Letters and Memories

A/N: hey guys sorry bout the wait... my beta went back to school so she can't send me the chapters back as fast as she could , so i asked my baby to do it for me. I didn't like this chapter at all but hell the story must go on. Hope you like it, let me know either or.
~~~~~NOT MINE~~~~~


BACK TO SCHOOL

For the four of them, the next five days could not have gone by fast enough. And maybe for that reason it dragged – Merlin, how it dragged. They were very anxious, and no matter what they did, the day just wouldn’t come fast enough.

On the first of August, Bill was released from St. Mungos; he wasn’t completely recovered, but the healers had already done all they could do for him, and now only time would tell how full his recovery would be. The wedding was still on, and Mrs. Weasley and Fleur were very busy splitting themselves between the wedding preparations and taking care of Bill.

After a long dinner where the whole family came together to celebrate Bill’s return, they parted ways; Fred and George went back to their shop and the rest went to bed. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were to leave at noon to Hogsmeade. As expected they were up early – sleep had been scarce since they came back to the Burrow. Ginny made them some tea and they sat around the fireplace.

Mrs. Weasley came down and made them some breakfast, Mr. Weasley left for work, and Fred and George ‘popped’ in for some small talk, but everyone knew they came for breakfast. Before they knew it, it was time to leave.

“Off you go, then,” said Mrs. Weasley.

“We’ll send an owl as soon as we know something,” Hermione promised.

“Yeah, Mum, we’ll let you know,” added Ginny.

“Oh, do take care,” pleaded Mrs. Weasley.

“We’ll be fine, Mum, after all, we’ll be at Hogwarts,” said Ron.

“Oh Ron…” was all she managed, hugging him and the rest goodbye.

They each stepped into the empty fireplace with Floo powder and said, “Honeydukes!” Once they had all arrived in the sweetshop fire, they walked the rest of the way to the castle.

When they got to the gates Hagrid was there waiting for them.

“G’morning,” said Hagrid, opening one of the wrought iron gates open for the group.

“Morning, Hagrid, we’re here to see Professor McGonagall,” said Hermione, stepping through the now open gates.

“I know, the ‘eadmistress told me you lot were coming today,” said Hagrid, still looking very sad.

“Thank you, Hagrid, we can find our way from here,” said Harry. His voice sounded slightly angry; however, this was untrue, as he knew that if Hagrid broke down and started crying, he would, too.

“It’s nothin’, ‘arry, just doing me job.”

When Hagrid walked away, Hermione rounded on him.

“That was so rude of you, Harry, what were you thinking? Don’t you see he’s already sad?”

“Okay, I’m sorry – bloody hell, we’ll go see him after we sort this out.”

Luckily for them, the password to the headmistress’s office remained the same.

“Hello? Professor?” called Ginny.

A minute later Professor McGonagall came through a door beside the bookcase, which presumably led to her private quarters.

“Good morning,” she said, “back so soon?” She looked at them with a knowing glance.

“Yeah, we’ve got it,” said Harry.

“Got what, Mr. Potter?” she asked.

“We got what was inside vault Seven,” said Hermione.

“We think they’re memories, but we aren’t sure,” said Harry opening the chest and pulling out one of the flasks and handed it to her.

“You think right, Mr. Potter,” she told him. “And I think that you may need this,” she added, moving towards Dumbledore’s pensieve.

“Thank you, Professor,” said Harry.

“Oh and before you get started, these belong to you,” she said, handing them their school letter.

“But…” was all Ginny could say, looking down at her Hogwarts letter.

“They’re letting us come back?” asked Ron.

“Well, the school will reopen, yes, the only problem will be convincing the parents to allow their kids to return.” Harry heard a definite note of hopefulness in her voice.

“The seventh years are old enough to make their own decisions,” pointed out Ron.

“Yes, Ron, but the rest aren’t,” said Hermione simply.

“But we aren’t safer at home, and plus, if we are attacked here there would be all the students here, as well as the teachers,” said Ginny.

