9

Chapter IX: Pieces of a Puzzle

(Harry P.O.V)

Harry had felt horrible as he stumbled into the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The mystery of Draco had been hard enough to sleep on, but the fact that he had gotten the ungodly duty of mid-night shift patrol on his first week back to the castle had made him wish he was stuck in a gravity chamber with Thralls. For as cruel as Morgana's training could be, at least, for the most part, she let him sleep.

He smiled, however, finding Daphne standing against the door of the Dark Arts class, a glimmering red potion vial in her hand. "I had a feeling you weren't going to get much sleep after our patrol." Harry nodded, his tired eyes making the Slytherin Fifth-Years point irrefutable, "Drink," Daphne whispered pushing the vial into his hand, "It's pepper-up potion, it should keep you awake until the end of class at least."

"You're a lifesaver," Harry said with a grin as he downed the potion, energy instantly swelling through his body.

"I've been told, now come on," Daphne said, "Snape hates you enough when you aren't late." Harry nodded grimly as he took his girlfriend's hand, the two walking into, what at one point was his favorite classroom. The nature of the class had always made the room look, 'creepy', Moody had trinkets of his own collection lining the room, and Remus had the nerve to even open the window and let some light in during his reign, but Snape wasn't having any of it. Harry didn't consider himself an expert decorator by any means, but if he had to pick a motif for the design choice of Snape, it would be quite simple, black.

The dimmest of lighting broke through the shuttered shut windows, and an ominous black shroud hovered over the room, blending in perfectly with the dark walls. If Snape had been authorized to change the colors of the desk, Harry was quite certain they'd have been black too. Honestly, Harry felt as if he could bag on the Snape's room design choices for hours, but he hadn't the opportunity, as the creaking of the office door alerted the class of his arrival. "Welcome... students," Snape began with a cold sneer, "To your O.W.L Year of Defense Against the Dark Arts Class. As you all had my potions class in the past, I'm certain you are already familiar with the rules of my classroom. There will be no side chatter, no meaningless quandaries, and there will be no wand waving without my explicit permission."

Harry felt Snape's eyes fall upon him, "Is that understood, Mr. Potter?"

"Sorry, sir," Harry retorted, "I was under the impression that none of us were to answer as you put it, 'meaningless quandaries'. I was assuming that rule applied to you as well."

A gentle chuckle from the Gryffindor Students filled the air as Snape's sneer thickened. "Cheek is not a wise practice in my classroom, Mr. Potter, you will do well to remember that in the future." Snape's cloak flapped in the air as he turned, stepping out in front of the lecture podium. "Moving on," Snape said, his voice curling in the sky, "As you all know, learning how to defend oneself from danger is an important skill to have, it is an even more of an urgent requirement now more than ever. So we will begin small, who can tell me when a witch or wizard is at their most dangerous."

Snape's eyes scanned the hall before the Head of Slytherin House called out, "Finnigan, do you know the answer?"

"Well, magic is tied to emotion," Finnigan started, "Perhaps when a witch or wizard is angry?"

"Incorrect, five points from Gryffindor," Snape started.

"You can't take points for a wrong answer!" Ron called out, "That's bull-"

He stopped himself but Snape had clearly gotten the message, "Ten points from Gryffindor. Does anyone else have anything they'd like to address?"

"At the risk of losing more points," Harry started, the eyes of his girlfriend glaring into his back, "A witch or wizard is at their most dangerous when they are armed. Most don't bother to train combat skills without their wand, meaning that once their wand is removed, they become useless."

"Correct," Snape said, "And five more points from Gryffindor for talking out of turn," Harry sat down with a shrug of indifference as Snape began to walk down the classroom aisle, "While incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Mr. Potter is correct regarding a wizard and his wand. Should a wizard become unarmed, they are much weaker. As you seem to be such an expert on the art of combat, Mr. Potter, perhaps you'd like to demonstrate the disarming charm."

A devilish smirk rose to Harry's face as he stood, walking towards the clearing at the front of the room, "It would be my pleasure," Harry whispered as he lowered his knees, taking his fighting stance.

