It seems I've not been balancing this very well, for this chapter is a monster… almost 6,000 words! Sorry for the delay, have been a bit busy with interviews.
Chapter Twelve - The History of Andromidus
The moment Harry opened the door to his cabin Dobby came barrelling into his midsection, a note in his hand. "Master Harry!" he squealed waving one of his tiny knobbly fists in the air, in which was clutched a small note. Harry smiled as he took the piece of parchment, recognising Hermione's neat handwriting. He unfolded it and smoothed it out on the table.
"Dear Harry,
How are you? I was just sending a quick note to ask if you could help teach my seventh year class tomorrow? We're starting human transfiguration and, since I have a large class, I'd appreciate a bit of help in what could be a rather manic practical lesson! You'll be able to teach Ginny too!
Also I think Professor Diggory may ask for your assistance too with teaching his defence lesson about Dementors. Dumbledore has decided that, despite the fact there aren't many left, in the current climate it would be a good idea for the students to learn. He has even obtained a Bogart! Unless your fear has changed? Send Dobby back with your answer.
Love Hermione."
Harry considered for a moment. Were Dementors still his greatest fear? Harry had to confess that they weren't: the discovery of the golden patronus had meant that there was a way of getting rid of Dementors. His greatest fear now, he had to admit, was losing Ginny. Not to Matt; not that sense of loss, but to Andromidus. Harry had to acknowledge that his greatest fear was of the wizard he had first come to know as Number Two. Harry had felt something when he had first met Andromidus, something intangible and indefinable, but Harry now knew that it was straight-forward fear. He considered how to phrase this in a message, but just decided to write that he would love to help but that he doubted whether a Dementor was his greatest fear, so he was unsure as to whether he would be able to help Professor Diggory. Scribbling this down on the back of the parchment, he handed it back to Dobby, who disappeared with a loud crack.
*
Sure enough, the following day, on his way to Hermione's class, Harry was called over by Professor Diggory, who beckoned him into his classroom. Harry smiled and followed him into the classroom, where Mr Diggory indicated a chair, on which Harry sat.
"Professor Granger informs me that you are assisting her with a large class this morning?" Harry nodded. "She also tells me that she mentioned that I might require a bit of help this week?" Harry nodded again.
"She said you were using a Bogart to teach students about Dementors," Harry said quickly, his eyes darting to the wardrobe behind Mr Diggory, which gave an ominous rattle. Mr Diggory smiled.
"Indeed I am," he said, nodding approvingly at the wardrobe. "I am sure you can see the problem, however? What if no one in this class is afraid of Dementors? Or feels more scared of something other than Dementors?" Mr Diggory paused significantly.
"And you've heard that a Bogart turns into a Dementor when I'm near it?" Mr Diggory nodded, laughing. "Well, I don't know if it still would... Dementors just don't hold the same fear for me any more; not since it was figured out how to kill them."
"You mean not since you figured it out?" Mr Diggory corrected him. "Still, that is indeed a problem and it is why you are here now. With your permission, I would like to find out." Harry, who had suspected that this was why he was in here, nodded slightly warily, and got to his feet, drawing his wand. "You remember the spell?"
"Riddikulus," Harry replied quickly, and Mr Diggory inclined his head approvingly. He pointed his wand at the wardrobe and the doors swung open. There was a moment of silence, and then a Death Eater stepped out of the wardrobe, his wand raised.
"We've got her, Harry," said Andromidus' calm voice. "We've got her and you can't stop us. We'll bring him back, Harry..." Harry, shaking himself and reminding himself of what he needed to do, raised his wand.
"Riddikulus!" The Death Eater buckled, its robes turning a rosy pink as it was forced into one of Harry's Aunt Petunia's favourite cocktail dresses. Mr Diggory grinned at Harry, making sure he didn't laugh aloud, and forced the Bogart back into the wardrobe.
"A dress?" he asked lightly, allowing himself a laugh.