“Try convincing the parents of that. But the letters have been sent. The train will leave the same time as every other year and the terms will start on the first of September,” she explained.

“I’m Head Girl!” gasped Hermione.

“Well, who else, silly?” laughed Ginny giving her a hug.

“Oh, thank you, Professor…” she paused. “But who’s Head Boy?” she asked trying to figure out who had the best grades in the male population of seventh year students. She knew of only one –Draco Malfoy- but certainly they wouldn’t allow him back in school, after all that had happened.

“Hopefully you’ll meet him on the train back here, assuming you all will be coming back to school.”

“We know we will,” said Ginny followed by the rest nodding in agreement.

“Well I have to go in to the Ministry for final arrangements of security. Mr. Potter, I assume you know how to use the pensieve,” when Harry nodded she pressed on “Good. I shall be back before dinner. You may use your old dormitories while you stay here. Until then.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Harry.

“You’re very welcome.” And she left them.

Harry took the chest, placed it on top of the desk, and moved to stand in front of Dumbledore’s portrait.

“Professor,” called Harry.

“Ah, Harry. I see you’ve been to see my friends at Gringotts.” The painted eyes of the old headmaster twinkled merrily.

“Um… Yeah… Only problem is, I don’t know how to return to reality.”

“A small oversight, my never teaching you how to leave a memory, yet quite important. For such a remarkable device, the method is remarkably simple,” he chuckled. “Just will yourselves back.”

“That’s all? I just have to want to leave and it will happen?”

“Yes, indeed, as simple as that. As I said, a small but very important oversight. Go on, now, there’s much to learn.”

“Um… sir?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Which one should we see first?”

“The four of you should go first and Miss Granger should go last. Beyond these general guidelines, the order you four receive the memories does not matter overmuch.”

“And um… one more thing.”

“Harry, Harry, your memory awaits you. If you must ask yet another question, you must promise that it shall be the last,” said Dumbledore, smiling.

“Alright then, sir, I promise.”

“Very well, then, ask your question.”

“Are we allowed to talk about it with each other?”

“If you wish to do so. But I am sure some things that each of you see, you will like to keep to yourselves, while with others you will find the need to share. I suggest you take a look at yourselves,” he said addressing all four of them now, “before you dive in my memories and the memory of a certain someone, for from then on your opinion shall be changed.” And with those parting words, the former Headmaster stood and walked out of his painting, leaving a simple swath of black canvas behind him.

“Who?” Harry asked, but the portrait was now empty.

“Well, shall we go then, Harry?” asked Hermione.

“I suppose so,” he said. Moving towards the desk he took out the flask labeled for the four of them. He walked to the pensieve and waited for the others to join him; when they did, he uncorked the flask and poured it into the basin.

“Ready?” Harry asked, looking around him.

“As ever,” said Ginny.

“Okay, all we have to do is look into the pensieve, and when we have to come back, just think about being back here and will yourselves to do so.” He took hold of Ginny’s and Ron’s hand, who took Hermione’s, and she took Ginny’s hand. They bent over and plunged their faces into the pensieve, and soon they were in Dumbledore’s office.

“Why didn’t it work?” Ron asked.

Harry looked around the room and something about it just wasn’t right.

“Harry…” called Ginny. “Harry… look” She pointed to Dumbledore’s chair.

They were looking at the back of the chair and all they could see was the tip of Dumbledore’s hat.

“Come around.” Harry pulled Ginny with him and the other two followed.

Dumbledore was reading something. When they walked around to see him he looked right at them.

“Can he see us?” asked Hermione.

“No, he can’t, we’re in his memory,” Harry started to explain but fell silent at the sound of Dumbledore’s voice.

“Come in, Mr. Malfoy.”

“How does - well, did - he always know?” asked Ron as Draco Malfoy walked in.

“It’s nice to see you here. How are you, Draco?”

“I need to speak with you.”

“That much I gathered,” he said with a big twinkle in his eyes. “Have a seat please.”