"To disarm me, Mr. Potter," Snape said, the hum of his voice capable of being felt through Harry's feet, "You will be needing your wand. Hopefully you haven't forgotten that."

"Trust me," Harry said with a crooked smile, "I don't need it to disarm you." The oohs of the crowd hummed in the background as Snape took his stance, "Though I suppose it wouldn't be fair to not give you a target to shoot at either," Harry said pulling his wand from his cloak, "Don't worry though, I won't use it."

"Impudent behavior is dangerous on the field of battle, Mr. Potter," Snape curled, "Overconfidence is a sure fire way to get yourself killed." Harry simply chuckled in return as a disarming charm jumped from Snape's wand. Harry effortlessly, moved to the side as he glared at the Professor before him, the hatred for the mark the man wore on his arm beneath his sleeve causing his magic to bubble within him as he countered.

Snap!

Harry had wished he'd instructed somebody to take a picture of the Defense Against the Dark Art Professor's face as Snape's eyes began to balloon in size, his repulsive sneer dropping for a mere second to one of visible awe as he glared at his black wand that now rested firmly in Harry's hand. Snape's awe had quickly vanished however, returning to one of sheer disgust as Snape called out, "I believe that you have something that is mine," Harry smirked, dropping the wand, summoning a gust of wind to roll it towards the professor as the class remained silent. "I do hope you feel proud of yourself Potter, wordless and wandless magic are far beyond the capacity of most students in this classroom. In your attempt to make a fool of me, you neglected your purpose as a demonstrator."

Harry's face remained passive as Snape turned, "You will now divide… into pairs. One partner will attempt to cast the spell, the other will attempt to avoid and counter. The objective is to disarm only, should I see any other spells, you will be seeing Dumbledore before this class is over." Harry felt Snape's eyes fall upon him, "Were my instructions in any way unclear, I was under the impression you had two ears capable of understanding language."

Harry scoffed as he turned his back to Snape returning to Daphne who stood there waiting for him. "Was that really necessary?" She whispered with a tired sigh.

"Yes," Harry replied curtly, "Now who's casting, you or me?"

"You don't exactly look like you need any more practice with the spell," Daphne said, her wand gripped tightly in her hand, "You dodge, I shoot."

"Fair enough," Harry said, standing over her with a smile, "Come and get me, Princess."

"You're on, Flyboy."

Harry watched as the sweat gleaned from Daphne's brow, her charms failing to land as Harry weaved between the jets of red. Though, Daphne had still managed to remain calm, frustration seeming to have no effect on her as the two danced. For a moment, Harry had wanted to soften up, to allow her to land a lucky hit, but that was an option. There was no time for being friendly when training any longer. Every hour of training was as lifelike as possible, as Harry knew damn well the Death Eaters wouldn't be so merciful.

Though as Daphne's arm tired, Harry couldn't help but turn to face Draco who for the past thirty minutes had been having Ron on the run. Harry watched on with pity as Ron did everything he could to shield or avoid the shots firing from Draco's wand. He wasn't that good before, I could take him for sure, but he got a lot better with that wand over the summer… but how? Harry's thoughts were broken as Malfoy's disarming charm hit Ron square in the chest sending the fifth-year Gryffindor stumbling to the ground, his wand flying from his hand, only for Malfoy to throw it back to him like it was a pile of garbage. "Pathetic, Weasley," Draco sneered, "Shouldn't have expected anything better from a blood-traitorous swine like you. You and your family disgust me. Your sister must be grateful she's not-"

Ron growled rising to his feet, and without a word, a red bolt fired from Ron's wand sending Malfoy flying back as well, the Slytherin's wand left discarded on the ground as Ron snarled, "Never, talk about my sister again, you piece of shit."

Harry stepped in front of Daphne, the magic inside of Malfoy's body flowing strangely. Harry had wanted to call out for Ron, but whether it was by sheer accident, or not, a bolt of orange flames erupted from Draco's hand. Ron ducked, barely avoiding a painful singing, but Harry' book bag that had been left resting atop his desk had not been so lucky. "What the hell is wrong with you!" Tracey shouted on, "You could have actually hurt him!"