Harry laughed too. "I got the idea from Neville," he said quickly. "He used to make Professor Snape wear his grandma's clothes." Professor Diggory roared with laughter. He strode towards the door, which he opened for Harry, still chortling.
"Well Harry," he said, beaming at him with badly-suppressed mirth, "As amusing as that was it means that you're off the hook. You are of course welcome to come and help whenever you like, just come and see me in the morning before hand and I'll let you know what's going on." Harry nodded briefly, flashed a quick smile at Professor Diggory, and then headed off towards Hermione's classroom. He was there before the rest of the class, and he entered to find Hermione writing notes on the board.
"Hey Harry!" she said, turning as he knocked on the door. "I was so glad when you said you'd come. I think this lesson might be a bit... exuberant!"
"Which bit of human transfiguration are you doing?" Harry asked, turning his attention to the blackboard. "Facial features?"
"Yes," said Hermione, sounding half sceptical and half amused, "can't see it being the most productive lesson, can you?" Harry laughed, and went to sit on the chair that had been conjured for him by Hermione, a bright red squishy armchair. "Will you find it weird teaching Mrs Potter?" Harry threw a cushion at her.
"Her name," he said, punctuating the gap with the throw of another cushion, "is Ginny. And no, I taught her in the D.A. before didn't I?"
"True," Hermione answered, sniggering as she used her wand to shoot the cushions back at Harry.
"Now is that really the way teachers are supposed to behave, Professor?" The smirking face of Matt Taylor had appeared in the doorway, followed by Leanne Filroy and several other seventh years. Hermione shot a reproachful look at Harry who was shaking with suppressed mirth on his chair and desperately trying, and failing spectacularly, to keep a straight face.
"Mr Potter here was just demonstrating how to get hit by a cushion," Hermione answered through her own badly masked smile.
"And Professor Granger would like a foot of parchment on it for homework," said Harry quickly, before being hit over the head with another cushion. Hermione shook her head at him as Leanne burst out laughing, although Harry couldn't help but notice that Matt's laughter was less impressed. He watched them all take their seats, looking out for Ginny.
"Mrs Potter can't make it today Professor," Leanne piped up as she took her seat right at the front of the class. "Hospital wing." Hermione shot a worried glance at Harry who, after a moment's recollection, put up a placating hand.
"She went up yesterday," he said, frowning at both the memory and the fact that the empty seat was next to Matt, "something about eating some bad sweets, though I'm surprised that she's not back yet." He shook his head at Hermione's unspoken offer for Harry to go and see her, and she smiled appreciatively at him before turning to the class.
"Today we are going to be having a practical lesson on human transfiguration," she said clearly, and Harry was impressed by how well she had settled into the job: her voice was confident and unwavering, even though Harry was in the room. "It will be a simple lesson but, due to the size of the class, I have asked Professor Potter here to come and help." Harry couldn't help but wince slightly at his being referred to as "Professor Potter". "We will start the lesson, "Hermione continued, "by practising some simple facial alterations. Now I know some of you are already envisioning some humorous and somewhat crude transfigurations, but anything I deem to be too lewd or offensive will result in the docking of points, even from my own house." Harry had forgotten that Hermione had recently taken over the duties of head of house, although there was nothing particularly onerous about this.
Hermione directed the attention of the class to the blackboard. "First of all, we will be trying some simple colour changing. The first line on the board demonstrates how to change hair colour from the natural colour to grey. This can be particularly useful in Auror work if to disguise oneself they need to look elderly. The incantation is "canities mutatio", and must be followed with a simple jab of the wand. Ha- Professor Potter, can you stand up a moment?"
Having once seen Ron come back from a raid having forgotten to change his hair colour, (the sight of a Weasley without red hair was one that Harry had found very disconcerting), Harry got to his feet without feeling too much anxiety. He faced Hermione who gave him a small smile, and she raised her wand.
"You simply say the charm and then poke your wand at the person you are wishing to charm," she said, turning her head to address the class. "For an Auror to perform it on themselves they aim their wand inwards" [she turned her wand and mimed poking it towards her self before aiming it at Harry again] "but today I will be demonstrating with Professor Potter."