Draco took a seat but for a while said nothing. After a few moments Dumbledore. anxious to hear what he had to say, decided to speak first.

“So you need to speak with me?” But Draco only nodded. “what about?”

Once again Draco remained silent. Dumbledore was now getting a little frustrated at his silence, and just when Dumbledore was about to break the silence Draco blew up.

“I can’t!” he screamed

“Mr. Malfoy, do not raise your voice, please.”

“You don’t understand a bloody thing, do you? And they call you the best wizard of your time.”

“Draco, would you care to tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m sick of it all! I can’t live this way anymore.”

“Let me see if I’m understanding this right. Are you saying that you want to switch sides?”

“No, that’s what you said.”

Dumbledore smiled at him brightly.

“Look, I don’t want to be like my father, I hate him, I can’t follow his path. I’m sick of being a farce, I no longer want to be the one to fulfill that stupid prophecy.”

“And what brought this on?”

“I just told you. I’m sick of it all. I mean, all I believed to be true throughout my whole life, is just rubbish. Why should blood determine who you are in life? Growing up, Father taught me to be better, and to bow to no one, and now he wants me to kiss the feet of that… that disgusting piece of filth, who thinks he can mold the world to his liking. No. I can’t go through with this anymore. I need to have a purpose in life.”

“So what can I do to help you?”

“I want out.”

“Out of what?”

“I don’t want to follow my father’s footsteps. I don’t want to be the right hand man of any ‘Dark Lord.’ I just want him to die so I can make my own destiny.”

“This is very good news, Draco, very good news indeed.”

Dumbledore stood up and walked over to the fireplace, and called for Severus Snape to come through. Meanwhile the four students watching this were dumbfounded. None could form any kind of word, and so they kept on watching as Snape came through the fireplace.

“Why did you call him here? Now I’m a dead man.”

“Calm down, Draco.”

“Draco, Snape is one of his spies.”

“He’s a spy alright, just not yours,” Draco mumbled under his breath.

“Albus, why did you call me here?”

“Because, my dear Severus, Draco here says he wants out.”

For a moment, Harry was able to enjoy being witness to one of the few times in the Potion Master’s life when he was truly struck speechless.

“He can’t!” bellowed Snape. “Headmaster, they will find him and kill him faster than you could blink. There’s no way the Order can’t keep him safe.”

“And that is why I called you.”

“What can I do?”

“Well, maybe you know of a way for him to get out and live.”

“If he lets them know, the Death Eaters will torture him and later kill him.”

There was a long pause where neither said a word, when finally Dumbledore startled them all.

“Of course. Why didn’t I think of it before?”

“Hello…” interrupted Draco. “Do you mind? Stop talking about me as if I’m not even here.”

“Draco, how would you like to become our youngest spy?” The headmaster turned to the only young man in his office that everyone could see.

“NO!” bellowed Snape and Harry together.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Draco, do you have any idea of what you are getting yourself into?” asked Snape, frustrated at the fact that Dumbledore would even suggest this.

“Yes sir. I’ll be of age soon, and I don’t want to fulfill that prophecy any longer.”

“But Draco, what of your family?”

“What about them? It’s not like they ever cared.” He paused and sighed. “Uncle Sev, get out of my mind.”

“How did you know I was looking in your mind?”

“Uncle Sev, are you forgetting who my father is?” Now Draco had made known where Snape stood. It made him feel a lot more relaxed.

“Right.”

At this Dumbledore cleared his throat to get their attention.

“Draco, do you really know all your father knows?”

“Most likely not, sir. For an intelligent wizard never teaches the ones beneath him all he knows for fear of retaliation. But I’m sure I know a lot of what he knows.”

“See, Severus, he can be of great help to the light.”

“Fine,” Snape said throwing his hands in the air in a manner of defeat, after all there was no changing the old man’s mind once he decided something. He stepped over to the fireplace to get back to his office. “His blood is in your hands,” he said to Dumbledore before he was engulfed by green flames.