Draco snarled and Harry's eyes locked hard upon the Slytherin who rose recovering his wand and reaching for his bag, "This is worthless," Draco spat as he pushed through the crowd. Draco's eyes had turned to steel daggers as he glared back at Harry, a feeling of murderous intent radiating off Draco. It didn't matter that Harry knew the boy to be weaker than him, the hairs on his body rising at the boy's presence. Something's wrong with him. I've never seen Draco like this.

Harry had turned to Snape expecting him to do something, but the former potions master remained silent, watching as Draco exited the classroom. For a moment, there was nothing, a stillness overtook the air as some students found even breathing difficult, then, Snape broke the peace, "Class dismissed. And Mr. Potter, please put out your fire."

Snape's presence felt uncomfortable to him, he too was radiating with some strange feeling magic, though considering the mark on his arm, Harry knew not to think too highly of the Professor before him. Harry lifted his wand, extinguishing the flames, though as he opened the bag, he saw his potions and charms book had been burned beyond repair. His thoughts escaped the book, however, as he watched Tracey and Blaise head to Ron's side, helping him to his feet, as Harry heard Ron distantly mutter, "What's his problem?"

Harry turned to face Snape, his eyes falling upon the greasy-git's, but instantly Harry was forced to abandon his legilimency probe. More than anyone Harry had ever seen before, Snape's mind was an impenetrable fortress. Without another moment's hesitation, Harry picked up his singed bag, before exiting the room, Daphne in tow. "You can borrow my potions book if you want, I'm sure Slughorn wouldn't mind us sharing considering we're part of his 'Slug Club'," Daphne said with a warm smile.

"Something's wrong here," Harry said as his feet carried him down the corridor, "I can't explain it, but everything just feels off. Draco, Snape, Slughorn, Dumbledore, everyone just seems so suspicious. No wonder people think he's mad, if this is how Moody thinks about every situation, I can't blame him." Daphne squeezed his hand comfortingly, as Harry shoved the thoughts into the back of his mind, "Questions for another time," Harry said with a tired sigh, "The quicker we finish with Slughorn, the quicker we can get lunch. I don't know about you, but-"

"You're starving," Daphne finished for him with a chuckle, "Yeah, yeah, what else is new."

(Daphne P.O.V)

Daphne had always considered herself a girl that had felt she could keep calm under dire circumstances, but the glare that Draco had shot Harry at the end of their earlier Defense Against the Dark Arts class had made Daphne feel the need to possibly reconsider her stance. Harry and Michael had once said that not everyone had the innate ability to sense magic, and even of those who could, it required a clear presence of mind to do so. If she were to be honest, Daphne wasn't certain she met either of those requirements, but for a split second, she swore she could sense the Prince of Slytherin's magic, and it had felt like hatred personified.

Though Draco's glare hadn't been the only thing to unnerve her that day, as the gloomy dungeons she'd grown so accustomed to somehow felt different. More light illuminated the halls, and as Daphne approached the in session class of Slughorn, she could swear that for the first time in her life she heard laughter coming from inside the stone room.

Daphne had intended on patiently waiting for Slughorn's previous class to be dismissed, but it seemed that Harry had just managed to walk into view of the open door, instantly becoming the subject of Slughorn's undivided attention. "Harry, my boy!" Slughorn called out, breaking Harry out of his trance, "Surprised to see you so early, I thought class had another ten minutes."

Daphne quickly peered into view, making Slughorn's smile grow even brighter as she replied, "It does, but Professor Snape ended class early after a bit of a mishap," Daphne said softly.

"Ah, well that is to be expected with Severus teaching a new class for the first time," Slughorn said warmly, "Well no need to stand on ceremony, please come in, I believe both of you will be in my N.E.W.T level potions class next year anyway, may as well get a jump start, wouldn't you agree?"

