Potters And The Next Generation

A Haunting Memory

Disclaimer: THIS IS A PIECE OF FAN-FICTION, DERIVED FROM THE ORIGINAL WORKS OF HARRY POTTER SERIES BY J.K. ROWLING.

Albus

"Dad?" I called his exhausted face, as he sat in the attic library in front of the tall table like structure. The closer I grew, I realized he was asleep. Just like that. Curiosity got the best of me, so I walked up to where he sat and stared at the thing I'd read about as the Pensieve. I'd never seen one in real life. It was beautiful and the liquid in the plate was mesmerizing, especially that silver streak floating in.

Hold up, is that a memory? Can I see it? What if it's something inappropriate? But... Dad was watching it. What was it? Questions started bothering me so I looked at the open vile sitting on the side table and on the little white label was written.

Death of Albus Dumbledore

My eyes widened and I stared at him. Now that I was closer to dad, I could see faint red on his nose and slight dry spells of tears on his cheeks. Why would he watch something like that? He was already in so much pain because of what was happening to our family, then why would he recall his memories of watching Dumbledore die?

Albus Dumbledore Huh.

Curiosity is a drug not a lot can deny and that is why I nullified my reasons to not intrude and bent over into the Pensieve. Silly as it sounded, having a glimpse of the man I was carrying the name of felt like a right to me. As soon as I thought the water in the tray would feel cold or warm, it didn't even feel wet. Strangely, I did feel like I'd been sucked into a white void and was now falling with that silver glitter, swimming around me. My grip was onto nothing and my body felt light, yet terror gripped at my senses and I kept assuring myself that I won't die in here.

Just then, I landed on a surface, right on my feet and waited for a pain to flinch me. However, the floor was dark but my body was fine. When I looked about, I almost retracted for my wand, watching a few dark suited people facing an elder, elegantly dress Professor Dumbledore, alongside... Mum. However, Dad wasn't in sight. Could this be... mum's memory? I was standing next to her, watching who seemed to be a younger version of Uncle Malfoy, holding a wand against her.

"What are you doing here?" Draco Malfoy snapped.

"I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy." Mum asked firmly.

"You shouldn't be here." He seemed to fidget like his plan had grown a flaw.

"Too bad." Mum taunted.

"Draco, I understand you're troubled." I heard Professor Dumbledore's voice and a warmth spread through my chest. What a broken man...

"Shut up." Uncle Malfoy hissed, "Dont talk. Please." Uncle Malfoy was crying. He didn't want this.

"You dont have to do this." Professor Dumbledore spoke.

"Yes I do! You dont understand! I'm chosen!" He pulled up his sleeve and i saw the snake mark. As I had read, this was Voldemort's mark of loyalty, "I have to kill you! Or he will kill me!"

"What? No!" Mum blocked Malfoy's eye from Dumbledore. She was way too loyal!

"I don't wanna hurt you, Ginny." Uncle Malfoy had grown softer in this moment.

"Well, well, what do we have here." That cackle sent a chill down my spine and it was the first time I was watching Bellatrix Lestrange, "Well done, Draco." At this Professor Dumbledore finally raised his wand which was disarmed by Uncle Malfoy just as fast. My fists clenched at the familiar deranged werewolf amongst the wolves, Greyback.

"Kill him. The Dark Lord will be so proud." Bellatrix teased and my jaw clenched. I wish I could do something.

"I'd like to see you try!" Mum yelled, daring them.