“Excuse me, sir, but do you really trust him?”

“I trust Severus with my life.”

“You are a fool, after all.”

“Maybe so, Mr. Malfoy, for now breathe a word of this conversation to no one.”

“Yeah, like I’d risk my own life.”

“Oh, but you’ve already done that. You may go now.”

“I know, don’t remind me.”

“Before you go, Mr. Malfoy, I’d like to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“What’s the real reason for your change of heart?”

“Um… I already told you, sir.”

“You told me what you wanted me to know, but we both know that that was not the whole truth.”

“Well, umm…. I umm…”

“It wouldn’t, by any chance, have anything to do with a certain muggle-born witch that we both know, now would it?”

“Me? Muggle-Born? Never.” But the fact that there was no conviction in his voice made Dumbledore seem very pleased, while Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Ron really confused.

“If you say so. Good day, Mr. Malfoy.”

“What makes you think that there is someone?”

“No reason in particular. But you said there is no such person, so no worries. Is there anything else?”

“Yes sir. Do I have to get a ‘light mark’?”

“In time, Mr. Malfoy, in time.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Time to go,” Harry said, taking Ginny’s and Hermione’s hand. Ron joined them and soon they were back in reality.

"Okay, call me slow, I know you will, but what the bloody hell was that?" asked Ron.

"Well one thing is certain, Malfoy was a spy for the Order but I don't understand, what prophecy were they talking about? That, I knew nothing of," sighed Harry.

"Okay, well, obviously there had to be more to that than what we saw because I am totally lost. Harry, perhaps we left before it was done, I mean, we must have missed something...” said Ginny.

"No, it was over, I could just feel it, maybe the other memories will help us get to the end of this,” said Harry.

"What I don't understand is why the memories aren't for us all. After all, we are allowed to talk about them," asked Hermione.

"I was just wondering the same thing, and I guess it could be because... oh bugger." Ron stopped, clearly lost for words, for not even he knew why they had these separate memories to look into.

"Well, we know that at that time Dumbledore still trusted Snape, and that he allowed Malfoy to become a spy for the Order, so the only conclusion that I can come to is that the old man had definitely lost his marbles," said Ginny.

"Well, I see that you have survived your first memory dive," said the portrait of Dumbledore.

“Good, you're back, maybe you could help us to solve this," said Hermione.

"There is nothing to solve - the memory, if I recall it right, is perfectly clear. But before we can 'solve this,' as Miss Granger puts it, you have to finish all the memories."

"But sir, how could you have been so dense?"

"Ron!" Ginny shouted at him.

“What??? Look, I’m sorry, sir, but after all we tried to show you, how could you still have trusted Snape?"

"Ahhh, the wonders of life."

"So I take it that you are not going to help us until we see all the memories, am I right?" asked Harry.

"Right you are, my boy…" He took a long pause, just examing their thoughtful expressions. "So, what are you waiting for? Have you decided on witch memory to dive into next?"

"No, sir," said Hermione shortly.

"Sir, may I ask you something?" asked Ginny.

"Yes, Miss Weasley."

"Why are we allowed to talk about the memories but we have to go into them separately?"

"Well, my dear, simply because some of the things that are in those memories, you may want to keep to yourselves only. If all of you take a dive together then you will all know, and I honestly have to say that it is up to each of you whether or not you all go in together. If it has only your name than it is your choice to let the others see it or not. Now I must be off again, there's an old friend I’d like to pay a visit to," and he walked off his portrait.

"Well, he makes no sense whatsoever," said Ginny.

"I’m telling you, he was bonkers before he died and it seems to me that he remains the same," said Ron, and they all laughed.

"So what next?" Hermione asked.

"Stick your hand in the chest, Harry, what comes up is what we’ll see next."

"Okay then," Harry said moving over to the desk. He stuck his hands inside the chest and pulled out a flask. Without looking at it he moved over to the pensieve “I guess it's the three of us,” he said, motioning to Hermione and Ron. "Would you like to come Ginny?" he asked her.