Having no other option, Daphne and Harry entered the Potion's class, though Daphne hardly recognized the place given the added illumination and sparks of Hogwarts Colors that Slughorn had adorned along the room. Truthfully, however, Daphne was a bit intrigued by what was being taught at the N.E.W.T level and had instantly become captivated by the clear bottle in Slughorn's hand. "Oh yes," Slughorn said warmly, "Where was I. Katie Bell was it? I believe it is you who brewed the best Draught of Living Death this class, the vial of Felix Felicis is yours."

"Thank you Professor," Katie said, taking the vial, earning the scowl of everyone in the room before smiling at Harry who waved back and returning to her seat. "Professor, if I may make a suggestion. Do you remember the potion you showed us this morning? Perhaps you should ask Daphne and Harry to smell it. I think they would work as a perfect example of its power."

Daphne watched as Harry's brow furrowed, the Boy-Who-Lived glancing at Katie in confusion who simply smiled. "Ah brilliant idea Ms. Bell, would you be so kind as to volunteer, Mr. Potter, , there may be house points available should you accept."

Daphne simply shrugged as Harry sighed, "Well I suppose I should at least try to earn some of the points Snape took back," Harry said with a chuckle, a notion that radiated among the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Sixth Years, "What do you want me to smell?"

Slughorn bounded over towards a bubbling cauldron, the liquid a flowing and bubbling basin of pink. "Over here if you would be so kind." Daphne stepped forward with Harry by her side. "Now, Ms. Greengrass, take a whiff of this potion, but don't say what it smells like until I say to reveal it." Daphne nodded stepping forward inhaling the potion's fumes deeply before pulling away, her nose instantly sensing the familiar smell of Cedar and Green Apple.

"Now you Mr. Potter," Slughorn said as Harry replicated her action. "If you'd be so kind, please tell us what you both smelled."

"Cedar and Green Apple, kind of like your cologne," Daphne whispered, turning to Harry.

Though Harry looked lost, "Are you sure you're feeling alright?" He whispered, "I definitely smelt something lemony, kinda like your shampoo."

An audible awe filled the air as Slughorn simply smiled, "Ah, young love is quite the beautiful thing. What you two just smelled was-"

"Amortentia," Daphne said, her eyes widening, "Love potion. I knew I recognized the color." Her face had gone as pink as the potion upon releasing the scent Harry recognized was her own, the eyes of the sixth years in the class falling upon them.

"Yes, yes, well done," Slughorn said, "Five points to both Slytherin and Gryffindor for helping display such a unique property of this potion. I hope you all understand now why I believe this potion to be one of the most dangerous ones in existence. To mimic feelings of love and adoration, is certainly a powerful tool, and one that is not easily detectable." Slughorn pulled on his coat proudly, "But I do believe that is all the time we have here today, you all know your assigned reading for next class. Now off you go, I do have another group of students coming in."

Daphne's eyes followed Katie as she approached them with a smile, "Sorry for jumping you two like that, it was just too cute of an opportunity to miss. Try not to hate me," She said with a smile.

"A little warning next time, Bell," Harry said with a light smile, "But it's fine, don't worry about it. See you around?" Katie nodded warmly before exiting the class, Daphne gazing as her Boyfriend's focus shifted to Slughorn, "Uh, professor, the incident that Daphne was telling you about actually ended up damaging my textbook for this class. You don't happen to have any spares do you?"

"If I do they might be tucked somewhere in those back cabinets." Slughorn said, "But don't worry, we're brewing a rather simple potion today. It's the Draught of Peace, and I'd be more than happy to assist you during the process."

"I'm actually quite familiar with the potion," Daphne said with a gentle smile, shifting her eyes towards Harry, "You can borrow my book, I'll go see what I can find in the cabinets." Quickly Daphne pulled her potions book from her bag, dropping in onto Harry's hands as she sped towards the back. Snape had never allowed the students to check the cabinets. And while Daphne hardly considered herself as nosy as her sister, her innate curiosity had been peaked by the Slytherin Head of House for years.

