An owl swooped down over the Gryffindor table as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting down for breakfast. It dropped a small envelope in front of Harry before returning to the owlery.

"What's this, I wonder…" Harry wondered aloud. He opened it and read, in elaborate handwriting: Come see me in my office as soon as you can. It's important. – Prof. Dumbledore. P.S. I have candy.

"You'd better go, Harry," Hermione said. "If Dumbledore says it's important, it must really be."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Besides, he says he's got candy." Harry got up from the Gryffindor table and made his way to the gargoyle that disguised the staircase to Dumbledore's office.

"Crackfic," Harry said, and the gargoyle jumped aside, revealing a tight spiral staircase. Harry ascended the stairs and opened the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Harry, you've arrived," Dumbledore said. "Good. I need to show you this."

"What is it, professor?" Harry asked.

"I've been doing some thinking, and I think I've figured out what Voldemort's been up to. You need to come see these memories."

Harry walked over to where Dumbledore kept the Penseive. Dumbledore dumped a vial of memory into the basin, and Harry dove in. When the fog cleared, he found himself in Slughorn's office, where a pale, waxy-skinned boy about his age was giving Slughorn the third degree.

"I've been wondering, Professor," he said to Slughorn. "I read the word 'Horcrux' recently, and I thought you might know what it is."

"Yes, but why would you want to know about that, Tom?" Harry instantly realized that the boy was Tom Riddle, a.k.a. Voldemort, a.k.a. Old Noseless.

"Academic curiosity," the benosed Voldemort said.

"Well," Slughorn said, "you've always been a good kid." Then, the words that Slughorn bellowed next didn't match his mouth. "THIS MEMORY HAS ABSOLUTELY NOT BEEN TAMPERED WITH. DON'T EVEN THINK THIS MEMORY HAS BEEN DOCTORED BECAUSE IT TOTALLY HASN'T BEEN."

"Thank you, Professor," Riddle said. "You've been very helpful." Harry then saw the fog surround him again, and he was back in Dumbledore's office.

"I'm guessing you saw the same thing I did when I looked at that memory?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," Harry said, "but for some reason I feel like that memory was tampered with."

"I'm not sure, Harry," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard nervously. "You heard what Slughorn said. It absolutely had not been doctored. I don't know what to think about this. However, I do believe that Voldemort has been using Horcruxes to secure his immortality, putting parts of his soul into important artifacts. We must destroy them all if he is to be finished off for good."

"Sounds tough," Harry said, "but I'm the protagonist, so I guess it's up to me."

"Yep," said Dumbledore. "Now get moving, Harry. I believe you have Potions in ten minutes."

Voldemort and his entourage strode down Diagon Alley. After a long day of sitting in the Malfoys' dining room, the Dark Lord had finally decided that he had shit to do. They didn't stop until they reached Gringotts, where an ugly-ass goblin was descending the marble steps out front.

"You there, goblin," Voldemort said. "I need to enter Gringotts. I have a very important deposit to make."

"Sorry, mate," said the goblin. "Bank closes at five. You'll have to come back tomorrow."

"You don't understand," Voldemort said. "I am the Dark Lord. You will give me entry to the building so that I can deposit this golden cup."

"Sorry," said the goblin. "I can't go against bank policy."

"Avada kedavra!" Voldemort bellowed, and in a flash of green light, the goblin was transformed into a dead goblin.

"Piss," Voldemort hissed. "I let my temper get away from me. Well, I'm sure one of the other accountant monsters will take me down to the Lestrange vault. Bellatrix, I need you to come with me since it's your vault we're going to, rather than my own, which they reopened upon the announcement by the Ministry that I had returned to life."

"Yes," Bellatrix said, "because that makes sense."

The sun was going down behind the mountains outside the Hogwarts grounds. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were on their way back to the Gryffindor common room, when they were stopped in the hallway by a very tall, pale-skinned man in a black robe. He had red eyes with slits for pupils, no lips, and a plastic novelty witch nose secured to his face by an elastic band.

"Excuse me," he hissed. "Do any of you know of a good place to hide things in the castle?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "There's the Room of Requirement. It'll give you something, no doubt." Harry's scar started to burn.

"I see," said the stranger. "Where is this room, might I ask?"

"Seventh floor," Hermione said. Harry's scar seared even greater.

"Much appreciated," the stranger said. "I just wanted to know because I've got this diadem that needs hiding, you see. Well, I won't keep you all any longer." He strode off towards the stairway.

"You guys," Harry gasped. "I think that might have been Voldemort. As soon as he came by, my scar started to burn."

"Harry," Hermione said, "that couldn't have been Voldemort. Voldemort doesn't have a nose, and that man clearly had one."

"You've got a point," Harry said as he rubbed his scar. "Alright, well, you're smarter than all the rest of us. I'll take your word for it."

As they continued on their way to Gryffindor common room, the stranger (who may or may not have been Voldemort) grinned to himself.

"Dumbasses."