"You guys don't mind?" she asked Ron and Hermione; they shook their heads in response, and she moved forward to take Harry's hand. He dumped the memory in and called for the other two to come join them. And soon they were diving again. They landed in a study they did not recognize as three men walked in. One of them was tall, lean and blonde, he looked a lot like Malfoy but a bit older. The second one was dark, with brown hair and copper eyes. The third was short, with brown hair.

"So, how are you feeling, Lucius?" asked the short wizard to the blonde.

"I don't know, Nott, but that had better be a boy," Lucius answered.

"Of course it will be a boy. Firstborns of a Malfoy are always boys. It's been that way for the past five generations," said the brown haired wizard.

"I do hope you are right, Zabini, the Dark Lord will not be pleased otherwise."

"You worry to much, Lucius, the prophecy clearly states that the seventh generation of Malfoy's firstborn will become the next Dark Lord, not Lady."

"Shut up, Nott, I know what it says but it does not guarantee that I will have a boy."

"Lucius, calm down, you'll see, it will be fine. You will have a boy, who will grow up to be like you, marry a pure-blood than have a son, who will become the next dark lord."

"Thanks Zabini, I know but I don't even have a son yet, and I already know what my grandchild will be. I don’t know, I guess I’m just a bit overwhelmed."

There was a moment of silence that was broken by a cry, and what seemed like a medi-witch walked into the room holding a little bundle of blankets. "Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy you have a healthy boy."

Lucius came over to her and took the boy in his arms. He looked down into the eyes of the child and said, "Welcome, my boy. You'll grow up to make me proud; I shall teach you all the Dark Arts that I know, and together will serve the Dark Lord to rid the world of all mud-bloods and half-bloods and blood traitors. Together with our friend we will make them pay for dirtying our society. And you, my boy, shall father the next Dark Lord." He smiled at the boy who surprisingly enough remained still, as if taking in every word that was being said to heart. Then a pause, and as if time was moving much faster than normal the four of them landed on their butts in a dark, cold dungeon. The light was very dim, but they could see Malfoy junior and senior in the far corner, there were three lit candles surrounding them. Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron moved closer, but the two Malfoys just stood there in silence. Draco was taking in deep sharp breaths as if he was in a lot of pain. And then Lucius lifted his wand and said, "Crucio." Draco fell to the ground but made no sound at all, he just lay on the floor of the dungeon in a fetal position, but no cry came from his lips. Around five minutes later, Lucius lifted the curse and walked around Draco’s quivering form, shaking his head. When he spoke he sounded so calm that none would have guessed that he’d just used an Unforgivable Curse on his only son.

"Oh, Draco, how many times are we going to have to go through this?" No answer. "Answer me when I’m speaking to you, boy!"

"I’m… sorry… sir," gasped his son, trembling at his feet.

"Why do you make me do this to you, boy?"

"Father, I can't..."

"Crucio!" And Draco, who had gotten to his knees, was once again on the ground.

"Why do you disrespect me in such way? You brought this on yourself, and why? All because of a dirty mudblood!" He lifted the curse again. "I do not know what else to do to get this through your head! You have a destiny to fulfill, and for that, you need a pure-blood witch, not that nasty mudblood whore."

"She... is... not... a whore."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk… You don't listen, do you, boy? Perhaps I should bring her here, and subject her to the Cruciatus curse instead. Maybe then, you will learn"

"No, father! you can't."

"Try me, boy." For a moment he stopped walking and looked to be in deep thought. "Have you touched her yet?"

"No…"

"That is good, so you haven’t gotten yourself dirty as of yet, and I don’t have to murder her. So there might be hope for you still. Does she know you fancy her?"

"No…"

"Good. And she will never know. I heard she hit you, and you did nothing to get her back for it?"

"She's a girl, you taught me never to hit a girl, remember?"

"Yes, I remember, but she’s different. When I meant ‘never hit a girl’ I meant a pure girl, not a dirty mudblood whore."

"Stop calling her that!" Draco's anger was clear now - it could almost be seen seeping from his body.

