Seventh Horcrux

Harry Potter vs. Love (Pt. 3)

I tripped on my way outside of the pensieve, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor. I was viciously pleased when Dumbledore did the same, even if it was on me.

"Quite alright, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, standing and holding out a withered hand.

I grabbed the edge of his desk to haul myself up. "Fine. I was simply examining the floor for defects and found it woefully inadequate."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as I slumped into a chair, checking my robes for dirt. I found myself dizzy in ways unexplained by magical travel. We'd gone back to a particular class during my first time at Hogwarts, but that wasn't how I remembered that conversation at all.

Which led to the question: Was my memory faulty? Had someone obliviated me? Or oblivated Slughorn? I'm pretty sure I would recall if I had done that…Would I?

Also, what was that white fog? Potions fumes? I said, "Sir, I know the dungeons have always had ventilation problems, but was it really that bad back then?"

Dumbledore said, "That wasn't normal smoke, I'm afraid. It's proof of memory tampering."

"Who did it?" I asked. "Voldemort? A Death Eater? You? Professor –"

"He did it to himself, out of shame," Dumbledore said. "Whatever happened in that conversation has laid very heavily on Horace's conscience, very heavily indeed. It may be the very information we require to destroy Lord Voldemort."

I nodded.

"I need you to get that memory for me, Harry," Dumbledore said gravely.

It's important to remember that Dumbledore only calls people to his office when he wants to manipulate them into doing something for him. Or to manipulate them into learning some sort of moral lesson. Sometimes both.

It had been nearly a day since we first attempted to floo into Hogwarts.

Lucius had successfully made it through, but the green fire merely fizzled when Sirius tried to follow him. My right-hand man's robes still occasionally released puffs of smoke as we anxiously waited by the fireplace.

"Whaddaya bet he got captured and gave us all up?" Sirius said.

"Shut up, Black," Rodolphus Lestrange growled at him.

"Oh, come on. This is Lucy we're talking about. I bet he told them everything the moment they pointed a wand at him."

It seemed that, once again, Sirius Black had said what we were all thinking. I sighed heavily. "Well, Rookwood and Hagrid are watching the front door, so we're prepared if Dumbledore tries to break in. I presume the wards haven't alerted you of anything?"

Sirius grinned, no doubt thrilled to present me with good news. "Nope."

"I just don't understand how this happened. The plan was foolproof!" I said.

"I bet Bellatrix warned them," Sirius said.

Rodolphus sneered at him. "She's been dead longer than we've been planning this."

"Hey, she knew Trelawney," Sirius said. "Unless you're doubting our prophetess?"

"No, of course not," he muttered.

Earlier, I had ventured to the third floor, where the air is thick with exotic perfumes and ancient magic. There, I had found Trelawney hunched over a table. Her nose was half-flattened against her crystal ball, her eyes squeezed shut to better see with her third eye. While she had no clear visions of Lucius's whereabouts, or his likely betrayal, she insisted that we remain at Grimmauld Place. It was, she told me, our only hope.