Dumbledore could sense the trouble, he knew something was wrong when he heard that Miss LeFey had returned, and he knew that even more trouble was in store when he learned she was in the infirmary.

He was therefore anticipating his meeting with her with a mixed amount of trepidation and frustration. He had always felt the power inside of her and he couldn�t understand why she didn�t just tap into it. He felt for a long time that if anyone was meant to defeat the Dark Lord then it should very well be Harry Potter. Guenivere was slowly changing his mind. Not only did she have the capability, but she had the desire as well. Harry had the desire, and certainly the talent, but not the strength. Maybe together they could end it.

He looked deep into his pensieve, watching the thoughts swirling about the bottom of the bowl. There were so many connections in this bowl, flowing loosely about each other, one decision leading to another, one life bleeding into the next. There was one connection yet that he did not understand, nor did he even notice it clearly. Recent events had brought something to his attention, something from the past. Mage had come back to speak with him briefly, which being rare had alerted him immediately, but current news had also set the thinning hairs on the back of his neck to tingling.

Guenivere�s vision, he felt sure held something of this connection in it, but he couldn�t be completely certain until their meeting, still fifteen minutes away. He had never known Gwen to be punctual during their training over a year prior and was therefore surprised when the young woman timidly cleared her throat a quarter of an hour early, standing sheepishly at the top of the staircase.

She stepped forward, her head a little light. Even after a full day of rest she had not recovered from the blind panic the pain had set her in. She sat in a chair just before the professor�s desk and concentrated quietly at a pile of papers thereon and the strange stone pensieve, avoiding his piercing blue gaze.

�I was expecting we�d have a meeting soon.� He said softly. �I am guessing this has nothing to do with coming back to teaching.�

She nodded. Her composure was riding on the strength of Graves� smile from the previous day. She cleared her throat again, willing the words to trickle down the back of her brain onto her tongue. Finally they came, slow and halting all throughout, with difficulty. The need to get them out however, frosted over any desire to hold them back.

To be Continued in Episode Ninety Seven