Daphne pulled the cabinet open, finding all sorts of dusty books, some seeming to date back to the 1800's and classes that were no longer offered at the school. Though of all the old books, one seemed to scream out to her. An old, and rather tattered looking copy of Advanced Potion Making. Daphne had remembered looking for this book in her youth, yet never being able to purchase a copy due to her age. Stealing was wrong, she knew that, but given the fact that the book looked as if it had gone untouched for nearly thirty years, she had a feeling nobody was going to miss it as she shoved the book into her belongings before turning and finding an older copy of the O.W.L. Potion Making. Daphne turned with a smile, tossing the book to Harry who handed hers back. "It's an older copy, but I think it'll work."

"Excellent," Slughorn said with a clap, "Well, now that we have that all sorted, I encourage you to find your seats, normally I assign them alphabetically, but feel free to sit wherever you'd like." Daphne smiled as she took Harry by the wrist guiding him to a work bench near the front.

"Do we have to sit up here?" Harry whispered softly to Daphne.

"If you want information, you're going to have to butter him up," Daphne said, "Just follow my lead, okay? If your potion skills impress him enough you'll be one step closer to your objective of prying the truth from him."

"You always have a plan, don't you, Princess."

"I do indeed," Daphne said with a half smile.

The class had filled rapidly with each student aside from herself and Harry quickly being assigned a seat and partner. Though perhaps not all that unbelievably, but certainly suspicious, Draco had not bothered to turn up for potions either. A fact that seemed to have most deeply disappointed Slughorn who spoke once everyone had arrived. "Welcome students!" He began as warmly as he could, "Today we shall begin by allowing me to gain a general idea of where exactly each of you are at in your potion making ability. The recipe for this class's potion is found on page two-hundred and thirty-five, and is called the Draught of Peace."

The sound of rapidly opened books filled the air as students quickly skimmed the pages, "Now, while this is intended to be a diagnostic examination of sorts, should you feel stuck, please feel free to ask me for assistance. It is after all, my job." Surprised murmuring from the Gryffindors filled the air as Slughorn smiled hearing the undercurrent of compliments, "You will all have until the end of class to complete your potions, you are now free to start."

Diligence was not exactly a trait that Daphne would have ascribed to Harry the day they had first met, and yet, so much had changed since the idiot had spilled her mint chocolate chip ice cream in the center of Diagon Alley. Her eyes watched in sheltered awe at the way Harry's knife crushed the porcupine quills on the flat end. The cauldron had begun to bubble orange as Daphne turned, "I need the-,"

She didn't even have to finish her sentence as Harry spun, a container containing the powdered unicorn horn in his hand. She smiled taking the powder dumping it into the potion. Daphne felt her back brush against Harry's, the two sending each other a gentle glance, "Think you can keep up if we start moving a bit faster, Flyboy?"

"Bring it, Princess," Harry said with a chuckle, the two flying through their work. Daphne couldn't help but smirk at the reactions the two had garnered from the surrounding workstations. Bickering filled the room as other pairs barked orders at each other, yet aside from the playful comment, she and Harry worked in silence. They didn't need words.

Daphne quickly reached her hand back, finding Harry's the hellebore essence vial transferring ownership with ease. Five, six, seven, Daphne whispered in her mind, the drops of the essence mingling with the now white potion before in unison the two lifted their hands, signaling for Slughorn's attention, "Done!"

Slughorn had looked just about ready to faint as he glanced upon her and Harry's confident grins. "My word, you two certianly finished fast." The large Potion Master approached the cauldron, watching with a smile as a silvery vapor began to rise from the pot of simmering white liquid. "Merlin's Beard, it's perfect, I don't see even the slightest hint of discoloration, and to produce one so fast, I must say, you certainly inherited your mother's potion making ability."

"Thank you sir," Harry said with a quick nod, "But I can't really take the credit. If it wasn't for Daphne mine would have probably-," A large explosion erupted from Seamus' cauldron as his robes began to burn… "Exploded," Harry finished weakly as Slughorn raced towards Seamus extinguishing the flames.

"Ah, quite humble now," Slughorn said with a smile, "Very well, five points to both Gryffindor and Slytherin. You two are free to go, it was a pleasure having you in my class, Mr. Potter, Ms. Greengrass."