"Indeed," said Harry, who jabbed his wand at Hermione, "canities mutatio!" He hadn't been able to resist; he had reassured himself with the fact that the class all knew Hermione well and that she would take the funny side, and he was very relieved when, after her bushy hair had turned a silvery grey colour, she reluctantly laughed along with the rest of the class. She pointed her wand at him and, muttering something indistinguishable, she waved it slowly in a circular motion. There was a pause for a moment and Harry was aware that everyone seemed to be studying his face. A second later the entire class burst out laughing and Harry, completely unsure as to what they were laughing at, conjurored a small mirror and held it up to his face. There were, in bright letters, words written across his face. The read:
"This will happen if you misbehave." The words glimmered plainly across his face and Harry shook his head as he cast the counter curse, but couldn't help a small grin crossing his face. "Thank you, Professor," Hermione addressed him, her hair returned to its usual brown colour, "for demonstrating both the spell and the punishment for inappropriate charms. If I see anything, anything going on that shouldn't be, some sort of message will appear that you will be unable to eradicate for the rest of the day. So partner up with the person next to you, Matt you go with Leanne and Sarah, and I want you to try out the charm. You may begin."
There was a scraping of chairs as the class got to their feet, wands drawn, facing each other. Harry reminisced fondly for a moment about his own practical lessons, before remembering with a jolt that he was supposed to be helping Hermione. He quickly got to his feet and started to patrol the class. Hermione had been quite right to ask for help. The class was very exuberant; especially Matt, Leanne and the other girl, Sarah, over in the corner. Harry spent a reasonable amount of time with these three, partly, he was slightly ashamed to admit, because of the mildly vindictive pleasure he got from watching Matt fail spectacularly to perform the charm and Harry having to rectify it for him, eliciting a very muted and reluctant thanks.
As the lesson wore on the charms became more exciting and the class became more excitable. A student's maturity goes right out of the window in a practical lesson, Harry thought, looking fondly around the class. He was watching the trio again and Matt failing once more to accomplish the current charm. Harry once again corrected the mistake and showed him what he was doing wrong, though he couldn't help the small laugh that escaped his mouth. Matt heard and turned away, blushing furiously. Harry wandered his way back up to the front of the classroom, aware that Hermione was about to finish the class, before suddenly he was forced off his feet and slammed into the furthest blackboard.
A crack echoed around the room as, covered in chalk from head to toe, Harry rose to his feet as quickly as he could, not caring about his appearance, his wand raised towards the door. The class was deathly silent but there was no-one there. He strode towards the doorway, and looked out into the corridor, but there was no mystery assailant; no fading footsteps. Harry re-entered the class room, looking suspiciously around the room as Hermione, looking concernedly into Harry's eyes, waved her wand up and down to siphon off the chalk coating Harry's body. Harry, however, was looking at the class, but could detect no hint of any malice, not even from Matt.
"Who did that?" Harry's voice was low and even he was surprised by the enormous rage that lurked behind it. The class was silent, each looking around at their classmates, stunned, although none of them except Leanne met his eye, and Harry knew it wasn't her. His eyes lingered longest on Matt, but he forced himself to look away, knowing that the longer he looked the more he would convince himself of Matt's guilt. He couldn't help but see a shifty expression on Matt's face, but he knew he could just be seeing what he wanted to see.
"Are you okay Harry?" Hermione asked, gingerly placing a restraining hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry nodded, recognising the unspoken plea for calm, and he mentally shook himself, relaxing his aggressive posture and sitting back down in the red armchair. Shakily, Hermione asked the class what Harry had asked them and, after getting no more a reaction than Harry did, she dismissed them. The class strode out of the door, some looking afraid, most looking puzzled. When the last member of the class, (Leanne, who had briefly checked on Harry personally), had left the room, Hermione shut the door and made it so that no one could hear through it. She peered at Harry for a moment as she conjurored a chair for herself, which she promptly fell back into.
