Brighter Than the Sun

Chapter Eighty

Dumbledore came in about ten minutes later. I'd already replaced the bottle of memories, but Harry was still looking in the bowl. As Dumbledore noticed Harry snooping, I gave him a look like, What can you do? Dumbledore smiled calmly, crossed the room to Harry, and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"I think. Harry, it is time to return to my office," He said.

Harry started and looked around. "Professor! 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 basin, carried it over to his desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for Harry and I to sit down opposite him. I did so, glancing over at Harry, trying to see if there was any sign of his memories returning, but he gave none.

Harry sat down, too, staring at the stone basin. The contents had returned to their original, silvery-white state, swirling and rippling beneath his gaze.

"What is it?" Harry asked shakily.

"This? It is called a Pensieve," said Dumbledore.

"Oh, right! A Pensieve!" I blurted. Realizing I'd just interrupted Dumbledore, I backpedaled. "Sorry. Grandma'am has one of those and I couldn't remember what they were called. Please continue."

"I sometimes find," Dumbledore said, unbothered, "and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."

"Er," said Harry uncertainly.

"Yes," I said emphatically.

"At these times," said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons 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."

"You mean . . . that stuff's your thoughts?" Harry said, staring at the swirling white substance in the basin.

"Certainly," said Dumbledore. "Let me show you."

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 Harry saw that it was in fact a glistening strand of the same strange silvery-white pearly substance that filled the Pensieve. Dumbledore added this fresh thought to the basin, and I saw my own face, along with Harry's, swimming around the surface of the bowl. Dumbledore placed his long hands on either side of the Pensieve and swirled it, kind of similar to how a gold prospector would pan for fragments of gold. I saw our own faces change 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 and I. "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.

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 anyone in the room. When she spoke, her voice echoed as Snape's had done, as though it were coming from the depths of the stone basin.