Harry ran all the way to Dumbledore's office in the middle of the afternoon and happened to run into the geriatric as he was heading the stairs for lunch. The two immediately viewed the memory and were discussing it.

"Indeed. Lord Voldemort would not use ordinary items to guard his own precious soul. Lord Voldemort liked objects with a powerful magical history. Objects that validated his self-importance. His pride, his belief in his own superiority, his determination to carve for himself a startling place in magical history; these things, suggest to me that Voldemort would have chosen his Horcruxes with some care, favoring objects worthy of the honor," Dumbledore said.

"And yet, the diary wasn't that special."

"The diary, as you have said yourself, was proof that he was the Heir of Slytherin. I am sure that Voldemort considered it of stupendous importance."

"Unlikely Professor. I think the diary may have been made to see if he could. An experiment to see if he got the process down correctly. The diary held the sixteen-year-old soul of Tom Riddle. So, he may have made it with his fathers' and grandparents' death. He also would have found the ring there, which makes it probably the second Horcrux he made. The one that tied into his magical roots." said Harry. "Do you think you know what the other Horcruxes are, sir?"

"You make a good observation Harry. I can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We've already established that Lord Voldemort would prefer objects that, in themselves, have a certain grandeur. I have therefore trawled back through Voldemort's past to see if I can find evidence that such artifacts have disappeared around him. That leads me to the next memory I wish to share with you. Let's continue with our story where we left off. You remember where that was?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry quickly. "Voldemort killed his father and his grandparents and made it look as though his Uncle Morfin did it. Then he went back to Hogwarts and he asked Professor Slughorn about Horcruxes," he said.

"Very good," said Dumbledore. "Now, you will remember, I hope, that I told you at the very outset of these meetings of ours that we would be entering the realms of guesswork and speculation?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thus far, as I hope you agree, I have shown you reasonably firm sources of fact for my deductions as to what Voldemort did until the age of seventeen?"

Harry nodded.

"But now, Harry," said Dumbledore, "now things become murkier and stranger. If it was difficult to find evidence about the boy Riddle, it has been almost impossible to find anyone prepared to reminisce about the man Voldemort. In fact, I doubt whether there is a soul alive, apart from himself, who could give us a full account of his life since he left Hogwarts. However, I have two more memories that I would like to share with you. I had kept them for the next lesson, but we can move forward today." Dumbledore indicated the two little crystal bottles gleaming beside the Pensieve. "I shall then be glad of your opinion as to whether the conclusions I have drawn from them seem likely."

The idea that Dumbledore valued his opinion this highly made Harry feel even more guilty that he held the solution to save Dumbledore's life but was letting his mentor die.

"I hope you are not tired of diving into other people's memories, for they are curious recollections, these two," he said. "This first one came from a very old house-elf by the name of Hokey. Before we see what Hokey witnessed, I must quickly recount how Lord Voldemort left Hogwarts.

"He reached the seventh year of his schooling with, as you might have expected, top grades in every examination he had taken. All around him, his classmates were deciding which jobs they were to pursue once they had left Hogwarts. Nearly everybody expected spectacular things from Tom Riddle, prefect, Head Boy, winner of the Award for Special Services to the School. I know that several teachers, Professor Slughorn amongst them, suggested that he join the Ministry of Magic, offered to set up appointments, put him in touch with useful contacts. He refused all offers. The next thing the staff knew, Voldemort was working at Borgin and Burkes."

"At Borgin and Burkes?" Harry repeated, stunned.

"At Borgin and Burkes," repeated Dumbledore calmly. "I think you will see what attractions the place held for him when we have entered Hokey's memory. But this was not Voldemort's first choice of job. Hardly anyone knew of it at the time — I was one of the few in whom the then headmaster confided — but Voldemort first approached Professor Dippet and asked whether he could remain at Hogwarts as a teacher."

"He wanted to stay here?" asked Harry.

"I believe he had several reasons, though he confided none of them to Professor Dippet," said Dumbledore. "Firstly, and very importantly, Voldemort was, I believe, more attached to this school than he has ever been to a person. Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had felt at home."

Harry felt slightly uncomfortable at these words, for this was exactly how he felt about Hogwarts too.

"Secondly, the castle is a stronghold of ancient magic. Undoubtedly Voldemort had penetrated many more of its secrets than most of the students who pass through the place, but he may have felt that there were still mysteries to unravel, stores of magic to tap.

"And thirdly, as a teacher, he would have had great power and influence over young witches and wizards. Perhaps he had gained the idea from Professor Slughorn, the teacher with whom he was on best terms, who had demonstrated how influential a role a teacher can play. I do not imagine for an instant that Voldemort envisaged spending the rest of his life at Hogwarts, but I do think that he saw it as a useful recruiting ground and a place where he might begin to build himself an army."

"But he didn't get the job, sir?"

"No, he did not. Professor Dippet told him that he was too young at eighteen, but invited him to reapply in a few years if he still wished to teach."