Harry nodded gently before Daphne took his hand, the two leaving the potions classroom, the door slamming behind him. "Well," Daphne said softly, "We have half an hour before class is over, any idea on what you want to do?"

"Fly with me," Harry said quickly.

"What?" Daphne said with a stutter. "Harry, you know I don't like brooms."

"Please, it'll just be for a little bit, and we won't do anything crazy," Harry said, his eyes growing in a puppy dog pout. "I haven't been able to fly all summer, and I'd have a lot more fun doing it with you."

Daphne sighed, "Fine, just stop looking at me like that!"

Harry chuckled at his victory.

She shook her head with amusement, "You are so lucky you're cute, Flyboy."

(Dumbledore P.O.V)

Dumbledore paced steadily along the carpeted ground of his office, his fingers rubbing deeply into his temples as he attempted to construct a winnable situation in his mind. It seemed to him that Harry and Slughorn had already made themselves well acquainted with one another, with Harry even agreeing to join the man's 'Slug Club', and yet, it was Snape's words that haunted him. "The boy is different," that is all that Severus had said to open the report of their plan. Dumbledore was delighted that Harry now possessed control over the very wand he held in his undamaged hand, and yet, there were far too many variables in the Potter boy's past to make a calculated decision for his next move.

Yet, Harry only consisted of half of the man's woes. The other belonged to none other than Draco Malfoy. Dumbledore had hoped and hoped that the young man would not follow his father's path, but the boy had chosen to walk the path of darkness, and Dumbledore could sense no light in the boy. If it was possible to be found, it was under layers of pain, anger, and hatred.

Dumbledore looked down at his blackened hand, cursing himself for his foolishness. His time of death was near. Be it by the curse, by Draco, or preferably, Draco's proxy, his death was imminent. Dumbledore had hoped for the chance to mold Harry, to turn him into the soldier he needed the boy to be, but the facts were evident. Harry had beaten every single one of his tactics, and with his timetable before him, he no longer needed Harry to simply be a soldier, he needed Harry to be a general, and generals required knowledge of their opponents.

He pushed his quandaries down, the presence of Harry's far more formidable magic was glowing from beyond the door. The fifth-year Gryffindor's knuckles knocked against the door, before, with a wave of his hand, Albus allowed the boy entry. Seeing Harry alone and up close had really made it perfectly clear how much the boy had changed. The boy stood straighter, his hair longer, his body broader, and his magic, while not exactly rivaling his own quite yet, had grown exponentially. "Harry, my boy, I hope your summer abroad did you well, I-"

"Well, you haven't tried to look into my head yet, so that's good," Harry replied blankly, cutting the Headmaster off. "Look, Professor Dumbledore. Over the summer, I've been trying very hard to be a pragmatic person. I don't trust you, and frankly, I don't quite like you either. But you have answers that I need. I'm here for business, that's it."

Dumbledore sighed, "I suppose that is reasonable. I do apologize for everything that I've put you through these past two years, but I give you my word, I have no reason to try and deceive you any longer."

"I've heard that before," Harry scoffed, "Why should I believe you now?"

Without a word, Dumbledore removed his hand from his robe, the black and burned hand revealing itself to the boy. Dumbledore remained passive as he watched the boy step back, clearly feeling the radianting dark magic from his curse, the black matter from his hand already encompassing his wrist. "I'm dead, Harry. There is nothing left for me to do here on this earth but to be truthful. The fact of the matter is, I most likely only have until the end of this year."

"What kind of curse is that?" Harry whispered out, his voice fighting hard to contain his tremble, "And what do you mean you're going to die? What if I'm not enough to take care of Voldemort? Who is going to keep fighting if I fail? What-"

"I'm sorry Harry," Dumbledore whispered, "I've dropped so many burdens upon you, the burden of fighting Voldemort, a problem I should have taken care of before it grew so large being the most prominent. But I will do everything in my power to ensure you are ready. It is for that reason that I have brought Slughorn back to the castle, and it is for the same reason that you stand in this room today." Dumbledore watched as Harry's eyes hardened in confusion, "I'm not here to teach you some spectacular spell, nor am I here to teach you how to lead. I am doing now, what I promised Sirius I would do the day I first found you. I'm here to provide my advice, and even more relevantly, I'm here to provide you all the information I have collected on Tom."

