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Changes by Lupins_cub
Chapter 10 : Memories
 
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All night Heather was up, thinking before she heard from the bed next to her a long sigh.

“Are you still awake?” whispered Kira.

“Yeah, let’s go downstairs,” Heather said, pulling a black robe around her purple pajamas.

They walked downstairs and found Isaac; he was sitting in a large armchair near the fire, reading a potions book.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” he asked,

“No, still thinking about Crouch and the Gillyweed and the Order.” Heather said, curling up on the couch resting her head on the arm.

“I’ve found out a bit of Gillyweed, Harry couldn’t have taken it. The charms that might be on Snape’s office are way beyond his reach plus Gillyweed isn’t allowed to students.” Isaac said, quoting his book. “Plus, I don’t think Harry is that low to literally cheat like that.”

“Then how’d he get it?” Kira asked, “He’s a student,”

“Maybe it wasn’t a teacher or a student.” Isaac said, putting down the potions book and grabbing Hogwarts: a History!

“Who else could have done it?” Heather asked, “I severely doubt Mrs. Norris likes anyone in this school,” she said with a chuckle

“Ha, ha,” Isaac said dryly before flipping through a few more pages. “House elves,”

“House elves?” Kira asked

Isaac nodded, “They work in the kitchen, that’s how the fires are started in the morning, and the food is prepared. They have amazing powers, which is why a house elf could have gotten the Gillyweed for Harry.”

“What elf would do that, I doubt Harry has an elf slave.” Heather said

“House elves can apparate in and out of Hogwarts despite the aparation wards. It’s simply not possible for us but for an elf it’s perfectly easy. They don’t use wands, it makes sense.” Isaac said

“So an elf,” Heather said taking the book, “Just apparated into Snape’s office and back out with the Gillyweed and didn’t disturb the charms on it.”

“So Snape must’ve just founds something missing, not the charms disturbed.” Kira said

Isaac nodded through a big yawn, “I ‘pose so,” he said

Through the night they talked, theorizing and analyzing the situations till it was one in the morning. That morning was hot; they spent most of their free time outside in the cooling breeze. Heather and Kira dreaded their last class today, divination; Professor Trelawney never let the fire in her classroom go out. Unwillingly they climbed the steps to the stuffy classroom and sat down hoping not to fall asleep.

“My dears,” she chimed, sitting down in her winged armchair in front of the class and peering around at them all with her strangely enlarged eyes, “we have almost finished out work on the planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights…”

Heather stared at the swirling crystal ball in front of her, not really listening letting her mind wander. She watched as the orb glowed as the lights dimmed and Trelawney took out a miniature model of the solar system. It was then her sights were directed back to the orb sitting in front of her, something was moving in it. It was an owl, a very large owl that was carrying a person on the back. She watched as he stepped off and it fluttered across a room to land on the back of a tall arm chair.

Heather then realized it was Harry who was in the room, but he wasn’t alone with the owl. There were two dark shapes on the floor beside the chair, both of them were stirring. One was a huge snake the other was a man a short balding man, a man with watery eyes and pointed nose he was wheezing and sobbing on the hearth rug. Heather recognized him immediately, Peter Pettigrew,

“You are in luck, Worm tail,” said a cold, high-pitched voice whispering in her ear; it was coming from the chair. “You are very fortunate indeed. Your blunder has not reined everything. He is dead.”

“My Lord!” gasped Pettigrew, “My Lord, I am…I am sop pleased…and so sorry…”

“Nagini,” it whispered again, “you are out of luck. I will not be feeding Wormtail to you, after all…but never mind, never mind…there is still Harry Potter…”

Heather’s jaw dropped, as she drew closer to the orb, the voices ringing perfectly in her head. The snake hissed. Heather felt as though the snake was right next to her, it sent chills down her spin.

“Now, Wormtail,” whispered the voice again, “perhaps one more little reminder why I will not tolerate another blunder from you…”

“My Lord…no…I beg you…”

The tip of a wand emerged from the chair and was pointed at Wormtail.