"Are you alright?" she repeated cautiously. Harry nodded.
"Sorry to get so angry back then," he said in a slightly muted voice, not meeting Hermione's eyes, "I don't know what came over me."
"No, no," Hermione reassured him instantly, "I don't blame you at all. Anyone would have been upset; I just wanted to say thanks for not flying off the handle. I know Ron would have arrested the entire classes until someone talked!" Harry allowed himself a small smile at this image, but continued to puzzle over the incident.
"Do you think whoever did it meant it as a joke, or was actually malicious?" Harry asked, absent-mindedly trying to flatten his hair. "Or could it have been an accident?"
"Well..." Hermione started slowly, obviously slightly uneasy as to what she was about to say, "I know you'd like to know who did it and if they meant you any harm, but it's quite possible that it was an accident. The last charm we were practising, hair removal, is not too far away from the reductor curse, which would quite easily knock you off your feet. The reductor curse only reduces objects, not people or animals. They just get hit by it."
"Which makes it much better," Harry remarked dryly, and he couldn't help rolling his eyes slightly. Hermione visibly relaxed, and she let out a small giggle. "I'm going to go and see Ginny," he said, getting to his feet. "I'll see you soon, okay?" Hermione nodded and they both got to their feet. Harry gave her a quick hug before leaving the classroom, and heading for the hospital wing.
*
Ginny, it transpired, had been diagnosed with a strong bout of "Weasleyitis", in the words of Madam Pomfrey. "She appears to have eaten lots of those beastly sweets in one go," the nurse told Harry in her ringing, impatient tones. "A bet I daresay?" She didn't wait for Ginny to answer, instead shooing them both away from the hospital ward and bustling back in to attend to another patient. Ginny was suppressing a laugh with difficulty, which she let out as soon as they were out of earshot.
"What happened?" said Harry, beaming as he couldn't help but be caught up in Ginny's infectious laughter. Ginny took a few moments to compose herself.
"Oh, I'm not laughing about that," she said, putting an arm around Harry's waist, still breathing with a bit of difficulty. "It's about the boy who was brought in after me..." Ginny explained about how the boy had been out on a secret date with someone else from Ravenclaw, and they had been on a broomstick sitting on top of one of the turrets. But on their way back down the girl had given the boy a kiss on the neck that had distracted him so much that he had fallen off his broom. Upon completion of this tale Ginny burst into fits of giggles again, and Harry had to wait until they were almost out of the castle before he could ask the question that was burning in his head.
"How did you get ill? I can't believe you'd eat lots for a bet..." Harry trailed off and Ginny's forehead creased into a frown.
"I've been wondering about that," she said, guiding Harry out of the Entrance Hall and in the direction of Hagrid's house. "I just became really ill when I was in the library..."
"With Matt?" Harry finished for her. Ginny gave him a startled look.
"How did you know that?" she asked, and Harry was astonished to see the colour rising in her cheeks. "Were you watching me?" Her voice had risen slightly and Harry quickly explained about the room of requirement and the cracking sound that he had heard. Ginny looked as puzzled as Harry felt. "So there was no one there?"
"Nope," Harry shook his head. There was a moment of contemplative silence. "So... did you do anything in the library which could have made you feel ill? Eat something?"
"Well..." she paused and Harry could see a slightly guilty expression crossing her face, "Matt brought some sweets in which we kept under the table..." Her expression changed to one of confusion. "But I can't see that being the cause of my feeling ill." Harry could not see any reason why Matt would make Ginny ill if he liked her and he had to concede that, although he didn't trust Matt's relatively open courtship of Ginny, he didn't think that he was responsible.
Instead of speculating on this subject Harry instead told Ginny about the classroom incident that had taken place just a few minutes before. As well as outraged surprise Ginny offered an extra insight and view that Harry hadn't thought of.
"Was this in Hermione's classroom on the third floor?" she asked, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"No, she had to be moved to the ground floor as it was a practical lesson," Harry said, wondering where this was going. "Her one on the third floor is a bit small for that sort of thing. Why?"
