The tall, red-haired gangly form of Ron Weasley was standing in front of Harry, hand still on his shoulder.
"What are you doing?"
"How did you get in here?" Harry demanded, his tone a little harsher than it would normally have been. He was annoyed at being interrupted, at being torn away from his parents' memories.
"Your door was unlocked," shrugged Ron. "I was knocking for about five minutes, so I just let myself in."
"Oh," said Harry, very much wanting to tell Ron to get out.
"So did you find out what mad thing Snape wanted you to know?" asked Ron conversationally, Summoning a cup from Harry's cupboard and filling it with water. Harry suppressed a sigh and shrugged. "I can't believe you have Snape's memories," Ron continued. "How mad is that? You get a free pass into Snape's head. What kind of freaky stuff is in there?" Ron looked eager, though shuddered a little. Harry had told Ron and Hermione—and later the rest of the world—that Snape was innocent, no, a hero, and had been a double agent for eighteen years, but he had not told them exactly why Snape had switched sides. When asked why Dumbledore knew Snape was on his side by Hermione, Harry had evaded the question, and she did not press him.
He had no reason for not telling the whole story except that it was creepy. The fact that Snape had been hopelessly in love with Harry's deceased mother all his life bothered him. It even crossed his mind once or twice that if Snape had not called Lily a Mudblood that day in their fifth year, there was a definite possibility that Snape would have been Harry's father. The very thought made Harry cringe. Apart from that, however, Harry reminded himself, he doubted Snape would appreciate the entire wizarding world knowing that he spent his entire life pining for James Potter's wife.
"Nothing special," Harry lied. He felt instantly guilty for lying to Ron, but these memories were so personal he did not feel comfortable telling Ron what he was seeing. Even more, he did not want Ron pressing him for details. Harry had known for years that his father had been a typical, arrogant teenager, but that didn't make watching it any easier. His eleven-year-old father was a spoiled, bratty bully and reminded him unpleasantly of Draco Malfoy. The way he targeted Snape and Lily and thought so highly of himself…he was just annoying. But at the same time, he was his father. Watching his dead father, dead mother, dead godfather, and two dead, ex-professors could hardly be called uninteresting. It was riveting, and Harry couldn't get enough. He was finally getting what he had always wanted—to know his parents, and what better way than to watch their lives through their eyes?
"Oh." Ron looked let down, as though he was expecting a detailed account of Snape eating dead babies for dinner.
"Don't you have that report to finish for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes?" Harry reminded Ron, who appeared to have forgotten.
"Blimey, I do!" He put his cup on the table, looking harried, and dissapparated.
Harry turned back to the Pensieve and plunged back into his parent's memories without pretense.
Harry re-materialized on the Quidditch pitch. About twenty Gryffindor hopefuls, James among them, were standing in a clump in front of a group of four students, who Harry assumed were the returning members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
"Thanks for turning out, everyone," said a tall, dark-haired member of the Quidditch team. "As many of you know, I'm Jordana Lester, your Seeker, and this year McGonagall made me Captain, so I'll be leading tryouts today. Today we need to find two new Chasers and a Beater, so I want all the Chasers on this side by Prewett—" she gestured towards a curly-haired fourth year, "and all the Beaters over here with Reilly." She gestured towards a burly sixth year.
James joined the slightly larger group with Prewett. Jordana Lester divided them into groups of three, and had them fly up with the Quaffle and try to score.
The first three were dreadful, and one of the second three couldn't even get off the ground. James was in the third group, smirking to himself. Harry got the impression that James could fly circles around these kids.
James and his group kicked off, and he passed the Quaffle to a boy on his left, who passed it to the other girl, who dropped it. James swooped down and caught the Quaffle, speeding back up in front of the goalposts and scoring on the Keeper, who didn't register what had happened for a few seconds. Harry looked at the other hopefuls, who looked furious—none of them had scored. Jordana Lester looked impressed.