“Crucio!” said the cold voice.

Wormtail screamed, screamed as though every nerve in his body was on fire, the screaming rang in Heather’s ears. Suddenly Heather screamed too and fell out of her chair, hitting the table with her knee on the table so the orb toppled to the floor with her.

“Heather!” she heard Kira yelp.

“Harry! Harry! she could hear Ron’s voice calling him.

“Heather?” Kira gasped, as she opened her eyes. “What was it?”

“I need to get out of here,” Heather said, stumbling to her feet; the orb fell from her lap, gray mist swarming in it once more.

“Heather, are you sure you’re okay?” Kira asked she could feel her hand clutching her arm.

Heather watched as Harry left, and nodded, “I need to go, now.”

“You tell me Smith, what you saw, you and Potter both screamed at the same time.” Professor Trelawney said.

“Nothing, I just need to see…Madam Pomfrey, I don’t feel well.” Heather said, which she truly didn’t, she was trembling and felt like she could throw up.

“My dear, you both were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room!” she said excitedly, “If you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than you have ever-”

“I don’t feel well.” Heather said, firmly. “See you later…”

Heather said then took Harry’s lead and left the classroom without another word. She wasn’t going to Madam Pomfrey she was doing what Remus told her to. She could see his words printed clearly on the parchment ‘If it happens again go strait to Dumbledore.’ she was going to do just that. Heather tried to remember all that she had seen and heard Wormtail had screwed up someone was dead and he wasn’t going to be fed to the Snake, Nagini. But Harry was and she had seen all this through and orb and came from it at exactly the same time as Harry; but he claimed to have a headache. It was when Heather came upon him in front of Dumbledore’s office she knew it wasn’t a headache.

“Chocolate Frog!” he yelled angrily, standing on one leg. “Sugar Quill! Cockroach Cluster!”

The gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside. “Wow…” Heather said, “You were joking right?”

“Yeah...Yeah…wait why are you here?” he asked

“A bit of a screw up in Trelawney’s class, you could say.” Heather said

“If you’re here to ask me about that thing I had up there-” Harry began

“So you did see it?” Heather asked, “That dream thing, with Pettigrew and the snake and stuff?”

Harry stared at her blank faced, “Yeah, how did you see that?”

“Through an orb, trust me these days I see way too much.” Heather said exhaustedly before stepping onto the golden stairs he followed.

They discussed a bit on the way up the stairs about what they had seen and realized they had seen the same thing at the same time. They walked to the wooden door of Dumbledore’s office but Heather grabbed Harry’s wrist before he could knock and nodded to the door.

“Dumbledore, I’m afraid I don’t know see the connection, don’t see it at all!” It was the voice of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. “Ludo says Bertha’s perfectly capable of getting herself lost. I agree we would have expected to have found her by now, but all the same, we’ve no evidence of foul play. Dumbledore, none at all. As for her disappearance being linked with Barty Crouch’s!”

Heather’s jaw dropped, since when was Crouch missing? “And what do you think’s happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?” came Moody’s growling voice.

“I see two possibilities, Alastor,” said Fudge. “Either Crouch has finally cracked-more than likely, I’m sure you’ll agree, given his personal history-lost his mind, and gone wandering off somewhere-”

“He wandered extremely quickly, if that is the case, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore calmly.

“Or else-well…” Fudge sounded embarrassed. “Well, I’ll reserve judgment until after I’ve seen the place where he was found but you say it was just pas the Beauxbatons carriage? Dumbledore, you know what that woman is?”

Heather glowered, she hated that term, is, so what if she was a giant or whatever doesn’t mean she is a criminal and Heather severely doubted it.

“I consider her to be a very able headmistress- and an excellent dancer,” said Dumbledore quietly.

“Dumbledore, come!” Fudge burst angrily. “Don’t you think you might be prejudiced in her favor because of Hagrid? They don’t all turn out harmless-if; indeed, you can call Hagrid harmless, with that monster fixation he’s got-”

“I no more suspect Madam Maxime than Hagrid,” said Dumbledore, just as calmly. “I think it possible that it is you who are prejudiced, Cornelius.”

