"Professor," Harry gasped, "I know I shouldn't've — I didn't mean — the cabinet door was sort of open and —"
"I quite understand," said Dumbledore. He lifted the Pensieve, carried it over to his desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for Harry to sit down opposite him. Harry did so, staring at the stone basin. The contents had returned to their original, silvery-white state, swirling and rippling beneath his gaze.
Skylar stayed standing, unsure whether she was about to be asked to leave this now private meeting but Dumbledore pulled out his wand and another chair appeared with a wave of it beside Harry's.
"Please Skylar," he gestured for her to sit.
"Oh, I really was just coming with Harry to support, I don't want to intrude or–" Dumbledore silenced her with a smile and directed her to the chair again. She sat.
"I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind." Dumbledore began as an explanation.
"Er," said Harry, who couldn't truthfully say that he had ever felt anything of the sort.
"At these times," said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. One simply syphons 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."
"May we ask what you were looking for with these memories?" Skylar asked tentatively.
Dumbledore drew his wand out of the inside of his robes and placed the tip into his own silvery hair, near his temple. When he took the wand away, hair seemed to be clinging to it — but then there was in fact a glistening strand of memory attached. Dumbledore added this fresh thought to the basin, and Harry's own face swimming around the surface of the bowl. Dumbledore placed his long hands on either side of the Pensieve and swirled it, and Harry's own face changed smoothly into Snape's, who opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, his voice echoing slightly.
"It's coming back… Karkaroff's too… stronger and clearer than ever…"
"A connection I could have made without assistance," Dumbledore sighed, "but never mind." He peered over the top of his half moon spectacles at Harry, who was gaping at Snape's face, which was continuing to swirl 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 your attention."
"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled and Skylar nodded.
Dumbledore shook his head. "Curiosity is not a sin," he said. "But we should exercise caution with our curiosity… yes, indeed…"
Frowning slightly, he prodded the thoughts within the basin with the tip of his wand. Instantly, a figure rose out of it, a plump, scowling girl of about sixteen, who began to revolve slowly, with her feet still in the basin. She took no notice whatsoever of Skylar or Harry or Professor Dumbledore. When she spoke, her voice echoed as Snape's had done, as though it were coming from the depths of the stone basin. "He put a hex on me, Professor Dumbledore, and I was only teasing him, sir. I only said I'd seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday…"
"But why, Bertha," said Dumbledore sadly, looking up at the now silently revolving girl, "why did you have to follow him in the first place?"
"Bertha?" Harry whispered, looking up at her. "Is that — was that–"
"Bertha Jorkins." Skylar finished for him.
"Yes," said Dumbledore, prodding the thoughts in the basin again; Bertha sank back into them, and they became silvery and opaque once more. "That was Bertha as I remember her at school."
The silvery light from the Pensieve illuminated Dumbledore's face, and he looked older than Skylar had ever seen him. What was troubling him had him vexed to the point of tiredness.
"So, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly. "Before you got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something."
"Yes," said Harry. "Professor — I was in Divination just now, and — er — I fell asleep."
He hesitated here, wondering if a reprimand was coming, but Dumbledore merely said, "Quite understandable. Continue."
Skylar sat quietly.
"Well, I had a dream," said Harry. "A dream about Lord Voldemort. He was torturing Wormtail… you know who Wormtail —"
"I do know," said Dumbledore promptly. "Please continue."
"Voldemort got a letter from an owl. He said something like, Wormtail's blunder had been repaired. He said someone was dead. Then he said, Wormtail wouldn't be fed to the snake — there was a snake beside his chair. He said — he said he'd be feeding me to it, instead. Then he did the Cruciatus Curse on Wormtail — and my scar hurt," Harry said. "It woke me up, it hurt so badly."
Dumbledore merely looked at him.
"Er — that's all," said Harry.
"I see," said Dumbledore quietly. "I see. Now, has your scar hurt at any other time this year, excepting the time it woke you up over the summer?"
"No, I — how did you know it woke me up over the summer?" said Harry, astonished.
"You are not Sirius's only correspondent," said Dumbledore. "I have also been in contact with him ever since he left Hogwarts last year. It was I who suggested the mountainside cave as the safest place for him to stay."
Dumbledore got up and began walking up and down behind his desk. Every now and then, he placed his wand tip to his temple, removed another shining silver thought, and added it to the Pensieve. The thoughts inside began to swirl so fast that Harry couldn't make out anything clearly: It was merely a blur of colour. Harry glanced at Skylar but she was merely frowning up at the professor, worried about what had him worried about Harry's dream.
"Professor?" he said quietly, after a couple of minutes.
Dumbledore stopped pacing and looked at Harry. "My apologies," he said quietly. He sat back down at his desk.
"D'you — d'you know why my scar's hurting me?"
Dumbledore looked very intently at Harry for a moment, and then said, "I have a theory, no more than that… It is my belief that your scar hurts both when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong surge of hatred."