"Can you remember if the window was open?" she asked, stopping outside Harry's cabin and looking him straight in the eye. Harry thought for a moment. He pondered standing watching Matt struggle to transform Leanne's hair as it was fluttering so badly in the breeze just before the end of the class. Indeed, that had been the moment that Harry had been unable to help laughing at Matt.
"It was..." he said, pausing as he realised the ramifications of this. "Do you think someone could have been stood outside the window?"
"Only option I can see," she said, shrugging slightly and giving him a quick kiss, "but sadly I can't stay. I've already missed Hermione's lesson and I don't think I should miss Emily's too." Harry laughed although he was a bit sad that Ginny was leaving so soon, but he appreciated that she had walked down with him. He watched her go before turning into his new cottage, where Dobby instantly met him with a large mug of tea.
"Thanks Dobby," Harry said gratefully, slumping down into his armchair. "It's been an interesting morning," he mused aloud.
"Is Master Harry okay?" Dobby asked in his squeaky manner.
"I'm alright," Harry said, "Just had some strange stuff going on. This morning I helped Hermione to teach a class and I got attacked from behind." Dobby let out the appropriate shocked gasp.
"Did you see who is doing it?" Dobby asked, his eyes even wider than usual, a feat that Harry found both amusing and disturbing.
"No, sadly not," he said, and Harry couldn't help but be amused at the disappointed slump in Dobby's shoulders. "I thought it might be Matt at first, but I think it is more likely that the charm came through the window. So I've no idea who did it..."
"Is this Master Taylor that you is telling me about yesterday?" Dobby asked, and Harry nodded. "The one you think is in love with my Mistress?"
"That's the one," Harry said, sighing and taking his glasses off so that he could rub his eyes. "But maybe I'm just seeing what I want to see." He absent-mindedly ran his hand through his hair again. "Maybe I'm just seeing what I want to see."
*
Harry received an invitation from Dumbledore the next morning to have a lesson with him the following week. Harry had to admit to himself that he was very relieved about this; he had been getting worried about the lack of interaction with Dumbledore. He also hoped that he could use the opportunity to find out what Dumbledore had been up to recently during his time away from Hogwarts.
Harry's next few days were spent either in the Room of Requirement or helping Hermione, Emily or Hagrid with their duties. He had got up to the most difficult stage of the Quidditch Chamber and had been spending a lot of time in the Animagus training section. The muggle games area had been basically ignored entirely, and the time spent in the library had been negligible. The lessons with Hermione and Emily had been fairly straight forward, but the time helping Hagrid tend to the animals and creatures of the forest had been strange. There was a definite sense in the forest of unrest, one which Harry felt most when conversing with the herd of centaurs who patrolled the forests.
They were clearly rattled. When Harry found himself helping Hagrid to tend to an old male centaur who had somehow managed to impale himself on an exposed tree limb, the fallen centaur spoke of his herd's growing unease.
"There is something not quite right in the world, Hagrid and Harry Potter," he said in a slow, mournful voice. "We centaurs look to the future, but there is a feeling amongst the herd of an evil, something as intangible as silence but as inescapable as the breeze. It is out there, Hagrid and Harry Potter, and it is coming."
Whilst on their way back out of the forest Hagrid brushed this talk away as "centaur-nonsense", but Harry was not so sure, and his looming meeting with Dumbledore somehow increased his suspicions. He headed up to the castle on the evening of his meeting with no small amount of trepidation. Did Dumbledore want to see him just about talking to the next realm, or was there something more? What was the magical object needed to communicate? These two questions chased each other around Harry's head as he wound his way through the surprisingly quiet corridors. He reached the gargoyle and, after giving the password, (which had not changed from "Honeydukes"), stepped onto the moving staircase which stopped facing the door of Dumbledore's office. He paused for a moment and adjusted his robes, before knocking on the door.