“Can we wrap up this discussion?” growled Moody.

“Yes, yes, let’s go down to the grounds, then,” said Fudge impatiently.

“No, it’s not that,” said Moody, “it’s just that Potter and Smith want a word with you, Dumbledore. They’re just outside the door.”

Heather exchanged a questioning glance with Harry before the office door opened.

“Hello, Potter, Smith,” said Moody, “Come in, then.”

Heather had never been in Dumbledore’s office, it was beautiful, a large round office with the sleeping portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. Cornelius Fudge was standing beside Dumbledore’s desk, wearing a pinstriped cloak and holding his lime-green bowler hat.

“Harry!” he said, moving forward to Harry. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Harry said

“Miss Smith,” Fudge said politely. Heather gave a feeble smile and nodded to him, remaining silent. “We were just talking about the night when Mr. Crouch turned up on the grounds,” said Fudge. “It was you who found him were it not?”

“Yes,” Harry said, “I didn’t see Madam Maxime anywhere, though, and she’d have a job hiding, wouldn’t she?”

Heather watched as Dumbledore smiled behind Fudges back at Harry, she was extremely interested in hearing more.

“Yes, well,” said the Minster looking rather embarrassed, “we’re about to go for a short walk on the grounds, Harry if you’ll excuse us…perhaps if you just go back to your class-”

“We came to see you, sir.” Heather said, looking to Dumbledore.

“Wait, here for me, the both of you,” he said. “Our examination of the grounds will not take long.”

They trooped out in silence past them and closed the door. After a minute or so, they heard clunks of Moody’s wooden leg growing fainter in the confider below.

“Crouch isn’t ill, I’m guess?” Heather asked

“Well, I think he is ill.” Harry said, remembering the night. “I was out there with Krum, discussing something, after Bagman had told us of the third task. Then Crouch showed up, saying he had made a mistake and had to see Dumbledore. I left Krum there with him and when I got back Krum was stunned and Crouch was gone.”

“That seems odd, I don’t think Krum would stun himself…Crouch was really that off though?” Heather asked

Harry nodded, “Sirius said that Crouch went through tough times in his past, trying to become Minister and his son dying in Azkaban. Because it was a part of some death eaters, he died shortly after he was put in the prison; his wife died soon after.”

“Didn’t he try to get his son out?” she asked

“No, Sirius said that anything that could tarnish his reputation-which was a harsh one of strict measures against Voldemort supporters-had to go.” Harry said, “Remember at the World Cup, how he sacked his house elf in a heart beat?” Heather nodded, “Sirius said that’s how it was probably with his son, and he gave him a trail just to show his hate before sending him to Azkaban.”

“Wow…” Heather said, as they went quiet for a moment. “Do you think it was Crouch who got the Gillyweed?” Heather choked and coughed when she realized what spilled out of her mouth.

“What?” Harry asked,

“Nothing, really it-”

“Crouch didn’t get me the Gillyweed,” Harry snapped,

“No, of course not, that’s what I and Kira and Isaac figured. I mean if Crouch wanted to get into Snape’s business why didn’t he go to all the challenges and stuff.” Heather said, “We actually think a house elf could have done it, but it seems so far fetched, eh?”

Harry stared, “A house elf did get it for me, and his name is Dobby he used to work for the Malfoy’s.”

They lapsed into silence again, sitting in two chairs that sat in front of Dumbledore’s desk. Heather couldn’t believe Isaac was right, so if it wasn’t Crouch and a house elf how did he see Crouch in the office? Her confusion was broken when Harry stood up; he was walking to a cupboard where a basin sat with silver liquid in it. Heather remained seated and watched as Harry gazed into the basin, she stood.

“What is it?” she asked

“I-I don’t know…” he said, and then took out his wand.