Sirius, Peter, and Remus were up in the stands. Sirius was jumping up and down, singing a song Harry strongly suspected he had made up himself:
"If you're looking for a Chaser, Potter is your guy! He is so incredible—just watch him fly! He puts the Quaffle through the hoop, and for breakfast he eats Fruit Loops, and he's really, really good so if you let him on your team will be really , really good—"
"Did you just rhyme, 'really, really good' with 'really, really good?'" asked Remus, who was watching Sirius warily as though not sure whether to call him an idiot or deny his existence entirely. "And how did you know what a Fruit Loop was?"
James started showing off—passing the Quaffle backwards, doing tricks on his broom...many of the students were impressed, but a good portion of them looked like they wanted to throw rocks at him. Harry didn't blame them—it was getting on his nerves, too.
Jordana seemed to be getting annoyed as well, for she blew her whistle and the entire team touched down. She announced that the results of Quidditch tryouts would be posted in the Common Room the next day. James nodded, smiling to himself, and met up with Sirius at the edge of the pitch. Remus and Peter were walking a hundred yards ahead of them, trying to put distance between themselves and Sirius.
"Did you see that prat, Stebbins?" Sirius laughed.
"No, what'd he do?"
"Hit Reilly in the face with his bat!" Sirius said, and James laughed along with him.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Potty and Black," said a snide voice from behind the boys. Both jumped around to see Severus Snape leering at them.
"I'd hardly talk, Snivellus," said Sirius.
"Oh, so quick to defend your boyfriend—nice love song, by the way. Really romantic—"
"At least I'm getting some," Sirius snapped back. Snape opened his mouth, but also seemed to realize that Sirius had a point, and changed tack.
"I was watching your tryout, Potter," sneered Snape. "Was that supposed to be Quidditch or synchronized swimming? The way you were twirling and diving—"
"'Twirling?' 'Diving?'" said James incredulously. "It's called being agile."
"Well, whatever it's called, it looks ridiculous."
James drew his wand, but Snape did not wince.
"What are you going to do, shoot sparks at me?" said Snape tauntingly, and James seemed to re-think this dramatic gesture. He hesitated, and Snape laughed. "Thought so. Bet you're wishing for brains now that brawn's no use—"
But Snape was forced to eat his words as James jumped on him as Sirius egged them on. There was a loud bang and the boys were blasted apart, Snape wiping a trail of blood from his nose and James rubbing his arm.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor," drawled another familiar voice. Harry recognized the pointed face and white-blonde hair instantly—fifteen-year-old Lucius Malfoy, a prefects badge gleaming on his chest, was smirking at the boys. He helped Snape to his feet. "Attacking a defenseless boy…Gryffindor bravery or stupidity, I ask you…"
"I am not defenseless!" Snape snarled, wrenching his arm from Lucius Malfoy's grip.
"That's not on!" Sirius yelled back. "Snivellus started it!"
"Sinvellus?" the corners of Lucius Malfoy's mouth twitched. "I'll take another five for that amusing nickname. Anything else you want to add?"
Harry expected James and Sirius to retort back, but they didn't seem willing to lose more points for their House, so both kept quiet.
"Come along, Severus," said Malfoy, leading Snape away.
"You'd better hope someone bigger isn't around to protect you next time!" James shouted after them. "Slytherins…they're prats, all of them," he grumbled…
The memory changed and this time, Harry appeared in the Great Hall, sitting on
the wooden bench next to Lupin, across from his father and Sirius. They were discussing the events that had occurred after the Quidditch tryout the previous evening.
"You got into a fistfight with Snape?" repeated Remus.
"Yeah, and I was winning before that prat of a prefect got in my way," James grumbled angrily, stabbing his sausages with more force than was necessary.
"There are better ways to get at Snape without punching him," said Remus.
"He started it!" James said indignantly.
"I know he did, but you can't just go around—"
"Potter!" yelled a girl.
