The Enemy of my Enemy

The Memory, Part I

Harry knocked when they reached the top.

"Come in."

Harry pushed open the door and led the way inside. "Good evening, sir," he said.

"Ah, good evening," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Come in and sit down. I hope you've had an enjoyable first week back at school?"

Teddie nodded as she sank into one of the high back chairs.

"Yes, thanks, sir," said Harry.

"You must've been busy, a detention under your belt already."

"Er," Harry hesitated.

"In Harry's defence, Professor," interrupted Teddie. "It was a misunderstanding. It's a natural response to defend oneself when someone else has pointed a wand at you. We're only starting Non-verbal spells, how was Harry supposed to get it right on the first try?"

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence her. "I am not angry, Miss Green," he said, reassuringly. "Merely observing."

"Oh," said Teddie.

Dumbledore smiled at her, still. "I have arrange with Professor Snape that you will do your detention next Saturday instead, Harry," he said.

"Right," said Harry.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, fingers clasped together and resting under his chin. "So, you have probably been wondering, I'm sure, what I have planned for you during these - for wand of a better word - lessons?"

Harry and Teddie nodded. They had each spent time with their respective group of friends, going over different scenarios of what Dumbledore could be teaching them.

"Well, I have decided that it is time, now that you know what prompted Lord Voldemort to try and kill you, Harry, fifteen years ago, for you to be given certain information."

Harry and Teddie shared a sideways glance.

"You said at the end of last year that you were going to tell me everything, sir," said Harry.

"And so, I did," said Dumbledore. "I told you everything I know. From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork. From here on in, I may be as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron."

"But you think you're right?" said Harry.

"Naturally I do, but as I have already proven to you, I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being - forgive me-rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger. "

"Sir," said Harry tentatively, "does what you're going to tell me have anything to do with the prophecy? Will it help me. . . survive?"

"It has a very great deal to do with the prophecy," said Dumbledore, "and I certainly hope that it will help you to survive. "

Dumbledore got to his feet and walked around the desk, past Harry and Teddie, who turned to watch Dumbledore bending over the cabinet beside the door. When Dumbledore straightened up, he was holding a familiar shallow stone basin etched with odd markings around its rim. He placed the Pensieve on the desk in front of the two students.

"You look worried," said Dumbledore.

Teddie shrugged. "Not worried, per sae," she said. "More confused. I don't understand how I am relevant to these lessons. The prophecy spoke of how Harry and Voldemort are linked, and that one must kill the other in the end. I don't understand where I come into it, or even if I do. You speculated that I may be the power mentioned, but you also said there were two other possibilities."