"Enter," a voice answered at once, and Harry opened the door to find Dumbledore getting to his feet, his arms outstretched. "Good evening Harry," he said warmly, and he surprised Harry by embracing him. Although Dumbledore was one of the strongest advocates of love and affection, he and Harry had only embraced on a couple of important occasions, like Harry's return from the next realm and his marriage to Ginny. Despite that the embrace was obviously meant as a welcome and a reassurance, the fact that it had happened at all served to make Harry very nervous. What was so significant?
"Please, sit," Dumbledore said, indicating the usual chair in front of the desk as he released Harry. Harry sank slowly down into the seat, his hands falling heavily on the arm rests as Dumbledore sat himself behind his desk, placing his elbows softly on the table, his hands pressed together as if in prayer. He was looking Harry directly in the eye with that piercing gaze, but Harry could detect no hint of the worry that Mr Weasley was evidently suffering from.
"First of all, Harry," Dumbledore began, his blue eyes not leaving Harry's green ones, "I must thank you for helping Professors Hilier, Granger and Hagrid. I know that they all very much appreciate your assistance." Harry blushed appropriately and made to wave it away, a gesture Dumbledore obviously found slightly amusing as the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. "I'm sure you must have questions as to where I have been recently?"
"I'm sorry sir?" Harry asked, completely caught off guard by Dumbledore's frankness. Dumbledore smiled broadly.
"Whether you were intending to inquire or not about my recent activities, I think it is only right that you are kept informed," he said softly, adjusting his glasses. "You see, I have been involved in activity on two fronts. The first I have just been discussing with the Minister. We have been trying to investigate the activities of Andromidus and Regalus. It seems that they somehow planted a memory inside Charlie Holloway's head. I know that you are already aware of this, being the one who spotted it," [Harry could have sworn that Dumbledore gave him a small wink at this point] "but still it is important as it is the place where our investigations began.
"We have been able to prove through experimentation that the memory could have been planted earlier," Dumbledore said, once more examining his long slender fingers, "but we cannot prove that this is what has actually happened. I'm afraid that, technically, we cannot rule out the spell being cast within Godric's Hollow, although I personally do not doubt any member of the Order." He paused, and his mouth twitched slightly. "Though Alastor of course disagrees."
There was a brief silence as Harry took this in. He didn't know if he felt relieved or unnerved by this information. Like Dumbledore, Harry had been vocally very much of the trusting disposition, but since the incidents outside the room of requirement, (which he was admittedly becoming less sure about), and in Hermione's class earlier, he was becoming more than a little paranoid. Deciding not to tell Dumbledore this, Harry waited until his former headmaster spoke again.
"The investigations into the memory planting are part of the much larger and further reaching search for Regalus, Andromidus, and all their associated Secret Elite members. This is a hefty workload for Arthur and for the Aurors as a whole, as your friend Mr Ronald Weasley may have told you, as it incorporates the hunt for missing witches and wizards as well as memory modification in muggle areas. I won't deny that the mission has not, as yet, been very successful, and that as you may have noticed, Arthur is suffering more than somewhat." Harry looked up at Dumbledore to see that Mr Weasley was not the only one who looked tired. The sparkle was still there in Dumbledore's eyes but, to Harry, it didn't seem as bright as it had been in the past. There was a slight air of weariness that permeated all of Dumbledore's words and actions, weariness that Harry had been so shocked to discover when Dumbledore had first shown Harry his new cottage across the lake. Dumbledore must have realised what Harry was thinking as he rearranged his face into its reassuringly familiar position.
"The other avenue I have been exploring is with Master Brian Hinks," he said conversationally and Harry, although he had expected it, sat up a little straighter in his chair. "I have been trying with the help of Aaron and Lucy to keep an eye on him, and have been visiting him in person to find out how he is growing up. I am sorry to say that he is an angry child who is quick to lose his temper and his evident magical control. If he had a wand I think he would have injured several people by now. I have tried to engage the child in conversation, yet sadly without success."
"Will I get to meet him, sir?" Harry asked quietly, knowing full well that he sounded just like a child himself. Dumbledore smiled.