"Here we go," sighed James, turning in his seat to face Lily, who was marching down the hall to yell at him. She poked his chest with a finger.
"I thought I told you to leave Sev alone!"
"I wish you'd leave me alone," James muttered.
"You can't go around punching people just because they make you mad—"
"He was having a go at me!" James said defensively. "The slimy git was asking for it—"
"You could have just told a teacher! But no, you had to be all tough and manly and now you've gotten points taken away! You could have hurt him!"
"Does your boyfriend know you're over here fighting his battles?" James shot back.
"I'm not fighting—he's not my boyfriend."
"Sure sounds like he is," sneered James, and Harry was pretty sure that he had won this one. His suspicion was confirmed when Sirius began shouting, "Evans and Snivellus sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! Inter-House fornication!"
"I—you—there is no fornication!" Lily snarled, and stalked off. Sirius, James, Peter, and several other onlookers were laughing. Even Remus was doing his best to hide smirk.
Just then, owls swooped down from the ceiling bearing the school's daily mail. A barn owl dropped a letter on James's eggs, and other bore a package for Peter, but it was Sirius's mail that attracted the most attention. It was a bright red envelope that was smoking slightly at the edged. Harry recognized it instantly.
"Oh, no," Sirius groaned. He picked it up to read who it was from (as if he didn't know) and it hissed ominously.
"Yep, that's a Howler," said James.
"You'd best open it now," Remus advised, "or else it'll explode."
Sirius nodded, and looking slightly green, pried open the envelope, and dropping it instantly, for fear of getting burnt.
"SIRIUS BLACK!" wailed an all-too familiar voice. Harry winced along with Sirius as the entire student body jumped, and then hall went silent, staring at the Gryffindor table. Mrs. Black's voice was not one Harry had heard in three years, but the memory came back vividly as though it were yesterday. "YOU FILTHY, BLOOD-TRAITING, USELESS EXCUSE FOR A SON! HOW DARE YOU GET YOURSELF SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR! BREAK YOUR MOTHER'S HEART ALL OVER AGAIN! YOU WILL DO ANYTHING TO DEFY ME, WON'T YOU, YOU REVOLTING BOY! AND IF YOU THINK I'M ANGRY, YOU SHOULD HEAR YOUR FATHER, HE'S ABSOLUTELY LIVID. HE HAS BEEN COMPLETELY HUMILIATED, THE LAUGHING STOCK OF THE PUREBLOOD WIZARDING COMMUNITY! I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY! EVERY BLACK FOR SEVEN GENERATIONS HAS BEEN IN SLYTHERIN, BUT SLYTHERIN ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU , NOW IS IT? BELLATRIX IS IN SLYTHERIN! NARCISSA IS IN SLYTHERIN! WE WOULD NEVER EXPECT THIS OF REGULUS, BUT YOU? WELL, LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING, SIRIUS, DON'T EVEN THINK THAT YOU'RE COMING HOME FOR THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS!"
The letter crumbled into ashes, and the Great Hall was silent. Harry looked at Sirius, who was red-faced and shaking in anger. Peter had taken refuge from the Howler under the table and was just re-emerging, a bit of porridge in his hair. Lupin and James looked at each other, at a loss of what to say and avoiding Sirius's gaze.
"Well, it's over, now, isn't it?" said Sirius loudly. "So you can all stop staring at me and get on with your breakfast!"
And without another word, Sirius stalked out of the Great Hall, followed by whispers among the other House tables. Harry heard an all-too familiar shriek from the Slytherin table, and looked over to see a fourteen-year-old Bellatrix Lestrange, who had apparently found this Howler hilarious.
Noise level turned to normal in the Great Hall, but Remus, James, and Peter remained silent, staring at the food on their plates.
A/N: Hey, guys, this is up early again! Wow, all your reviews have been sooooooo nice. They definitely make my day. Keep it up . Sorry the cliffhanger wasn't quite so dramatic…but whatever, I hope this chapter made up for it!
-Dem