“Harry, don’t” she said as he prodded the liquid with his wand. The surface of the silvery stuff inside the basin began to swirl very fast. Harry bent closer, his head right inside the cabinet. The silvery substance had become transparent; it looked like glass. Heather couldn’t see the bottom over his shoulder but a room, with stone benches and no windows. Harry bent closer then without warning, Harry disappeared with a wisp of silver.

“Harry!” Heather gasped, grabbing the sides of the basin and staring inside.

The room was still there, it was clearer now; Harry sat next to a much younger looking Dumbledore. It seemed to be some sort of trial; it was now Heather wished she could hear what was going on. Heather backed away and tired to remember what Isaac said about that Occlumency thing. How it felt like someone was so close that you cold feel them breathing. She walked back to the basin and placed her hands on the sides again and stared at Harry. Suddenly she was in the room, watching from unknown point in the room seeing exactly what Harry was seeing.

With the sudden coldness in the room Heather realized that dementors had just brought in a man and to a chair in the middle of the room. Heather looked to the chair and saw Karkaroff sitting there. Karkaroff looked much younger; his hair and goatee were black. He was not dressed in sleek furs, but in thin and ragged robes. He was shaking. Even as Heather watched, the chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff’s arms, binding him there.

“Igor Karkaroff,” Heather looked to she Mr. Crouch, standing up in the middle of the bench beside Harry. Crouch’s hair was dark, his face much les lined, he looked fit and alert. “You have been brought from Azkaban to present evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us.”

“I have, sir,” he said, and although his voice was very scared, Heather could hear the unctuous note in it. “I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I-I know that the Ministry is trying to-to round up the last of the Dark Lord’s supporters. I am anger to assist in any way I can…”

There was a murmur among the ground, some of interest other of mistrust, then a familiar growl came to her ears and she looked to her right. “Filth,” Heather looked to see a very different Mad-Eye Moody sitting next to Dumbledore. He did not have his magical eye, but two normal ones. Both were looking down upon Karkaroff, and both were narrowed in intense dislike.

“Crouch is going to let him out,” Moody breathed quietly to Dumbledore. “He’s done a deal with him. Took me six months to track him down, and Crouch is going to let him go if he’s got enough new names. Let’s hear his information, I say, and throw him strait back to the dementors.” Dumbledore gave a sniff of dislike. “Ah, I was forgetting…you don’t like the dementors, do you, Albus?”

“No,” Dumbledore said calmly, “I’m afraid I don’t. I have long felt the M ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures.”

“You say you have names for us, Karkaroff,” said Mr. Crouch, Heather turned her attention back to him; she could feel Harry still listen to Moody who she heard faintly say ‘But for filth like this…’ “Let us hear them please.”

Karkaroff started hurriedly on something but Heather was distracted by a presence, Harry. He knew she was there in his mind, he was struggling against her but she held a firm grip on his mind and they listened.

“Which was a wise move, wasn’t it, as it prevented someone like you, Karkaroff, from turning all of them in,” muttered Moody.

“Yet you say you have some names for us?” said Mr. Crouch

“I-I do,” said Karkaroff breathlessly. “And these were important supporters, mark you. People I saw with my own eyes doing his bidding. I give this information as sign that I fully and totally renounce him, and am with remorse so deep I can barely-”

“These names are?” demanded Mr. Crouch.

“There was Antonin Dolohov,” he said

“We have already apprehended Dolohov,” said Crouch “He was caught shortly after yourself. Any others?”

“Why, yes…there was Rosier,” Karkaroff said hurriedly, “Evan Rosier.”

“Rosier is dead,” said Crouch. “He was caught shortly after you were too. He preferred to fight rather than come quietly and was killed in the struggle. Any more?”

Karkaroff named two other men one by the name of Agustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries. Then Travers and Mulciber, whom the Ministry already had apprehended.

“Not yet!” cried Karkaroff, looking quite desperate. “Wait, I have more!”

Heather could see him sweating in the torchlight, his white skin contrasting strongly with the black of his hair and beard.

