Chapter Thirty:
The Pensieve
"I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply
have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."
Synopsis by William Silvester
Notes and links by Michele L. Worley
U.S. hardcover edition: pages 581 - 604
U.K. hardcover edition: pages 505 - 525
U.K. paperback edition: pages 631 - 656
Timeframe:
xx,
1995
[Y15]
In which Harry, left alone in
Dumbledore's office,
sees some glimpses of the past in
Dumbledore's
Pensieve;
Karkaroff giving evidence before a court of wizards,
Crouch's son being sentenced to Azkaban. Harry tells Dumbledore
about his dream, and the headmaster speculates on its meaning.
Interesting facts and notes about the text of this chapter:
The Pensieve
is a brilliant plot device, allowing JKR to show rather than tell the reader
about various events for which Harry
was not a direct witness without sacrificing the use of
Harry as the viewpoint character.
Note that JKR has employed an interesting means of providing exposition
to the reader: Karkaroff, spilling his guts to the Ministry of Magic
in his desperation to avoid a life sentence in Azkaban. If Dementors don't
provide a plausible motivation for a character to tell everything he knows,
it's hard to say what does.
This chapter, thanks to Karkaroff's testimony, is one of the main sources
of information about the Death Eaters and their crimes during the first war
against Voldemort. Others include
GF27 and OP9.
He had been inside
Dumbledore's office
once before...
...it was a very beautiful, circular room, lined with
pictures of previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts,
all of whom were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling gently.
"Harry!" said Fudge jovially, moving forward.
"How are you?"
...looking at Dumbledore, who gave him a swift, searching look.
Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, was standing on his golden perch
beside the door. The size of a swan, with magnificent scarlet-and-gold
plumage, he swished his long tail and blinked benignly at Harry.
Harry sat down in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. For several minutes,
he sat and watched the old headmasters and headmistresses snoozing in their
frames...
Harry hesitated, glanced at Fawkes...
A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge:
runes and symbols that Harry did not recognize.
The silvery light was coming from the basin's contents, which were like
nothing Harry had ever seen before. He could not tell whether the substance
was liquid or gas. It was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving
ceaselessly; the surface of it became ruffled like water beneath wind, and
then, like clouds, separated and swirled smoothly. It looked like light made
liquid - or like wind made solid - Harry couldn't make up his mind.
He wanted to touch it, to find out what it felt like, but nearly four years'
experience of the magical world told him that sticking his hand into a bowl
full of some unknown substance was a very stupid thing to do. He therefore
pulled his wand out of the inside of his robes...
The surface of the silvery stuff inside the basin began to swirl very fast...
The silvery substance had become transparent; it looked like glass.
He looked down into it expecting to see the stone bottom of the basin - and
saw instead an enormous room below the surface of the mysterious substance,
a room into which he seemed to be looking through a circular window in the
ceiling.
An empty chair stood in the very center of the room. There was something about
the chair that gave Harry an ominous feeling.
Not one of the witches and wizards in the room (and there were at least two
hundred of them) was looking at him.
Once before, Harry had found himself somewhere that nobody could see or hear
him. That time, he had fallen through a page in an enchanted diary, right into
somebody else's memory . . . and unless he was very much mistaken, something of
the sort had happened again...
And that, in Harry's opinion, settled the matter. Dumbledore wouldn't ignore
him like that.
Harry looked around more carefully. The room, as he had suspected when
observing it from above, was almost certainly underground - more of a dungeon
than a room, he thought.
There was a bleak and forbidding air about the place; there were no pictures
on the walls...
The door in the corner of the dungeon opened and three people entered - or at
least one man, flanked by two Dementors.
Harry looked down at the man
now sitting in the chair and saw that it was
Karkaroff. Unlike
Dumbledore,
Karkaroff
looked much younger; his hair and goatee were black.
He was not dressed in sleek furs, but in thin and ragged robes.
Even as Harry watched, the chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold
and snaked their way up Karkaroff's arms, binding him there.
Crouch's hair was dark, his face was much less 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."
He did not have his magical eye, but two normal ones.
[Crouch]'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.
"You must understand," said Karkaroff hurriedly, "that
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named operated always in the greatest secrecy...we
never knew the names of every one of our fellows - He alone knew exactly
who we all were -"
"Which was a wise move, wasn't it, as it prevented someone like you,
Karkaroff, from turning all of them in," muttered Moody.
"There was Antonin Dolohov," he said. "I - I saw him torture
countless Muggles and - and non-supporters of the Dark Lord."
"And helped him do it," murmured Moody.
"We have already apprehended Dolohov," said Crouch. "He was
caught shortly after yourself."
"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."
"Took a bit of me with him, though," whispered Moody to Harry's right.
Harry looked around at him once more, and saw him indicating the large chunk out
of his nose to Dumbledore.
There was Travers - he helped murder the McKinnons!
Mulciber - he specialized in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people
to do horrific things!
"Rookwood, who was a spy, and passed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named useful
information from inside the Ministry itself!"
Light thickens, and the crow
makes wing to the rooky wood.
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse,
whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
"Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?"
"The very same," said Karkaroff eagerly. "I believe he
used a network of well-placed wizards, both inside the Ministry and out,
to collect information -"
"But Travers and Mulciber we have," said Mr. Crouch.
"Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side
before Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy for us, at great
personal risk."
"He is now no more a Death Eater than I am."
Harry turned to look at Mad-Eye Moody. He was wearing a look of deep
skepticism behind Dumbledore's back.
