Cheryl Dyson

Chapter Thirty Five – Pensieve, Parchment, Party

            Harry wasn’t tired enough to go back to bed and Hermione seemed agitated after their visit with Draco.

            “Never a dull moment with Malfoy, is there?” Harry commented mildly.

            “He’s bloody annoying, exasperating, and impossible to understand,” Hermione snapped.  Harry nodded thoughtfully.  She would never have to worry about a placid, predictable relationship with that one.

            “Want to go up and use the Pensieve before McGonagall wakes up?” he asked.  Hermione nodded and in short order they found themselves standing before the basin.  Harry shook the vial experimentally and dumped it in.

            Strangely, this memory took place outside, near the lake.  Hermione popped into existence next to Harry.  Dumbledore was absently conjuring handfuls of grain and scattering it on the lake for the ducks that greedily snapped up the treat.  Snape, of course, stood beside him.

            “Why didn’t you bring the damned thing to me?” Snape said bitterly.  “It was stupid of you to destroy it alone.  You’re lucky I was able to stop the curse before it took your whole arm.  Or worse.”

            “Will you stop nagging me like a mother hen?” Dumbledore said impatiently, although he raised his withered hand and looked at it with a grimace.  Harry realized with a start that the memory was recent—it must have been right after Dumbledore had destroyed the ring Horcrux.  “I’m aware of my failings.”

            “No, I really don’t think you are,” Snape said with his usual sneer.  “Next time you have the urge to traipse off after a Horcrux, you should bloody well take someone with you.  If you don’t trust me, then take your little Gryffindor hero.  Isn’t it past time you started letting him in on some of your secrets?  The brat’s nearly of age.”

            “I’m certain Harry would agree with you.”

            “Well, that would be a first, wouldn’t it?”  Snape’s black eyes flashed.

            “Why do you hate the boy so much?” Dumbledore asked tiredly and then held up a hand to forestall Snape’s reply.  “Never mind.  I don’t wish to get into another argument about Potters and purebloods and perceived wrongs.  I thought your opinion had softened somewhat, after Sirius.”

            Snape rolled his eyes.  “Not in regards to Potter.  Frankly, I don’t see why you fancy those Gryffindors so much, except for their insane propensity to race headlong into danger without a moment’s thought for the consequences.”  Snape looked pointedly at Dumbledore’s withered hand.  “Rather like you, I suppose.  Gryffindor to the core, are you not?”

            Dumbledore chuckled.  “Guilty as charged.”

            “Yes, well, as Headmaster, I would expect you to place a bit more value on some of the students in Houses other than your own.”

            “Several students joined ‘my Gryffindors’ last year, including some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, I believe.”

            “Yes, well, Cho Chang was smitten with The Boy Who Lived and Luna Lovegood is hardly a prime example of a Ravenclaw.  What of Slytherins?  Are none of them are worthy to stand beside The Chosen One?  Potter’s opinion seems to be quite tainted in that regard.”

            “And who would you choose to stand beside Harry Potter against Voldemort?  Frankly, most of your Slytherin students seem more likely to carry banners proclaiming Voldemort’s imminent reign than stand up to prevent it.”

             “I’ve done my best—“ Snape began.

            “You’ve done your best to encourage the same purebood nonsense they believe Voldemort stands for!” Dumbledore snapped.  Snape’s face flamed.

            “It isn’t nonsense!  My most talented students are purebloods—“

            “As are the most imbecilic!  If purity of bloodline equals talent, then how to you explain Crabbe and Goyle?  Without young Malfoy’s assistance, they would have been tossed out of school years ago!”

            Snape sniffed.  “They have the talent.  They just do not apply themselves.”

            Dumbledore glared at him.  “You are babbling nonsense.  Explain Hermione Granger.”

            It was Snape’s turn to scowl.  “An aberration.  Freak coincidence.”

            Hermione balled up her fists and punched Snape in the stomach.  Her fist went right through the vaporous memory without effect, but Harry grinned, applauding the effort.

            “Aberration.  I’ll give you an aberration, you horrible, small-minded—“ Hermione began, but Harry hushed her in order to hear the rest of the memory.  She folded her arms and glared daggers at Snape.

            Dumbledore dragged his good hand through his hair in a credible imitation of Harry Potter.

            “Enough!  This discussion has not been resolved in over fifteen years.”

            Snape grinned evilly.  “And yet you continue to bring it up.”

            “I keep hoping that you will see the error of your ways,” Dumbledore said sadly.

            “As do I,” Snape replied with a superior air.

            The two were silent for a time and Dumbledore went back to feeding the ducks.  Finally, Snape asked, “Do you intend to go after another Horcrux?”

            “Possibly.”

            “Do you agree that you will not go alone, next time?” Snape asked blandly.  Dumbledore looked at him suspiciously.

            “Out with it, man,” he said.  Snape shook his head.

            “Not without your promise.”

            “Fine.  I promise to take at least one other person on my next Horcrux hunt,” Dumbledore said with finality.

            “Excellent.  Then, I may know where you can find one.”

            Dumbledore stopped feeding the birds and turned his full attention to Snape.

            “There is a cave by the sea…”