Hidden Memories

Chapter 9

Harry rushed out of Gringotts with the ebony box. He'd close the vault account later. There was no reason to keep the account open but he had more important things to deal with, first. Harry headed north down Diagon Alley. There was only one shop that he could think of that might sell what he required. It occurred to him belatedly that he might should have withdrawn some gold from his vault. He had no idea just how much a pensieve cost but he had the feeling that it definitely wouldn't come cheap.

A chubby little wizard, a full head shorter than Harry, swept the front step to Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment. "Top O' the mornin'" he smiled his half-toothless grin at Harry.

"Morning, Sir." Harry nodded politely and ducked into the shop.

Scales were featured as the sale of the week but Harry paid them little mind. He moved past the display, looking for the aisle that might contain pensieves. He saw an endcap of Rememberalls and decided that would be the best aisle to try.

Harry found all sorts of memory inducing devices but no pensieve. He turned around hoping the theme would continued on the other side Sadly, all he found were various types of glasses and binoculars. A pair curiously similar to the ones that sat on Snape's mantle sat on the shelf just out of his reach. He stood on his tippy toes trying to get a hold on them.

"Ahemmm, can I help you?" A rather thin, tall woman asked him disapprovingly.

Harry jerked his hand back. "Sorry, I should've asked for assistance."

"Do you require a pair of Memoculars?"

"Memoculars?"

"Well, that is what you are trying to reach, isn't it?" It was then that she recognized just who the annoying customer was. Her eyes popped wide and her manner changed. "Why you're Harry Potter. Here let me help you with those," She grabbed hold of the ladder that slid along the shelves and moved it toward the memoculars. "You're in luck, we are having a discount on memoculars this week," She climbed the ladder, taking quick steps. "Here you go."

Harry took the memoculars then held them to his eyes. They were all dark inside, just like the ones from Snapes mantle. Harry reached for his want.

"Uh-huh, sorry, not even for the great Harry Potter."

Harry's brow etched with confusion.

"Didn't you see the sign, young man? No wand work allowed in the store."

"Oh," Harry answered.

"Besides, there's nothing to see yet. You haven't recorded anything, nor has anyone, those are brand spanking new."

"I see," Harry answered but realized what he would likely find in Snape's memoculars. More images of his mother, no doubt. "Actually, I didn't come here for memoculars."

"No?"

"No," Harry smiled.

"Well, how about a pair of magnoculars?" She moved toward a pair of the glasses at Harry's right. "They magnify up to 200 times. Or a pair of x-ray glasses, see through just about anything? I know what you needed Encycloglasses, gives you an optical read-out of anything you're looking at."

Harry shook his head.

"Well then, how about some spectercles, not a ghost in the world that can stay hidden from a pair of those."

"Thank you but I came for a pensieve."

"Oh, you came for a pensieve did you? He came for a pensieve," the witch called out for the whole shop to here as it were some grand joke.

The short, chubby wizard who'd been sweeping, laughed, "Came for a pensieve did he?"

Harry looked back and forth between the two of them. He wasn't quite sure what was so strange about the request.

The tall witch leaned in and whispered, "Is You-Know-Who back?"

"What?" Harry jerked away from her. "No, why would you say that?"

"Well, you obviously want to hide some memories."

"It has nothing to do with Voldemort," Harry answered.

The witch flinched. She wasn't used to hearing Voldemort's name used so casually. She looked at the box tucked under Harry's arm.

"Oh, I see. You've stumbled upon some memories, have you?"

Harry was getting very annoyed.

"Nasty stuff that, messing in other people's pasts. Best left in the past, the past is."

Harry wasn't sure he didn't quite agree with her but if he wanted to know his mum, what other choice did he have? "Inheritance," Harry answered hoping she'd understand that he had a right to the memories.

"Either way! You won't likely find a pensieve here, on Diagon Alley. Maybe Knockturn Alley or somewhere specializing in the Dark Arts or Defense Against. . ."

"Thank you, then. I'll just be on my way." Harry felt rude when he moved past her but frankly, he didn't care.

"Are you sure I can't interest you in some spectercals or a new set of scales?" She called as the bell above the door rang signaling his exit.

