Determination

LVII: Rising Action

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" I do not blame you, Rookwood," Harry said in a cold, cruel voice. "You are sure of your facts, Rookwood?" 

"Yes, my lord, yes... I used to work in the department after all..." Said the shivering, wimpering man on the floor.

"I was told Bode could remove it."

"No, my lord," the man pleaded, "Bode would have known he could not... that is why he fought so hard against Malfoy's Imperius Curse... Not many are known who can break it... Though you have one in your grasp who might..." 

The man's eyes flickered to the corner of the room, where a crumpled mass of bruised flesh, bleeding cuts, and blue hair lay. 

"Send Avery to me." 

Rookwood scurried backward, bowing as he hurried out and disappeared through the door. Harry turned to the mangled mass of limbs lying in the corner. He crouched down until he could fit a hand under her chin and turn it towards himself. 

"Have you reconsidered yet?" he asked the girl. 

The girl blearily opened her eyes to look at him. "I'd tell you to get fucked, but I don't think you were reborn with that appendage," she spat. 

Harry quickly bashed her head into the wall in a fit of anger. The girl fell silent again. An unconscious lump in the dark and dreary cellar. Nothing more than mere decoration at this point. Harry turned towards the wall, where a cracked and age-spotted mirror hung on the wall in the shadows. HJarry caught his reflection as he drew nearer and clearer....

Harry gazed at the Pensieve, Curiosity and caution warring inside him. 

What was it Professor Snape wanted to hide from him so badly? 

Harry's heart pumped loudly in his ears as its pace increased. How long would he have before Professor Snape returned from freeing Mantague from the toilets? Would Snape take him to the hospital wing afterward, or would he come straight back here? Harry walked the few remaining steps towards the Pensieve, watching as the glittering lights got closer and brighter. He held his breath as he listened to the silence, searching for any sound in the corridors. There was none. He pulled out his wand and drew in a steadying breath as he prodded the surface with the tip of his wand. 

The shimmering silver liquid began to swirl ever faster, and Harry leaned over to see that it had turned transparent. Harry was plunged headfirst into the memories of the Pensieve. 

Harry found himself standing in the great hall, where dozens of young witches and wizards were hunched over desks and scribbling on pieces of parchment. Harry turned around to find a younger Snape scribbling away the same behind him. Snape was younger; he had to be no older than Harry was now. Harry made a realization with a jolt and looked around the room quickly. He stopped as he found the memory of his father. James Potter looked much the same as Harry did, though without the scar on his forehead. He could see his father lazily look around the room as he scribbled on a spare parchment. Harry continued looking around the room as he found his uncles. Sirius looked cool and relaxed as could be while Remus sat not far from him, carefully re-reading his answers. Harry looked back at his father to see that he had scribbled some jagged red lines, some hearts, and was in the process of writing different letters. Harry thought to investigate further in his father's doodles when James Potter looked up and stared across the room. Harry turned his head in the same direction as his father and saw a small mass of brightly colored blue hair.