"I am sure at some point a meeting should be possible, yes," he answered. "But anyway, this evening we are here to discuss the manner in which it is possible to converse with the next realm.
"You may remember that last time we met I told you that there was an incantation, a wand movement and a considerable amount of concentration?" he asked, and Harry nodded. "I also mentioned that we would require a magical object. It is on the desk in front of you."
Harry, who had not even looked at the table between them, lowered his gaze, before returning it to Dumbledore's face. "A pensieve?"
"Indeed," Dumbledore answered, turning the pensieve around to face Harry. "I designed the pensieve" [Harry gave a small jolt of surprise at Dumbledore's casual admittance that he had created the pensieve] "first of all to store my thoughts and memories but also as vessel for a form of general mind enhancement. This became part of my experiments to see if there was a way of communicating with the dead. As you know, I succeeded."
"The incantation and wand movement, while crucial, are both very simple. You raise your wand until it is pointing behind you" [Dumbledore did so] "and then flick it forward as if you were throwing something." He mimed whipping his wand forwards until it was directed at a height roughly level with Harry's head. "When the wand movement stops the incantation, "Vita mens ponsus", must be spoken clearly but quietly. The concentration lies, perhaps strangely, on a place."
"The veil room?" Harry asked, remembering about Godric heading to the veil room to talk to Dumbledore.
"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded approvingly. "You must focus on the veil room not in this world, but in the next. Your counterpart, which will always be Godric or, one day, myself, must focus on the person they are speaking to. When you are focussed enough you perform the wand movement and incantation, although this time your wand will not end up here," [he held his wand where he had last stopped] "but instead in the pensieve itself."
Dumbledore looked up at the clock. "It is time Harry. I have arranged for Godric to be ready for this moment and, today, I will just be demonstrating. You will have the opportunity to attempt it next time, as it is draining for both Godric and for myself. Are you ready?" Harry nodded and Dumbledore raised his wand. He held it firmly for a few moments, his eyes closed, the wand tip pointing at an area of the room behind him, before he swished the wand forwards and plunged it into the pensieve.
"Vita mens ponsus," he said quietly and, almost instantly, the face of Godric Gryffindor swam into view.
"Good evening Albus!" his voice echoed jovially around the headmaster's office, seemingly without a source. "And good evening Harry! I have been speaking to the group and everyone would like to send their love and best wishes."
"And from us likewise," Dumbledore answered with a smile.
"I know we haven't got long Albus," Godric said, seeming to frown in concentration, "but I've been speaking to Sirius about Andromidus. It seems that, as a teenager, Andromidus was taken from the Black household. The summer before Andromidus' fifth year he went out to Diagon Alley with the family and, after going for a moment to explore Knockturn Alley, the family could not find him again. It seems that over a year later the Black family found out that Andromidus was with Voldemort, although they had suspected as such for a long time, and that Voldemort had taken an unusual interest in the boy. It seems that Voldemort had had some sort of premonition, or as close to a gut feeling as someone like Voldemort can have, and was counting on Andromidus' heritage that he would prove to be a very strong addition to his Death Eaters."
"He wasn't wrong," Harry couldn't help himself answer, and Godric grinned in a manner that reminded Harry forcefully of the elderly headmaster stood next to him.
"Quite. Voldemort then went on to train Andromidus personally, devoting an unnatural amount of time to corrupting and educating him before using him to form the Secret Elite. As soon as this was done Andromidus informed Regalus and he too left to join the group, although, as we know, his death was faked. This is all Sirius was able to tell me."
"Thank you Godric," Dumbledore said quietly, taking this in. "Thank Sirius for me will you?" Godric nodded, before bidding them both goodbye, and his face faded from view. Dumbledore was frowning slightly, as if what had just happened had cost him a lot of effort. "Thank you for coming this evening Harry, although I fear we must stop there. I will inform you as to our next meeting." Harry, who was also still standing, nodded at his headmaster before leaving the room.