“Snape,” he shouted. “Severus Snape!”

Snape’s name had been cleared, Dumbledore even vouched for him, Heather was shocked. That is what Karkaroff was showing Snape, did that mean they were both to be trusted or mistrusted? She didn’t know as the room began to fade around them, melting the walls and benches beneath them. It was then the dungeons returned, the air of the room had changed and they now sat next to Mr. Crouch. It was happy and cheerful, she recognized a young blonde witch as Rita Skeeter sucking on a green acid quill. Mr. Crouch looked more tired and somehow fiercer, gaunter…it was a different memory, different day…a different trial.

Different it was as Ludo Bagman walked into room and sat down in the chained chair. He clearly at the height of his Quidditch-playing fitness. His nose wasn’t broken now; he was tall and lean and muscular. Bagman looked nervous as he sat down but wasn’t bound as Karkaroff was.

“Ludo Bagman, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the death eaters,” said Mr. Crouch. “We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce your judgment?”

Heather was shocked, Ludo Bagman didn’t’ seem like the man to be a death eater; nonetheless there her sat on trial.

“Only,” said Bagman, smiling awkwardly, “well-I know I’ve been a bit of an idiot-”

“You never spoke truer word, boy” Heather recognized it as Moody right away even though Harry turned to see him.

“Ludovic Bagman, you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort’s supporters,” said Mr. Crouch. “For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than-”

Suddenly there were many outcries from the people in the room, shaking their fists at Crouch as Bagman said he had no idea he was passing information.

“It will be put to vote,” said Mr. Crouch coldly. He turned to the right hand side of the dungeon. “The jury will please raise their hands…those in favor of imprisonment…”

No one raised their hand; one witch even stood up and congratulated Crouch on his defeat in a tournament against Turkey.

“Despicable,” said Crouch looking furious, “Rookwood get him a job in deed…The day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a sad day indeed for the Ministry…”

The dungeon dissolved again the atmosphere changed again, and once again Harry tried to fight her off. No, I want to see this! She hissed at him, for some reason she couldn’t hear his response but continued to watch the trial.

“Father…” said a boy with straw-colored hair sitting in the chair, he was shivering. “Father…please…

Heather realized who it was, by the way the witch next to Crouch whimpered into a handkerchief. It was Crouch’s son, but Crouch continued over him with his son’s sentence no matter how loud he pleaded.

“Father, I didn’t’!” shrieked the boy in chains below. “I didn’t, I swear it, Father don’t send me back to the dementors-”

“You are further accused,” bellowed Mr. Crouch, “of using Cruciatus Curse on Frank Long bottoms wife, when he would not give you information. You planned to restore he who must not be named to power, and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led while he was strong. I now ask the jury-” the boy screamed to his mother for mercy but Crouch continued. “I now ask the jury,” he shouted, “to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!”

The boy began screaming for mercy as the dementors glided back into the room and took hold of him. He tried to fight though it was frivolous as the cold powers of the dementors began to drain him of energy.

“I’m your son!” he screamed up at Crouch as he and the woman went to leave the room. “I’m your son!”

“You are no son of mine!” bellowed Crouch, his eyes bulging. “I have no son!”

Heather suddenly lost control and felt as though she had just let the ground slip underneath her and was thrown back like a sling shot. The last she saw was the woman fainting next to Crouch him not noticing. Heather let go the pensive and flew onto the cement floor right at Dumbledore’s feet.

“Professor, I-I mean Harry and he went in-I got curious he disappeared with a wisp of smoke and Crouch and-” Heather rambled nervously, doubting Dumbledore understood her.

“Stay here,” he said, helping her up, as she swayed slightly he walked to the pensive and disappeared like Harry with a wisp of silver smoke. Within minutes Harry and Dumbledore returned from the basin.

“You!” Harry said, “You wouldn’t let me go!”

“Harry, I had every right to see it too! I mean did you see all that and Crouch and Karkaroff, I knew it!” she said, “He was a death eater….

