"What the devil are you doing here?", snarled Uncle Vernon when he saw his nephew enter his house.

"He's not supposed to be back yet", said Aunt Petunia. "The boy must've been expelled from school".

"I haven't been expelled", said Harry. "The headmaster was murdered by one of my teachers, so the students were sent home early".

There was, without question, a look of sincere satisfaction on Uncle Vernon's face.

"What did I tell you, Petunia?", said Uncle Vernon. "Didn't I tell you that this whole world of magic folks is nothing but death and destruction?".

"Of course, Vernon", said Aunt Petunia, but Harry noticed that she looked a little nervous.

"Well", said Uncle Vernon, looking at Harry. "It's up to your room, boy. This house is not yours until the date when you were supposed to come back".

"Fine", said Harry, walking up to his room. He didn't really want to be around the Dursleys anyway.

That night, Harry was overwhelmed by his grief and sorrow. He couldn't believe that Dumbledore was gone. That Sirius Black was dead. That Cedric was history. That he had never known his parents. Aragog was only a memory now.

And it was all Harry's fault.

He was in his bed, but he wasn't sleeping. He was deep in thought about Dumbledore, Sirius, Cedric, Aragog and his parents.

So Harry started to cry. He started with small sobs, but they grew louder and louder as he wept.

He found that he couldn't stop crying. His greif was too strong. He missed Dumbledore. Dumbledore had meant so much to him. He missed Sirius, his godfather! The pain, oh, the pain of never being able to see them again. The pain, oh, it made him cry still louder.

He got up from his bed and decided to use the bathroom. He cried all the way on his way there. Then, as he was using the bathroom, he cried some more, blowing his nose on the toilet paper. When he was finished and went back to his bed, he cried still more.

Then Harry cried and cried and cried and cried and was absolutely howling when he heard a knock on his door.

Harry opened the door, tears still rolling down his cheeks, and saw the face of Dudley.

"Can you stop your crying, cry baby?", said Dudley in a rude, sleepy voice.

"Of course I can, loser", said Harry, slamming the door in his cousin's face.

Harry was now angry, but it wasn't enough to stop his crying. He cried and sobbed and wailed. He thought that his tears would eventually put him to sleep. But he was wrong.

He turned on his lamp. Maybe a little light would make him feel better. But there, on his desk, was a picture of his parents. Now he felt still sadder.

He continued to cry, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. They would've called the police, but they thought that he was some sort of dog, and the pound didn't answer the phone this late at night.

So the police weren't called, and nobody came to stop Harry from crying. He cried and cried and cried and cried and cried.

Finally, he had an idea.

"I'm not going to just cry here all night long", he said. "I am going to do something to make things better".

But how could he make things better?

Well, killing Voldemort was a good start.

But he couldn't kill Voldemort until he had destroyed those Horocrux-thingys.

And he didn't know where they were hidden. How could he find out where they were?

The internet was a source of information. It was used by Muggles and would probably do him no good. But he figured it was worth a shot.

Harry snuck downstairs and turned on the computer. Before long, he was on the internet.

"I need to do this more often", said Harry. "I never realized that there were, like, 10,000 websites all about me".

But now was not the time to see what various teenage girls thought about his butt. Now was the time to learn about horocruxes.

Harry typed in the web address: won't work", Harry mumbled to himself.

But it did work. The main page read:

"Welcome to the place where you can find out where all horocurxes are hidden. Now featuring the locations of You-Know-Who's four remaining keys to his soul."

"Brilliant", said Harry, clicking on the the appropriate boxes until he found what he was looking for.

It turned out that one of Voldemort's four remaining Horocrux-thingys was hidden in Diagon Alley. Another was hidden in Hogsmeade. The other two, convieniantly enough, were at Hogwarts.

"Brilliant", said Harry. "It should be easy to find those things now".

He was about to log off when an ad popped up on the computer screen.

"Want to find those Horocruxes faster?", it said. "Buy our exclusive Horocrux Detector".

"Brilliant", said Harry again, clicking on the ad. Within minutes, he had purchased the Horocrux Detector, not knowing at the time that it would ultimately cause the death of a major character.

Meanwhile, far, far away from the Dursleys' awful house, Lord Voldemort was having an important meeting with his single most trusted agent.

"The deaths of Crabbe and Goyle are of no loss to us", said Voldemort from his throne in his secret hideout.

"I know, my Lord", said Voldemort's single most trusted agent. "But Greg failed to get it from Potter".

"Potter doesn't have it", said Voldemort with a small smile. "It died with Goyle".

"But what of Bagman killing Crabe?", said Voldemort's single most trusted agent. "Is he to be punished?".

"Bagman will get what's coming to him", said Voldemort. "In the meantime, he is to follow my plan".

"Of course, my Lord", said Voldemort's single most trusted agent.

"Remember", said Voldemort, his voice rising slightly. "You are my single most trusted agent. You must not fail in your mission".

"I won't, my Lord", said Voldemort's most trusted agent.

"You have a great advantage", said Voldemort. "One that none other of my followers have. Harry Potter trusts you".

"I know, my Lord", said Voldemort's most trusted agent coldly. "I know".