better person than I could ever have hoped. Remember me kindly, Harry.

With great affection,

Albus Dumbledore

Snape! Harry could not believe Dumbledore's words, and the rest of the letter blurred, overwhelmed by the hatred he felt for the man. Snape! Impossible! He killed Dumbledore right in front of Harry's eyes, and though the young wizard tried to force the memory from his mind, he would never forget the look of hatred on Snape's ugly face the moment before he pronounced the spell that took the headmaster's life. No, Dumbledore was fooled. Snape had been acting all those years, and if his act never convinced Harry, it fooled the professor. Snape! Harry had fantasized about how he would avenge Dumbledore's death, how he would make that evil man suffer, how he would physically abuse and mentally torture the man. In fact, Harry's hatred for Severus Snape reached deeper even than his hatred for Voldemort. At least Voldemort made no pretense of his intentions and his evil nature. Harry could understand Voldemort even if he hated him, but Snape was another matter altogether. Snape deceived. He toyed with people's minds, especially Harry's. How could Dumbledore have written that? How could he expect Harry to trust such a man?

Somehow Harry ended up sitting on the floor of his room with his back against the wall at the foot of his bed, though he did not recall how he arrived at that position. Apparently he had been there for some time for he felt stiffness in his back, and the discomfort finally snapped him out of the Snape-induced stupor. He stood, stretched his back, and then glanced at the letter which now lay on the carpet.

A twinge of doubt entered Harry's mind, and though he tried to suppress it, he could not. Could Dumbledore be right? Usually he was, though he had made his fair share of mistakes. Still, he sounded so sure. It all overwhelmed him, and Harry threw himself onto his bed exhausted. In a moment, he fell asleep.