“Former…Miss. Smith…former…” Dumbledore said, taking the basin and setting it on his desk as the sat in the two chairs again.

Dumbledore explained the basin that they had gone into was a pensive and the swirling silver substance was his thoughts. He said he would place his thoughts in there when his head seemed too crammed with them and visits back at them with his own leisure. Heather could give anything to dump a few of her thoughts into a bowl and come back after maybe a nice vacation. He placed a few more memories, ones of Snape talking to Karkaroff and another of a young Bertha Jorkins. Heather was just wandering back to the previous event, Voldemort, the snake, Peter Pettigrew.

“So, Harry, Heather,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Before the both of you got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something.”

“Yes,” Harry said. “Professor-I was in Divination just now, and-er-I fell asleep.”

Harry began to explain the dream as Heather sat quiet, apparently Harry had had a similar dream this summer; she decided not to ask.

“So you had this dream, Heather, what does this have to do with you?” he asked,

“I well, sort of saw his dream through a crystal ball that sit on the table in front of me. We both sort of snapped out of our states with a scream.” Heather said

Dumbledore nodded, “Tell me, did you see Voldemort?” Now that Heather thought about it she shook her head, she too had only seen the back of the chair; which caused the question of how he held the wand. It was then Heather’s thoughts wandered back to the basin as they discussed Voldemort’s power and a name stood out in her mind; Longbottom.

“Neville?” Heather thought aloud.

“Mmm?” Heather looked up to see Dumbledore looking at her through his half moon spectacles. “I mean, in the last memory we were in, well, Crouch’s son he was being accused of torturing the Longbottoms…Neville’s parents?”

“Has Neville never told you Harry, or Kira, why he was brought up by his grandmother?” he asked

Heather shook her head, “If he told Kira, she hasn’t told me.”

“No…” Harry said. Heather found that surprising he must’ve known Neville for a good while at least.

“Yes, they were talking about Neville’s parents,” said Dumbledore “His father, Frank, and was an Auror just like Professor Moody. He and his wife were tortured for information about Voldemort’s whereabouts after he lost his powers, as you heard.”

“So they’re dead?” Harry asked

“No,” said Dumbledore, he had bitterness in his voice Heather had never heard. “They are insane. They are both in St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe Neville visits them, with this grandmother, during the holidays. They do not recognize him.”

Heather heart fell into her stomach which fell through the floor as she sat there horror struck. She couldn’t imagine the torture of a loved one not recognizing her…it was almost a lucky thing that her mother rested in peace instead alive and insane.

“The Longbottoms were very popular,” he continued. “That attacks on them came after Voldemort’s fall from power, just when everyone though they were safe. Those attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known. The ministry was under great pressure to catch those who had done it. Unfortunately, the Longbottoms’ evidence was-given their condition- none too reliable.”

“Then Mr. Crouch’s son might not have been involved?” Harry asked

“As to that, I have no idea.” Dumbledore said shaking his head.

“Er,” Harry said, “Mr. Bagman…”

“….has never been accused of any Dark activity since,” he said calmly.

“Right,” Harry said hastily.

Heather stared at the thoughts swirling in the pensive then said “What about…” then from the Pensive swirled the face of Snape giving her a start, Dumbledore looked to it.

“No more has Professor Snape,” he said to her.

It was then Harry asked another one of her unasked questions. “What made you think he’d really stopped supporting Voldmeort, Professor?” Heather looked up to him, watching as the headmaster gazed at Harry for a moment.

“That, Harry, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself.”

That was the end of the conversation, there was a finishing silence in the air, which made Heather stand up and Harry followed in suit.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said as Heather opened the door. “Please do not speak about Neville’s parents to anybody else. He has the right to let people know, when he is ready.”

“Yes Professor,” Harry said turning to go.

“Heather,” she turned, holding the door open as Harry walked past going down the stairs. “Stay, I wish to speak with you alone.”

“Yes, Professor,” she said, letting the wooden door close.


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