Skylar gaped and then looked immensely worried.
"But… why?"
"Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed," said Dumbledore. "That is no ordinary scar."
"But, that's not… I mean it's not good, is it?" Skylar said, unsure she should interrupt such a conversation.
"So you think… that dream… did it really happen?"
"It is possible," said Dumbledore. "I would say — probable. Harry — did you see Voldemort?"
"No," said Harry. "Just the back of his chair. But — there wouldn't have been anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn't got a body, has he? But… but then how could he have held the wand?" Harry said slowly.
"How indeed?" muttered Dumbledore. "How indeed…"
"So, Harry is seeing into the mind of You-Know-Who from afar…?" Skylar clarified and Dumbledore nodded. She pursed her lips and confusion littered her face. How was that possible? It sounded like a form of legilimency but that needed proximity to work.
Neither Dumbledore nor Harry nor Skylar spoke for a while. Dumbledore was gazing across the room, and, every now and then, placing his wand tip to his temple and adding another shining silver thought to the seething mass within the Pensieve.
"Professor," Harry said at last, "do you think he's getting stronger?"
"Voldemort?" said Dumbledore, looking at Harry over the Pensieve. It was the characteristic, piercing look Dumbledore had given him on other occasions. It was a look that told Skylar Dumbledore did know something, but perhaps didn't want to tell them. "Once again, Harry, I can only give you my suspicions."
Dumbledore sighed again, and he looked older, and wearier, than ever.
"The years of Voldemort's ascent to power," he said, "were marked with disappearances. Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace in the place where Voldemort was certainly known to be last. Mr. Crouch too has disappeared… within these very grounds. And there was a third disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to say, do not consider of any importance, for it concerns a Muggle. His name was Frank Bryce, he lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up, and he has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspapers, unlike most of my Ministry friends."
Dumbledore looked very seriously at Harry.
"These disappearances seem to me to be linked. The Ministry disagrees — as you may have heard, while waiting outside my office."
Harry nodded. Silence fell between them again, Dumbledore extracting thoughts every now and then. Harry glanced at Skylar, he believed they should maybe leave, but a question in his mind held him in his chair. Hearing it Skylar nodded her head towards Dumbledore in encouragement.
"Professor?" he said again.
"Yes, Harry?" said Dumbledore.
"Er… could I ask you about… that court thing I was in… in the Pensieve?"
"You could," said Dumbledore heavily. "I attended it many times, but some trials come back to me more clearly than others… particularly now…"
"You know — you know the trial you found me in? The one with Crouch's son? Well… were they talking about Neville's parents?"
Dumbledore gave Harry a very sharp look. "Has Neville never told you why he has been brought up by his grandmother?" he said.
Harry shook his head, wondering, as he did so, how he could have failed to ask Neville this, in almost four years of knowing him.
Dumbledore looked at Skylar and she shook her head, she had never told anyone the reason and Harry looked at her too. Dumbledore recaptured Harry's attention.
"Yes, they were talking about Neville's parents," said Dumbledore. "His father, Frank, was an Auror just like Professor Moody. He and his wife were tortured for information about Voldemort's whereabouts after he lost his powers, as you heard."
"So they're dead?" said Harry quietly.
"No," said Dumbledore, his voice full of a bitterness Harry had never heard there before. "They are insane. They are both in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe Neville visits them, with his grandmother, during the holidays. They do not recognize him."
Harry sat there, horror-struck. He had never known… never, in four years, bothered to find out… He turned to Skylar but she was looking at her lap.
"The Longbottoms were very popular," said Dumbledore. "The attacks on them came after Voldemort's fall from power, just when everyone thought they were safe. Those attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known. The Ministry was under great pressure to catch those who had done it. Unfortunately, the Longbottoms' evidence was — given their condition — none too reliable."
"Then Mr. Crouch's son might not have been involved?" said Harry slowly.
Dumbledore shook his head. "As to that, I have no idea."
Harry sat in silence once more, watching the contents of the Pensieve swirl.
"Er," he said, "Mr. Bagman…"
"... has never been accused of any Dark activity since," said Dumbledore calmly.
"Right," said Harry hastily, staring at the contents of the Pensieve again, which were swirling more slowly now that Dumbledore had stopped adding thoughts. "And… er…"
But the Pensieve seemed to be asking his question for him.
Snape's face was swimming on the surface again. Dumbledore glanced down into it, and then up at Harry.
"No more has Professor Snape," he said.
Harry looked into Dumbledore's light blue eyes, and the thing he really wanted to know spilled out of his mouth before he could stop it.
"What made you think he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?"
Dumbledore held Harry's gaze for a few seconds, and then said, "That, Harry, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself."
Dumbledore did not look angry, yet there was a finality in his tone that said it was time to go. Skylar stood up first and Harry followed. So did Dumbledore.
"Harry," he said as Harry reached the door. "Please do not speak about Neville's parents to anybody else. He has the right to let people know, when he is ready."