Dumbledore waved his hand, guiding Harry's eyes to a golden castle statue that opened, doubling as a container for all his memories. "These are memory vials," Harry said approaching the golden statue, "All of them are yours?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, Harry. And through these memories, I hope that you will be able to assist me in solving a rather important mystery."

"That mystery being?" Harry asked softly.

"How it is that Voldemort managed to return in the first place," Dumbledore started, "Though I'm afraid I only have half of the answer, the other, remains locked in the mind of Horace Slughorn. That will come in time, however, even if we managed to retrieve the man's memory now, it would be useless to you. I only hope that you will indulge me tonight in showing you a little bit of backstory on the man you know as Voldemort. Only then will we be able to truly begin to solve the riddle of Tom's seemingly immortality."

Harry nodded, though it was far from confident, something that he knew was about as good of a reply as he was going to get. Dumbledore turned to a crystal-like screen, placing his hand upon it as it began to separate, revealing nothing but a stone, rune covered tabletop, a silvery bowl resting atop it. "Tell me, Harry, do you know what this is?"

"A pensieve," Harry replied, a gentle grin growing across Dumbledore's face, "It's the magical item that makes viewing memories possible in the first place. But if we are going to be viewing memories, I guess the most prominent question to ask is, where are we starting?"

"To truly understand the history of your opponent, we will begin with a short trip down Bob Ogden's memory lane...he died some time ago, but not before I had tracked him down and persuaded him to confide these recollections to me. We are about to accompany him on a visit he made in the course of his duties. If you would be so kind as to stand beside me Harry, diving into memories simultaneously requires some rather specific timing." The boy walked slowly to his side as Dumbledore nodded, "Good, now, on the count of three, we must plunge our heads into the liquid." Harry nodded as Dumbledore entered the silver memory essence into the basin before the count began, then, on the count of three, they plunged.

He and Harry had managed to land rather gracefully into the dense woods that surrounded the small area of Little Hangleton, it hadn't taken long before Dumbledore saw Harry's eyes fall upon a half-hidden building tangled among the tree trunks. The shack hadn't changed during Dumbledore's most recent visit in the least, still as small, dilapidated, and filth ridden as ever, though Dumbledore did feel a pang of sadness in his heart as he saw the sunken eyes of the young girl that looked longingly in the distance towards the manor Dumbledore knew to be there.

As they walked closer the sound of hissing filled the air, Dumbledore had worked long and hard to learn the complex dialogue of the serpents, and Harry seemed to be listening in as well as the voice of Marvolo Gaunt hissed out, "Girl, get away from the window before I drag you off it by your neck. You better not be looking at the muggle boy again, members of the House of Gaunt don't associate with bloody muggles. If I catch you doing it again, I'll gouge out your eyes."

Dumbledore reached forward, clasping Harry's shoulder stopping him, the boy turning to him with disgruntled eyes, "We are only in a memory, a memory more than a half-century in the past, there is nothing we can do for her." Dumbledore watched on as the short and plump man before him approached the shack calmly. "This is Bob Ogden, he works for the Ministry of Magic, or at least, he did. On this mission, he was sent to alert the Gaunts that their son, Morfin has broken wizarding law."

Dumbledore watched as Harry's eyes followed the spectacled man towards the door, the knocking of the man's fist rattling the whole shack. "Who goes there!" The rather gravely voice of Marvolo Gaunt called out.

"My name is Bob Odgen, I've come with a summon for your son, Mr. Gaunt. I'm certain you already know what it's about." The door swung open quickly revealing a rather elderly man, his long arms dangling as a tight scowl appeared across his wrinkled face.

"Summons!" Marvolo roared, "Who are you to make demands of us."

"I'm head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad," Bob Ogden said in a calm and even tone.

"And you think we're scum, do you? Scum who'll come running when the Ministry tells 'em to? Do you know who you're talking to, you filthy little Mudblood, do you?" The man hissed furiously.