"How did you feel about that, sir?" asked Harry hesitantly.

"Deeply uneasy," said Dumbledore. "I had advised Armando against the appointment — I did not give the reasons I have given you, for Professor Dippet was very fond of Voldemort and convinced of his honesty. But I did not want Lord Voldemort back at this school, and especially not in a position of power."

"Which job did he want, sir? What subject did he want to teach?"

Harry knew the answer even before Dumbledore gave it.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was being taught at the time by an old Professor by the name of Galatea Merrythought, who had been at Hogwarts for nearly fifty years.

"So, Voldemort went off to Borgin and Burkes, and all the staff who had admired him said what a waste it was, a brilliant young wizard like that, working in a shop. However, Voldemort was no mere assistant. Polite and handsome and clever, he was soon given particular jobs of the type that only exist in a place like Borgin and Burkes, which specializes, as you know, Harry, in objects with unusual and powerful properties. Voldemort was sent to persuade people to part with their treasures for sale by the partners, and he was, by all accounts, unusually gifted at doing this."

"I'll bet he was," said Harry, unable to contain himself.

"Well, quite," said Dumbledore, with a faint smile. "And now it is time to hear from Hokey the house-elf, who worked for a very old, very rich witch by the name of Hepzibah Smith."

Dumbledore tapped a bottle with his wand, the cork flew out, and he tipped the swirling memory into the Pensieve, saying as he did so, "After you, Harry."

Harry got to his feet and bent once more over the rippling silver contents of the stone basin until his face touched them.

"Time to leave, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly, as the elf bobbed away bearing the boxes, Dumbledore grasped Harry once again above the elbow, and together they rose up through oblivion and back to Dumbledore's office.

"Hepzibah Smith died two days after that little scene," said Dumbledore, resuming his seat and indicating that Harry should do the same. "Hokey the house-elf was convicted by the Ministry of poisoning her mistress's evening cocoa by accident."

"And the Ministry being the usual bunch of incompetent idiots did not scratch below the surface any more than they had to. Especially when House elf's rights were at stake. Much like the muggle family of Riddles." Harry said with a sigh.

"I see we are of one mind," said Dumbledore. "Certainly, there are many similarities between this death and that of the Riddles. In both cases, somebody else took the blame, someone who had a clear memory of having caused the death —"

"Hokey confessed?"

"She remembered putting something in her mistress's cocoa that turned out not to be sugar, but a lethal and little-known poison," said Dumbledore. "It was concluded that she had not meant to do it, but being old and confused —"

"Voldemort modified her memory, just like he did with Morfin."

"Yes, that is my conclusion too," said Dumbledore. "And, just as with Morfin, the Ministry was predisposed to suspect Hokey —"

"— because she was a house-elf and they are idiots," said Harry.

"Precisely," said Dumbledore. "She was old, she admitted to having tampered with the drink, and nobody at the Ministry bothered to inquire further. As in the case of Morfin, by the time I traced her and managed to extract this memory, her life was almost over — but her memory, of course, proves nothing except that Voldemort knew of the existence of the cup and the locket.

"By the time Hokey was convicted, Hepzibah's family had realized that two of her greatest treasures were missing. It took them a while to be sure of this, for she had many hiding places, having always guarded her collection most jealously. But before they were sure beyond doubt that the cup and the locket were both gone, the assistant who had worked at Borgin and Burkes, the young man who had visited Hepzibah so regularly and charmed her so well, had resigned his post and vanished. His superiors had no idea where he had gone; they were as surprised as anyone at his disappearance. And that was the last that was seen or heard of Tom Riddle for a very long time."

"The locket and the cup became Horcruxes. There is no way he would not want to have a connection to Hogwarts." Harry said as a numb headache began growing behind his eyes.

"Why do you say that, Harry?" Dumbledore asked with a raised brow.

"'I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years.' Those were the exact same words you uttered to me, Professor. You do not understand what Hogwarts means to people who have no home. Especially what it signifies to an eleven-year-old that has never known his place in the world. I understand why he chose to tie himself closely to Hogwarts because that is what I would have done without a heartbeat." Harry said with a haunted look in his eyes as he looked at the floor. He looked up but was surprised to see Dumbledore silently shedding tears.

"I'm sorry Harry. I never —" His voice was heavy and cracked a little at the end.

"I know Professor." Harry didn't disturb the silence as Dumbledore collected himself, "Locket and Cup. That makes two. With the Diary and ring that makes four. One piece in his own body. That still leaves two more unaccounted for. Following his pattern, he would try to find something that belonged to Ravenclaw or Gryffindor."

"My thoughts precisely. Four objects from the four founders would, I am sure, have exerted a powerful pull over Voldemort's imagination. I cannot answer for whether he ever managed to find anything of Ravenclaw's. I am confident, however, that the only known relic of Gryffindor remains safe."

Dumbledore pointed his blackened fingers to the wall behind him, where a ruby-encrusted sword reposed within a glass case.

