Harry nodded. Silence fell between them again, Dumbledore extracting thoughts every now and then. Harry felt as though he ought to go, but his curiosity held him in his chair.
“Professor?” he said again.
“Yes, Harry?” said Dumbledore.
“Er… could I ask you about… that court thing I was in… in the Pensieve?”
“You could,” said Dumbledore heavily. “I attended it many times, but some trials come back to me more clearly than others… particularly now…”
“You know—you know the trial you found me in? The one with Crouch’s son? Well…were they talking about Neville’s parents?”
Dumbledore gave Harry a very sharp look. “Has Neville never told you why he has been brought up by his grandmother?” he said.
Harry shook his head, wondering, as he did so, how he could have failed to ask Neville this, in almost four years of knowing him.
“Yes, they were talking about Neville’s parents,” said Dumbledore. “His father, Frank, was an Auror just like Professor Moody. He and his wife were tortured for information about Voldemort’s whereabouts after he lost his powers, as you heard.”
“So they’re dead?” said Harry quietly.
“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.”
Harry sat there, horror struck. He had never known… never, in four years, bothered to find out…
“The Longbottoms were very popular,” said Dumbledore. “The attacks on them came after Voldemort’s fall from power, just when everyone thought they were safe. Those attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known. The Ministry was under great pressure to catch those who had done it. Unfortunately, the Longbottoms’ evidence was—given their condition—none too reliable.”
“Then Mr. Crouch’s son might not have been involved?” said Harry slowly.
Dumbledore shook his head.
“As to that, I have no idea.”
Harry sat in silence once more, watching the contents of the Pensieve swirl. There were two more questions he was burning to ask… but they concerned the guilt of living people…
“Er,” he said, “Mr. Bagman…”
“…has never been accused of any Dark activity since,” said Dumbledore calmly.
“Right,” said Harry hastily, staring at the contents of the Pensieve again, which were swirling more slowly now that Dumbledore had stopped adding thoughts. “And… er…” But the Pensieve seemed to be asking his question for him.
Snape’s face was swimming on the surface again. Dumbledore glanced down into it, and then up at Harry.