"I was under the impression that I was speaking to Mr Gaunt," Ogden said unflinchingly as he gazed past the hideous gleam of the Gaunt patriarch, "May I come in?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes as the sound of a dropping pan rattled through the air as Marvolo turned looking back into the kitchen, "Pick it up! That's it, grub on the floor like some filthy Muggle, what's your wand for, you useless sack of muck?"

"Why isn't Ogden doing anything, he's clearly getting violent towards the girl, shouldn't he be helping her?" Harry asked, the boy's fist tight in frustration.

"I'm sure he would, if he could understand what Marvolo was saying," Dumbledore said, earning a confused glance from Harry, "Look at the man again, do you see anything familiar?"

Dumbledore watched as Harry scanned, a minor feeling of pride swelled in DUmbledore's chest as the boy quickly noticed the locket that rested upon Marvolo's neck. "That looks exactly like the locket that Sirius described to me. And that's a snake- Parseltongue, they're speaking parseltongue... Wait," Harry said with a pause, "You can understand Parseltongue?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Very difficult language to decipher if not born with the gift. Though it is not that surprising when you consider that you are looking at a descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself, and the grandfather of Tom Riddle, Marvolo Gaunt." The boy's eyes instantly widened as the scene around them changed, the minister pushing past Marvolo to enter the home.

Once more Dumbledore felt his heart sink, "You see, Merope Gaunt, lived a rather unfortunate life. Not gifted with magic, and never being allowed to be sent to Hogwarts for fear of embarrassing her family's name, she was left to be abused relentlessly by her father and brother. Descendants of a powerful magical line, yes, but lacking in all heart. Though Merope, she had the opposite problem, no magical power, but great capacity to love, though unable to handle the fear of rejection."

Dumbledore's attention shifted back to Marvolo who had begun shouting as Ogden attempted to remain calm, "Mr. Gaunt, as I've said: the reason for my visit-"

"I heard you the first time! And so what? Morfin gave a Muggle a bit of what was coming to him – what about it, then?" Marvolo hissed furiously.

"Morfin has broken wizarding law," Ogden continued.

"Morfin has broken wizarding law," Marvolo parroted with child-like impetuance, "He taught a filthy Muggle a lesson, that's illegal now, is it?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is," Ogden pressed forward, shoving the summons into Marvolo's hand, "Look, Mr. Gaunt, I don't want any more trouble, I just came here to do my job. Please have Morfin appear at the ministry in time for his summons. Else we will be forced to come take him in ourselves, that isn't a blemish you want on your family."

"Is that a threat!" Marvolo roared, "You dare to threaten me in my own home! The Gaunts are a noble and powerful bloodline! Descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin himself!" Dumbledore himself began to feel unnerved as the ring that had blackened his hand was waved before the Ministry Official's eyes, "Now, get out of my face before I remove you by force!"

"Father, please, we don't-," Merope had started before a Revulsion Jinx sprang from Marvolo's wand, blocked only in the knick of time by Odgen's shielding charm.

"No daughter of mine could ever love a filthy muggle!" Marvolo roared the vein in his head pounding as he turned to face the Auror, "And you, to think you have the gall to use your wand in my house!" Dumbledore watched as Harry stared on in disbelief, hissed incantations forcing spell after spell at the auror who fled the shack, before with a snap the man apparated.

Dumbledore felt a pull in his stomach that released him from the memory, he and Harry escaping the pool as the shocked expression had remained visible on Harry's face for mere seconds before the boy turned passive once more. "Quite the memory, wouldn't you agree?"

"I have so many questions, I have no idea where to start," Harry said with a tired sigh as Dumbledore led them back to his desk.

"Come, take a seat," Dumbledore said, Harry doing it without protest as the Headmaster offered the boy a lemon drop. "As I promised I will do my best to answer any questions you may have, in return, I ask only that you help me in my task of retrieving the missing puzzle pieces from Professor Slughorn's memories." Harry nodded as Dumbledore sat back in his chair, "Begin whenever you are ready Harry, I will answer every question you may have to the best of my abilit