Grindeldore || Oneshots || ATadBitAHistory

Memories ( S? )

Credits to :- bitheokle for the idea for this chapter, I thought I'd never write about anything Grindeldore that was written in an era past 1899 or when they were just so young, but I can't help myself with this.

The Year 1999 :-

Harry Potter, 'The Boy Who Lived' had graduated Hogwarts the previous year. He was slightly relieved, he was only nineteen, but spent most of his life fighting this dark entity, that the majority of the human population didn't even know existed.

A break was so sweet and pleasant, but the silence had become deafening to an extent if he was tell the truth.

Honestly, he was only coming back to the building because he felt there was so much he had missed. Surely there was another piece to this puzzle, it couldn't just.. be over?

Maybe he only felt that way because that's what he had grown accustomed to, everybody else had just moved on with their lives after the war, more than content with themselves, for the most part.

He didn't know what was holding him back from starting a new chapter, or even book in his life, his mind hadn't worked it out.

He figured that revisiting home would be a good idea, it might leave him with some clarity. All these questions were spiralling around in his head, living rent free, but today he was challenging all these thoughts.

School was quite literally out for summer, meaning nobody was occupying the school except ghosts and since he knew the password to what was previously Professor Dumbledore's office, he felt he should go and find something, he just didn't know what.

He was well aware the dangers of snooping, he paid an expensive price for seemingly everytime he attempted it. But he already had his mind set. He was just pacing for a few moments, contemplation, a skill Harry needed to pick up from an early age.

He started to look through a few things, notes, posters, a cupboard and a few shelves. That's when he noticed the pencieve, there were no memories in it the last time he had been in this office.

That's when he started thinking, "could this give me answers", little thoughts filling his head. " Maybe then I could go back to Grimmauld Place and put all of this behind me". So he acted out of impulse, his better judgement put aside as went to look into the pencieve.

Memories were floating around in his vision for a moment before becoming clear. He saw a young boy, standing up front at the great hall infront of the teachers tables, he had shoulder length Auburn hair, probably in his last year at Hogwarts.

An old woman was standing beside him, smiling, she was putting a golden medal around his neck, he was smiling aswell and around of applause came soon after.

That's when he heard a familiar name. "This award goes to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, for the most intricate essay on Mandragora in the United Kingdom". Harry remembered the name, he also remembered Rita Skeeter's article on "The Lies and Life of Albus Dumbledore", feeling a lot less proud now, but before he could properly process that, another memory was being presented.

This time he was in a forest surrounded by green scenery, sitting down, he had multiple leaflets and spare bits and bobs, mostly parchement lying about, he was paying close attention to whatever he was writing about it, as if it was going to be highly significant in the near future.

He had recognised the deathly hallows sign on the top of the parchment he was writing on.

There was a heterochromic boy next to him, doing the same thing, drawing most of his attention to whatever he was writing down. But he recognised the boy. He'd seen him in that photo next to Professor Dumbledore when they were younger, it was the same boy around the same age.

Harry immediately knew what they were writing about which made his own blood run much colder, he didn't even want to think of it. Then again before he knew it, he was dragged from that memory and plunged right into another one.

This time he saw something a little more confusing. They were in a small room, even yet, Mr. Grindelwald was.. hugging.. Professor Dumbledore? Well, Harry wasn't actually mad about that, everybody is allowed friends and Dumbledore obviously could never have known what he would've become later on in life, but it was an odd sight, atleast.

Then Harry saw them instantly pulling apart as a loud noise came, seemingly a man's voice, a very intimidating voice at that, he just barged his way through the door, with what looked like.. a goat in his arms? And continued to yell, something about blokes, Harry couldn't even catch the half of it, but kind of wished he could've, that might've been helpful for later.

He was less intrested in that. Professor Dumbeldore was just looking down, possibly even ashamed, and he never looked like that when Harry saw him, even at indignant times. Mr. Grindelwald however just looked sort of fed up, as if he'd heard this lecture one hundreds times before.

It was odd however, the man yelling really looked more like a boy, probably a year or even two younger than the two boys there, probably taking liberties or thinks he's being cool. Harry wondered how he'd react to find out how powerful both wizards would become in the future.

Just like that he was being wisked into a new 'vision' with no thought of it. This time the two boys were in a different person's bedroom. Strangely close, very uncomfortably close for even close friends, no seriously, even Harry was surprised, and he'd dragged his best friends to literal life threatening danger and back.

Harry had no problem with friends being close, but their mouths were literally locked together. Which is saying a lot.

Except, this had Harry questioning Dumbledore's taste in partners aswell. Everybody likes a bad boy, but we cross a line at snogging terrorists, apparently people forgot to inform Professor Dumbledore of that part though.

They were really going at it though, but Harry decided to tow the line when the started pulling at eachother's shirts. He would never know what happened next, but he wasn't really keen to find out anyways. He needed that thought out of his head, which, considering he still remembers when he was 6 and seen Uncle Vernon in a towel, he knew fine well he wasn't getting rid of it.

His former headmaster having a one-night stand with a criminal was not something he found to be a pretty picture to paint in his head. That being said, he left the pencieve very swiftly after that.

Who would even leave something like that in a pencieve? Nobody wants to see that.

A/n :- I am so sorry that this chapter is so short, it's really just a bit of fun for me, so i fonished up the oneshot not realising I was nearly two hundred words shorter than exoected of me. But I hope you're all having a good day, but if not, just remember I'm always here to talk :) no judgement here. Well, if you tell me you're a racist person, I'll probably do a lot of judging, but their than that, you're good!