"This is my last warning, Draco. Give up. You will never touch her, and if I get wind of it, I swear, boy, I will personally see to it that she gets what she deserves. Am I clear?"

"Crystal. may I go now? I have classes in the morning."

Lucius waved a hand, dismissing him, and with great difficulty Draco got his feet and made his way up the stairs leaving Lucius behind. Seconds later the four students landed back in Dumbledore’s office.

“You know, I almost feel bad for the bloke," said Ron.

"I know, can you imagine growing up knowing that you have to father the new dark lord?" said Ginny.

"Yeah, I can understand the whole prophecy thing, being that I have one to live up to myself," Harry added.

The three of them then looked at Hermione, who remained silent. She looked lost in her own mind.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ginny asked, concerned for her friend.

"He was talking about me…" she whispered.

"What did you say?” Ron asked

"Lucius was cursing him because of me."

"What?” Ron asked, looking very lost now.

"Oh, Ron you are so slow and thick-headed, were you paying any attention to what was going on or were you just enjoying the show?" said Ginny.

"Shut your face, Ginny."

"What she said, Ron, was that Malfoy was being tortured by his father because of Hermione. I mean, she is the only girl I know to ever punch Malfoy in the face."

"No, don't be thick, mate, Lucius was talking about a girl who Malfoy had feelings for, and for sure the ferret has no feeling for a bushy-haired-muggle-born-know-it-all…"

--THUD--

"Ouch! What was that for?" Ron asked, rubbing his head; Ginny had thrown a book at him.

"Well, Ronald, it seems to me that you’re the thick-headed person in this room, being the fact that the book did no damage whatsoever. Draco Malfoy had feelings for our Hermione, and was severely punished for them."

"Okay, so what do we know then," said Hermione, not really wanting to get into the conversation now, she wanted to think about it later on when she was all alone.

"The prophecy stated that Draco, being the sixth generation of first-born-male of the Malfoy family, was to father a boy – who would be the seventh generation – with a pure blood witch, who would grow up to be the next Dark Lord. However, Draco decided that he wanted out, so he went to see Dumbledore. Throwing caution to the winds, he became a spy for the Order of the Phoenix – and all because of our Hermione here," Harry said.

"Sounds that way to me,” said Ginny.

"But if that's right, then how come he was such a git to us? I mean, when he was being tortured by his father, Lucius made it sound like that was not the first time he was hurting him,” said Hermione.

“I don’t know, but being that Dumbledore is not back in his portrait we can’t talk to him. So how about one more, Harry?” asked Ginny.

“No Gin, I think we need some fresh air. Maybe a walk around the lake?”

“Sounds good,” said Ron.

“Okay, let’s go, then,” said Hermione.

They walked over to the lake and took their usual seat under a tree by the lake where the giant squid floated peacefully. Five minutes of silence was interrupted by a brown owl that circled over their heads and dropped a piece of parchment on Ron’s lap, flying away without waiting for an answer. Ron recognized the neat loopy handwriting and immediately turned scarlet.

“Who is it from, Ron?” asked Ginny.

“Luna..” he said dreamily.

“So, wait a minute. It’s Luna, isn’t it, Ron?”

“What are you on about, Hermione?” asked Ginny.

“You love her, don’t you, Ron? That’s who you were talking about back in Gringotts. So are you guys dating, then?” asked Hermione.

“Yeah, I guess we are.”

“Ohhh, ickle Ronnikins has a girlfriend,” mocked Ginny. They all laughed.

“She’s not that bad, you know,” said Ron, still smiling.

“If you say, mate,” said Harry.

“Don’t worry, Ron, me and Hermione will buy her a nice hat,” said Ginny.

“Yeah than we can jinx it to sing for you all night long,” added Hermione, and she fell into fits of laughter, followed by Ginny.

“Please, don’t,” begged Ron.

“They won’t, mate,” and they all fell into fits of laughter. For the time being the memories were placed in the backs of their minds.