When Harry reached the turn for Knockturn Alley, he paused. He couldn't believe for the life of him what he was about to do. Never in a thousand suns did he think that he would be returning to Borgin and Burkes, especially as a customer.

No sooner had he turned down the crooked street than he felt a weight on him as if he were wearing a heavy cloak. The sun seemed to have slipped behind the clouds and instead of looking like early morning, the alley was lit as if it were dusk and the temperature dropped suddenly. The air around him felt as cold as the stone walls looked. Even the ivy that grew along the cracks and crevices was black. Harry held the ebony box of memories tighter.

The signboard for Borgin and Burkes flapped as the wind picked up.

Potter, what are you doing? The Snape voice returned. Harry stopped and looked around. He was alone except for a drunkard who hobbled his way down the street. Harry peered at him closely. Maybe he'd spoken to him. "Excuse me," Harry called to the man.

"Spare a knut?"

Harry pulled a bronze coin from his pocket and handed it to the man.

"So generous," the man rasped sarcastically.

Ingrate, the Snape voice sneered and the man fell forward as if he'd been tripped.

Harry looked to see what the man might have fallen over. He didn't seen anything. He played it off as the man being drunk. Because the only other option was giving him the creeps. Surely, Snape wasn't there with him. He'd seen him die, Snape had died in his arms. And, Harry didn't want to think about Snape's ghost haunting him. Besides, ghosts in the wizarding world were visible, weren't they?"

Harry decided it was just the dark alley and it's reputation that were giving him the creeps. If Snape were haunting him, which he wouldn't put past the professor, he'd show himself, just to scare the crap out him, if nothing else.

Harry held tighter to the box and made his way onward to Borgin and Burkes.

There was no light on in the store and with no sunlight pouring in through the windows, the store was very near pitch dark. Harry heard someone or something rustling in the back corner of the store. "Hello," he called.

No one answered.

He tried again, "Hello, I said. Is anyone there?"

Just go to Hogwarts, Potter," the slow deep drawl suggested.

"Will you kindly shut up?" Harry called to the thin air.

"Well, is that anyway to talk?" A grizzled old shopkeeper asked.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't speaking to you. Where's Borgin?"

The shopkeeper looked around. There was no one else about. He raised one eyebrow curiously at Harry. "I am the senior Mr. Borgin. What brings you into the store, today, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, I was wondering, where I would go about finding a pensieve. You don't happen to have one for sale, do you?"

The old man looked Harry over good. His eyes landed on the box. His long spindly finger went to his lips in delight. After a beat, he reached for the box.

Instinctively, Harry pulled the box away.

"Secrets. Hidden in the dark from the greatest Darkness. Where did you find them?"

"What do you know about secrets?"

"Lily." The man pointed to the flower carved into the ebony..

Harry shifted the box as if protecting his mother from the old wizard's sight. Harry got the distinct impression that the man had been a Death Eater. "Do you have a pensive, Mr. Borgin?"

"No, Mr. Potter. They are very hard to come by, for a good reason. I believe Dumbledore had one."

A fat lot of good that information did him. Harry knew there was the one at Hogwarts. He was hoping for one that would offer him a little more privacy. "Well, thank you for your time."

"I made that box you know. Powerful magic. I'm curious how you were able to open it."

"What makes you so sure I have?" Harry's eyes burned with defiance.

"You're looking for a pensieve, Mr. Potter. That can't be a coincidence."

Harry now had a question of his own. "How did you know what the box contained? The owner could've put anything in the box."

"The Half-Blood Prince had only one thing to hide from the Dark Lord."

Enough.

Harry looked over his shoulder. Snape was still not there. He looked back to Old Man Borgin. "Why did you help him hide his memories?"

"I suppose I was somewhat a romantic, myself. I was also a Slytherin who harbored feelings for another Gryffindor witch. I sympathized with Severus. Doesn't really matter though, does it. He couldn't save her in the end. Poor, pitiful Severus, he was always out of his league, with Voldemort and with Lily. He wasn't dark enough for him and he was too dark for her. Not man enough for either of them.

Harry and the senior Borgin jumped as a shelf full of merchandise collapsed onto the floor, breaking and shattering glass everywhere. The windows rattled and a wind roared through the shop. Then suddenly the cold was gone. Sun filtered in through the windows, reflecting on the broken shards and scattering light throughout the shop.