The usual disclaimer applies here. I don't own Harry Potter, although I'd love to. Having more money than the royal family of England after writing four books is a hell of an accomplishment.

Quest for the Missing Horcruxes

By Scott Jewett

Despite the fact that Harry Potter had just lost one of the most important people in his life, and the fact that he was forgoing his last year of school in order to go on what might have been the most difficult quest of all time, he was sleeping surprisingly well.

Not only that, he was dreaming of Quidditch. It was a match against Slytherin, and he had just spotted the Snitch, floating just over the center hoop on the far side of the pitch. Checking to see that Malfoy didn't see it, Harry was off like a shot, a red and gold blur on his Firebolt. He stretched his hand out as he got closer…closer…

"Harry."

Harry stopped dead, much to his surprise. Where had that voice come from?

"Harry, I must speak with you."

It was Dumbledore. There was no doubt about it. But he was dead. He wasn't even in the teachers' box. Harry turned his head to check, just as Draco Malfoy zoomed past him and grabbed the Snitch.

The stands erupted in cheering-mostly on the Slytherin side. Harry stared in shock.

"Harry."

Harry turned his head in the direction of his voice, and nearly fell off his broom. There was Albus Dumbledore, standing right next to him. No small feat, considering he was fifty feet off the ground.

"I'm afraid this dream, entertaining as it is, will have to wait, Harry. There are more important things to discuss."

And just like that, Harry and Dumbledore were in his office. Harry looked around in shock.

"So I'm dreaming. That makes sense. That would be the only way Malfoy could beat me at Quidditch."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I agree, Harry. I'm sure Mr. Malfoy has dreams of that type more often than you do. However, as I said before, there are more important things to talk about."

"Professor?" Harry asked. "Am I dreaming this myself? Or is this your doing?" Dumbledore smiled.

"Harry, I certainly had no wish to die. Especially since Voldemort is powerful again. But when we went to find the Horcrux, I assumed there was powerful magic protecting it…magic, perhaps, that even I couldn't handle. I further assumed that our adventure could result in my being seriously injured, or even killed. So I invoked this particular magic. It's very old, and very powerful. It allows me to be here long enough to give you one last bit of advice before I pass on completely."

"What is it, sir? Is it about the Horcruxes? Do you know where they are now?"

"No, Harry. I'm afraid I don't. I think, however, that you might."

Harry thought for a few seconds, trying to make sense of that.

"I don't think so, sir. I mean, I don't even know what they all are, much less how to find them…except for Nagini."

"I think you might, Harry. Do you recall the conversation we had at the end of last year? I'm sure you remember the way you set about destroying my office."

Harry blushed slightly at the memory. "Yes, sir. I apologize."

"No need, Harry. After all, I hardly need possessions anymore. I want to draw your attention, though, to something I said. I pointed out that Voldemort didn't know what he was getting into when he attempted to kill you. I said, if I remember correctly, that instead of killing you, he gave you powers, and a future."

"Yes, sir, I think that's right. In fact…" Harry drifted off as something occurred to him. "Wait a minute…powers? As in more than one? I mean, I know I'm a Parselmouth because of him…and I guess I'm an unwilling Legilimens where he's concerned…"

"Exactly, Harry! Exactly my point. It seems to me that you might just have the power to find the Horcruxes after all. You may not consciously know it, but the power's there inside you somewhere."

Harry was beginning to pace at this point. Having the power to find the missing Horcruxes would be a valuable weapon in his fight against Voldemort. But if he had the power, how would he find out? And how would he use it?

Dumbledore seemed to read Harry's thoughts. "Harry, you need to go back to Hogwarts. There is a room on the eleventh floor. Third on the right past the statue of Egbert the Extremely Stupid. I believe he's shown trying to cast a spell while pointing his wand at his own head."

"What's in the room?"

"Something you can use to help you…if you know how to use it. I'm sure you do, though. And that, Harry, is where I must leave you."

"NO!" Harry yelled. "You can't go again, Professor!"

Dumbledore smiled gently. "Harry, I'm already gone. I'm afraid that can't be changed. I have to go and join the rest of me, on the other side. I wonder if I've met Merlin yet. I always wanted to…" His voice trailed off as he faded away.

"Professor! No!" Harry reached for him, but he was gone.

Harry snapped awake at the Burrow, tears glistening in his eyes. Quickly, he got dressed and crossed the room to Ron's bed, shaking him.

"Whuuuu…" Ron moaned, half-awake. "Whuzzit, Harry?"

"Ron, get up. And get Hermione. We've got work to do."

A/N: This just hit me at work today…the fact that Dumbledore said "powers", plural. It seemed like a good idea for a story. Read and review, please!