"Yes, Professor," said Harry, turning to go.
"And —"
Harry looked back. Dumbledore was standing over the Pensieve, his face lit from beneath by its silvery spots of light, looking older than ever. He stared at Harry for a moment, and then said, "Good luck with the third task."
The two of them left the office.
"You knew about Neville's parents?" Harry muttered quietly as they walked.
"Yes." Skylar frowned.
"So those times we mentioned it and you asked us to drop it."
"Yeah, that's why, it wasn't really my thing to spill like gossip. Neville's parents had their minds broken by the extent of the curse inflicted on them. It's not a nice thing to spread around."
Harry couldn't disagree.
"We don't tell Ron and Hermione even." Skylar added.
Harry again, didn't disagree.
"Let's go to the Owlery." Harry said. He wanted to send Sirius an owl explaining all he had just experienced, from his dream to the Pensieve. Skylar nodded and followed his lead. She was quiet as Harry wrote his letter, folded it up, addressed it, chose an owl, and then walked the owl to the window.
"What are you thinking?" Harry asked as he watched the owl go.
"That Crouch said You-Know-Who was getting stronger, Dumbledore seems to agree and if you saw him holding a wand, given what he was the last time we ran into him, in our first year, then they must be right." Skylar's voice was low. "Also that Dumbledore should have been madder at us for invading his memories like that…" she frowned and looked at Harry who held her gaze, his expression falling at the sight of hers. "And the fact you can see into his mind."
"You see into people's minds?" Harry defended.
"First, I see into everyone's mind that isn't blocked, second, it's the people around me. I can't hear Hagrid down in his cabin, it's too far away. You are seeing into the mind of the worst wizard that ever existed when you're miles and miles away. And You-Know-Who was apparently a great legilimens, it was one of the ways he tortured his victims apparently."
"So it's not a legilimens thing?"
"Not that I know of, and if it is then you somehow have a direct link to him, like an invisible string from your mind to his."
Harry turned away.
"I just don't understand that… and how did a curse create it?" Skylar continued, more to herself than anyone else. "And if your dream really did happen, then the one you had in the summer, where they were plotting your murder, and the one now where You-Know-Who says he'll feed you to a snake… How is he so certain? If he's sent people after you here at the tournament, you're surviving, almost winning, yet today he was still certain…" she shivered. "That's scary, what's the plan and why is he so confident?"
Harry obviously didn't have an answer but Skylar's worry was making him more worried. She paused as she looked at him, hearing this and frowned.
"I'm sorry. Maybe they're just optimistic." she shrugged. He gave her a look that made her chuckle slightly. She sighed, "We should go and find Ron and Hermione." Harry agreed.
Ron and Hermione weren't acting much different to Skylar for a change.
"Dumbledore reckons You-Know-Who's getting stronger again as well?" Ron whispered.
Everything Harry had seen in the Pensieve, nearly everything Dumbledore had told and shown him afterward, he had now shared with Ron and Hermione. Harry, Skylar, Ron, and Hermione sat up late in the common room once again that night, talking it all over.
Ron stared into the common room fire. He shivered slightly, even though the evening was warm.
"And he trusts Snape?" Ron said. "He really trusts Snape, even though he knows he was a Death Eater?"
"Yes," said Harry.
Hermione had not spoken for ten minutes. She was sitting with her forehead in her hands, staring at her knees.
"Rita Skeeter," she muttered finally.
"How can you be worrying about her now?" said Ron, in utter disbelief.
"I'm not worrying about her," Hermione said to her knees. "I'm just thinking… Remember what she said to me in the Three Broomsticks? 'I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl.' This is what she meant, isn't it? She reported his trial, she knew he'd passed information to the Death Eaters. And Winky too, remember… 'Ludo Bagman's a bad wizard.' Mr. Crouch would have been furious he got off, he would have talked about it at home."
"Yeah, but Bagman didn't pass information on purpose, did he?"
Hermione shrugged.
"And Fudge reckons Madame Maxime attacked Crouch?" Ron said, turning back to Harry.
"Yeah," said Harry, "but he's only saying that because Crouch disappeared near the Beauxbatons carriage."
"We never thought of her, did we?" said Ron slowly. "Mind you, she's definitely got giant blood, and she doesn't want to admit it —"
"Of course she doesn't," said Hermione sharply, looking up. "Look what happened to Hagrid when Rita found out about his mother. Look at Fudge, jumping to conclusions about her, just because she's part giant. Who needs that sort of prejudice? I'd probably say I had big bones if I knew that's what I'd get for telling the truth."
Hermione looked at her watch. "We haven't done any practising!" she said, looking shocked. "We were going to do the Impediment Curse! We'll have to really get down to it tomorrow! Come on, Harry, you need to get some sleep.
Harry and Ron went slowly upstairs to their dormitory and Skylar and Hermione to theirs.