Symphony || Remus Lupin

XX

"What does it do?" She felt her mouth move and she could hear her voice echoing in her brain but she couldn't completely remember asking it.

"It gives us a way to relive our memories. Happy, sad, anything. It gives us a way to find closure." She could hear him stand next to her.

"May I try it?" The words were out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. She blinked and took a step back.

"Sorry, sir." She stated, "That was out of line from me. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I'm-"

"Myra, please put your hands down," Dumbledore said, coming closer to her. She blinked and looked at her hands. They were raised as if trying to stop a blow. She hadn't even remembered doing it. She slowly put them down.

"Sorry, sir." To her surprise, Dumbledore had opened his arm out, directing her to the Pensieve.

"Come," He said, "It can't hurt." He led her to the edge of the bowl.

As she looked into the bowl, she saw swirls of white swimming through the crystal clear water in a bowl that had no bottom. She put her hands on the rim of the bowl and dipped a finger in. It felt like water but when she pulled her finger out, it wasn't wet.

"Would you like to experience your memory or mine?" He asked. Myra looked at him.

"Mine, please." Asking him to use his memories as an example sounded rude and it felt like she was intruding on something. He wasn't offering his own, that much was clear. He asked her if he wanted hers first.

"This may feel strange," He stated, resting his wand against her temple. She flinched, jerking away from the wand before forcing herself to relax, "Think of your happiest memory."

She thought. And she thought. And she thought. Myra knew they were there. She knew that she had many happy memories. But nothing came up. Absolutely nothing. All that came up were memories from the dungeon and the torment she faced.

Myra felt the weight of the wand leave her temple and she opened her eyes, not knowing that she closed them. She watched as a thin strand of light slipped away from her. Strangely, it started vaguely thrashing around, as if it was twitching. Should that be happening?

"Headmaster, I don't think-" But it was too late. Dumbledore had placed the strand of light into the Pensieve and swirled it around with his wand.

"Shall we?" He asked. But he hadn't given her enough time to answer. He had already put his head into the bowl. Reluctantly, unsure of what she was about to face, she put her head in the bowl.

∞-∞-∞

!!xXx!!

She knew where she was. She knew exactly where she was. She had spent four summers here. The problem was, she didn't know which one it was. Myra saw the figure of Dumbledore standing next to her, watching the scene with interest.

"Is this your happiest memory?" He asked. She could hear the slightest tone of worry. Frantically, she shook her head in panic. She didn't know how to get out. She wanted to get out. I need to get out.

There was a ratty and dirty girl crouched in the corner of the dingy room. Her face was covered with bruises, her fingers trembling. There was a dark stain on the front of her rags but she couldn't tell what color it was in the dim room.