"Impossible!" Dumbledore stared at Tom Riddle's face, both familiar and strange, his expression one of utter shock. His gaze suddenly sharpened as he turned to glare at Grindelwald. "You told me I'd destroyed all the Horcruxes he made when he was young!"
Gellert looked completely innocent. "Uh... what I saw in the River of Fate was just that, Albus. You know I can't see every single scene. All I could see was that every possible future involving his youthful Horcruxes disappeared."
"Disappeared? Ha." Old Dumbledore rarely let his composure slip, but now a hint of it showed on his face.
After the trip to New York, many of his ideas had changed.
To make sure someone could keep Anthony Weasley in check in the future, he had completely changed his plans for dealing with Tom Riddle. For the past six months, he had been preparing to put an end to this so-called Dark Lord once and for all.
And a crucial part of that plan was destroying every Horcrux Tom had made before Lily's "Love Magic" killed him.
For that, he'd had to call on Gellert, the Seer, for help. He'd even brought Harry Potter to a place crawling with Inferi, forced himself to down potion after potion despite the excruciating pain, and gritted his teeth as he destroyed that Horcrux on the spot.
But now...
"If he can come back looking the way he did when he was young, then there must still be a Horcrux he made back then!"
Dumbledore drew a deep breath. A faint sense of helplessness welled up inside him, and he closed his eyes wearily.
Ever since he'd learned that Tom Riddle's reliance was on Horcruxes, and that the book describing the magic, Secrets of the Darkest Art, sat on a shelf in his