His nose wasn't broken now; he was tall and lean and muscular.
"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 judgment?"
Harry couldn't believe his ears. Ludo Bagman, a Death Eater?
"Only," said Bagman, smiling awkwardly, "well - I know I've
been a bit of an idiot -"
One or two wizards and witches in the surrounding seats smiled indulgently.
Mr. Crouch did not appear to share their feelings. He was staring down at
Ludo Bagman with an expression of the utmost severity and dislike.
"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 -"
"Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad's . . . never crossed my mind
he was in with You-Know-Who!"
"I thought I was collecting information for our side!"
"And Rookwood kept talking about getting me a job in the Ministry
later on ... once my Quidditch days are over, you know ..."
"We'd just like to congratulate Mr. Bagman on his splendid performance for
England in the Quidditch match against Turkey last Saturday," the witch
said breathlessly.
Rookwood get him a job indeed...The day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a sad day
indeed for the Ministry...
There was a thickset man who stared blankly up at Crouch; a thinner and more
nervous-looking man, whose eyes were darting around the crowd...
...a woman with thick, shining dark hair and heavily hooded eyes, who was
sitting in the chained chair as though it were a throne...
...and a boy in his late teens, who looked nothing short of petrified.
He was shivering, his straw-colored hair all over his face, his
freckled skin milk-white.
"We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused
of capturing an Auror - Frank Longbottom - and subjecting him to the
Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts
of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named -"
"You are further accused," bellowed Mr. Crouch, "of using the
Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom's 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 -"
"I now ask the jury," shouted Mr. Crouch, "to raise their hands
if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in
Azkaban!"
In unison, the witches and wizards along the right-hand side of the dungeon
raised their hands. The crowd around the walls began to clap as it had for
Bagman, their faces full of savage triumph. The boy began to scream.
The boys' three companions rose quietly from their seats; the woman with the
heavy-lidded eyes looked up at Crouch and called, "The Dark Lord will rise
again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again
and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters!
We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!"
"I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have
too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind...At these times,"
said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. One
simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin,
and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and
links, you understand, when they are in this form."
"D'you - d'you know why my scar's hurting me?"
Dumbledore looked very intently at Harry for a moment, and then said, "I
have a theory, no more than that. ... It is my belief that your scar hurts both
when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong
surge of hatred."
"But. . . why?"
"Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed," said
Dumbledore. "That is no ordinary scar."
"So you think . . . that dream . . . did it really happen?"
"It is possible," said Dumbledore. "I would say - probable."
"Harry - did you see Voldemort?"
"No," said Harry. "Just the back of his chair. But - there
wouldn't have been anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn't got a body,
has he? But. . . but then how could he have held the wand?"
Harry said slowly.
"Professor," Harry said at last, "do you think he's getting
stronger?"
"Voldemort?" said Dumbledore, looking at Harry over the Pensieve.
It was the characteristic, piercing look Dumbledore had given him on other
occasions, and always made Harry feel as though Dumbledore were seeing right
through him in a way that even Moody's magical eye could not.
"And there was a third disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to
say, do not consider of any importance, for it concerns a Muggle. His name
was Frank Bryce, he lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up, and
he has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspapers,
unlike most of my Ministry friends."
"No," said Dumbledore, his voice full of a bitterness Harry had never
heard there before. "They are insane. They are both in St. Mungo's
Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe Neville visits them,
with his grandmother, during the holidays. They do not recognize him."
Dumbledore was standing over the Pensieve, his face lit from beneath by its
silvery spots of light, looking older than ever. He stared at Harry for a
moment, and then said, "Good luck with the third task."
Characters introduced in this chapter:
Characters returning in this chapter:
Bagman, Ludo
(in Pensieve only)
Crouch, Bartemius (senior)
(in Pensieve only)
Dumbledore, Albus
Fawkes
Fudge, Cornelius
Jorkins, Bertha
(in Pensieve only)
Karkaroff, Igor
(in Pensieve only)
Moody, Alastor "Mad-Eye"
(in Pensieve only)
Potter, Harry
Skeeter, Rita
(in Pensieve only)
Snape, Severus
(in Pensieve only)
Characters mentioned in this chapter:
Bagman, Mr.
(Ludo's father)
Bryce, Frank
Dolohov, Antonin
Florence
Gryffindor, Godric
Longbottom, Alice
Longbottom, Frank
Longbottom, Mrs. "Gran"
Longbottom, Neville
Maxime, Olympe
the McKinnons
Mulciber
Pettigrew, Peter (as Wormtail)
Rookwood, Augustus
Rosier, Evan
Travers
Voldemort
(as 'the Dark Lord', 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', 'You-Know-Who')
(name unknown) gushing witch at Bagman's trial
(name unknown) wizard(?) who hexed Bertha as a sixteen-year-old girl
for gossiping about him and Florence
Settings and locations introduced or returning in this chapter:
Settings and locations introduced or returning in this chapter:
Exceptional character moments:
Spells:
Links and Resources:
Memorable lines:
Dumbledore added this fresh thought to the basin, and Harry,
astonished, saw his own face swimming around the surface of
the bowl. Dumbledore placed his long hands on either side
of the Pensieve and swirled it, rather as a gold prospector
would pan for fragments of gold.... and Harry saw his own
face change smoothly into Snape's, who opened his mouth and
spoke to the ceiling, his voice echoing slightly.
"Curiosity is not a sin," he said. "But we
should exercise caution with our curiosity..."
"So, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly. "Before
you got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something."
Strictly British:
Timelines/Calendar:
|