Well there coming through thick and fast these stories. Only been writing for 2 days and already finished the 4th chapter. I've got nine planned out so far and a rough idea of the ending so going quite well. Starting chapter 5 soon. Phil.

Dumbledore's Gift

Harry looked around, sensing somebody there, watching and waiting for him. The room was as empty as when he had entered. He looked at the letter in the portrait again. It was definitely addressed to him, but what was he supposed to do? Did he have to wake the sleeping Dumbledore or just reach into the picture and pull the letter out? Harry pondered for a minute when the sleeping Dumbledore dropped the letter and it fluttered out of the painting and landed directly at Harry's feet.

Harry stepped back, startled. He bent down, picked up the letter and cautiously began to open it.

My Dear Harry,

I knew I could trust you to come here and see me again. I have some urgent information for you. As I am sure you are aware, Voldemort has not been defeated. He is, as we speak, waiting, biding his time, as he did for those 12 years. Waiting for his faithful servants to aid him. They will find him, Harry. Much sooner than last time, too. You must find them first. I regret to inform you that I am setting you out on yet another dangerous journey. I must warn you Harry, there is another horcrux. You will find that I have laid various hints to finding that horcrux along your journey. That is all I can do for you. My first offer to help you is to pass on a very useful object on to you. You will find my pensieve in the cabinet directly behind you, on the 2nd shelf down. It should be empty of all but one of my memories. That one memory, plus one from you, will help you on your way. The memory you will need may be very hard to obtain, Harry. I need you to concentrate as hard as possible on the dreams you have been having recently (yes, I know about the dreams). Once you are sure that the dream is filling your mind put your wand to your left temple and draw it out. You will need all the information you can get. Good luck, Harry. I am sure I will be hearing from you soon. I will advise you to employ the members of Dumbledore's Army to assist you. Especially Mrs Granger and Mr Weasley.

Yours ever faithfully,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry stood, utterly confused at what he had just read. His head swam as he reread the letter, wondering what exactly Dumbledore was asking of him. He looked at the bottom and noticed for the first time that there was more.

P.S. And Harry, one thing I must say to you is the answer you seek is Albania.

Albania? The answer you seek? What on Earth could Dumbledore mean? Harry turned around and saw the stone basin that was the pensieve. He walked over to the cabinet and opened the glass door noiselessly.

Harry looked in. The pensieve sat alone and unused. Harry could see the base and a single silvery thread floating around the basin. Harry braced himself, not sure of what he was about to do. He tried to remember the dreams, even though it was harder now that he was up and awake. He strained his mind trying to concentrate on the dark place. He was in a foreign body, someone who had lost all the power in the world. Who was drained of everything, even their life. He felt the loneliness and emptiness.

He reached into his robes for his wand. Putting it to his head he concentrated on pushing the memory towards the left side of his brain. As he pulled the wand away he felt as though the skin was being pulled out of his skin in the most peaceful and easing way. When he felt the final tug from his wand he felt as though the world had been eased from his shoulders. He moved his wand to the pensieve and the silvery mist that had just come from his own head floated and mixed with Dumbledore's memory. Harry looked into the basin, finally knowing what to do. He leant forward, and as his nose brushed the tip of the mist, he felt himself lurch forward, falling into a new world. The dark dream that had been haunting him for weeks.

As he landed he looked round and there, right in front of him laid the empty, helpless form of a wasted man. There lay Lord Voldemort.