"Artifacts Professor. Plural" Harry said gesturing towards the sorting Hat. Dumbledore's eyes widened as he recognized his mistake. Harry's headache seemed to be getting worse as he began feeling his blood throb in his skull. He raised his Occlumency shields to block out the pain but it only seemed to delay the symptoms.

"Indeed Harry. I almost forgot. Unfortunately, that does not advance us much further, for he was turned away, or so I believe, without the chance to search the school. I am forced to conclude that he never fulfilled his ambition of collecting four founders' objects. He definitely had two — he may have found three — that is the best we can do for now."

"Even if he got something of Ravenclaw's or of Gryffindor's, that leaves a sixth Horcrux," said Harry, counting on his fingers. "Unless he's got both?"

"I don't think so," said Dumbledore. "I think I know what the sixth Horcrux is. I wonder what you will say when I confess that I have been curious for a while about the behavior of the snake, Nagini?"

"The snake?" said Harry, startled. "You can use living creatures as Horcruxes?"

"Well, it is inadvisable to do so," said Dumbledore, "because to confide a part of your soul to something that can think and move for itself is obviously a very risky business. However, if my calculations are correct, Voldemort was still at least one Horcrux short of his goal of six when he entered your parents' house with the intention of killing you. He seems to have reserved the process of making Horcruxes for particularly significant deaths. You would certainly have been that. He believed that in killing you, he was destroying the danger the prophecy had outlined. He believed he was making himself invincible. I am sure that he was intending to make his final Horcrux with your death. As we know, he failed. After an interval of some years, however, he used Nagini to kill an old Muggle man, and it might then have occurred to him to turn her into his last Horcrux. She underlines the Slytherin connection, which enhances Lord Voldemort's mystique; I think he is perhaps as fond of her as he can be of anything; he certainly likes to keep her close, and he seems to have an unusual amount of control over her, even for a Parselmouth."

"So," said Harry as his mind raced, "the diary's gone, the ring is gone. The cup, the locket, and the snake are still intact, and you think there might be a Horcrux that was once Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's?"

"An admirably succinct and accurate summary, yes," said Dumbledore, bowing his head.

"So… are you still looking for them, sir? Is that where you've been going when you've been leaving the school?"

"Correct," said Dumbledore. "I have been looking for a very long time. I think… perhaps… I may be close to finding another one. There are hopeful signs."

"Now," said Dumbledore with his voice returning back to normal, "if you don't mind, Harry, I have another memory to share."

Harry got to his feet once more as Dumbledore emptied a memory into the Pensieve.

"Whose memory, is it?" he asked.

"Mine," said Dumbledore.

And Harry dived after Dumbledore through the shifting silver mass, landing in the very office he had just left.

Harry felt Dumbledore's hand close over his arm again and moments later, they were standing together on almost the same spot, but there was no snow building on the window ledge, and Dumbledore's hand was blackened and dead-looking once more.

"Why?" said Harry at once, looking up into Dumbledore's face. "Why did he come back? Did you ever find out?"

"I have ideas," said Dumbledore, "but no more than that."

"What ideas, sir?"

"Perhaps to hide a Horcrux here."

"Where could he have possibly hidden something like that? I mean someone in the last fifty years could have easily stumbled across it and gotten possessed like Ginny was."

"I do not know. I thought it may have been the Chamber of Secrets, but I have been unable to verify. Perhaps we can take a trip down there together."

"Let me know when to go, sir. My tongue and I are at your disposal," Harry said with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye.

"Perhaps another time. I'm sure I would not be forgiven by Miss Granger if I kept you from lunch after missing your breakfast."

Dumbledore had walked to the door and was holding it open for him, but he did not move at once.

"Was he after the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, sir? He didn't say…"

"Oh, he definitely wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job," said Dumbledore. "The aftermath of our little meeting proved that. You see, we have never been able to keep a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for longer than a year since I refused the post to Lord Voldemort."

Harry nodded and left the office. He walked a short distance before he staggered and braced himself against a wall. The headache was now too much to handle even for Harry's Occlumency shields. He barely staggered into an abandoned classroom before closing the door behind him and throwing a few basic wards and silencing the room before he dropped his shields. The sudden flood of memories slammed into his mind like a freight train. His pupils narrowed into pinpoints as his visions went black. His body seemed to be shutting down his senses to deal with the mental onslaught. The cup, locket, diary, Nagini, and the ring seemed to swim before his vision and information flowed into Harry's mind about them. The Cup contained healing powers; any potion drunk from the cup would have added benefits and poisons would be neutralized. The Ring contained spells and enchantments that warned the wearer of poisons and potions in their food. The stone also had Grindlewald's mark but looked significantly older than the ring. The Locket was enchanted so only those that shared Slytherin's bloodline could cast family protection spells using it. The information seemed to flood his brain.

Harry staggered and fell to his knees, only to feel wetness in his mouth as the coppery taste of blood reached his tongue. He touched his nose only to see blood flowing freely from his nose. A few minutes later, he passed out.