Natsu Dragneel and the Goblet of Fire

The Pensieve

The door of the office opened.

"Hello, Dragneel," said Bull. "Come in, then."

Natsu walked inside. He had been inside Master Makarov's office once before; it was a very beautiful, circular room, lined with pictures of previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts, all of whom were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling gently.

Tome E. Fiore was standing beside Master Makarov's desk, wearing his usual pinstriped cloak and holding his lime-green bowler hat.

"Natsu!" said E. Fiore jovially, moving forward. "How are you?"

"Fine," Natsu lied.

"We were just talking about the night when Mr. Zero turned up on the grounds," said E. Fiore. "It was you who found him, was it not?"

"Yes," said Natsu. Then, feeling it was pointless to pretend that he hadn't overheard what they had been saying, he added, "I didn't see Madame Maxime anywhere, though, and she'd have a job hiding, wouldn't she?"

Master Makarov smiled at Natsu behind E. Fiore's back, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, well," said E. Fiore, looking embarrassed, "we're about to go for a short walk on the grounds, Natsu, if you'll excuse us... perhaps if you just go back to your class -"

"I wanted to talk to you, Professor," Natsu said quickly, looking at Master Makarov, who gave him a swift, searching look.

"Wait here for me, Natsu," he said. "Our examination of the grounds will not take long."

They trooped out in silence past him and closed the door. After a minute or so, Natsu heard the clunks of Bull's wooden leg growing fainter in the corridor below. He looked around.

"Hello, Fawkes," he said.

Fawkes, Master Makarov's phoenix, was standing on his golden perch beside the door. The size of a swan, with magnificent scarlet-and-gold plumage, he swished his long tail and blinked benignly at Natsu.

Natsu sat down in a chair in front of Master Makarov's desk. For several minutes, he sat and watched the old headmasters and headmistresses snoozing in their frames, thinking about what he had just heard, and running his fingers over his scar. It had stopped hurting now.

He felt much calmer, somehow, now that he was in Master Makarov's office, knowing he would shortly be telling him about the dream. Natsu looked up at the walls behind the desk. The patched and ragged Sorting Hat was standing on a shelf. A glass case next to it held a magnificent silver sword with large rubies set into the hilt, which Natsu recognized as the one he himself had pulled out of the Sorting Hat in his second year.

The sword had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, founder of Natsu's House. He was gazing at it, remembering how it had come to his aid when he had thought all hope was lost, when he noticed a patch of silvery light, dancing and shimmering on the glass case. He looked around for the source of the light and saw a sliver of silver-white shining brightly from within a black cabinet behind him, whose door had not been closed properly. Natsu hesitated, glanced at Fawkes, then got up, walked across the office, and pulled open the cabinet door.

A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols that Harry did not recognize. The silvery light was coming from the basin's contents, which were like nothing Natsu had ever seen before. He could not tell whether the substance was liquid or gas. It was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving ceaselessly; the surface of it became ruffled like water beneath wind, and then, like clouds, separated and swirled smoothly. It looked like light made liquid - or like wind made solid - Natsu couldn't make up his mind.