"What about the black gemstone ring? Is it still with Morfin?" Draco asked again.
"To be honest, I visited Morfin in Azkaban some time ago. Due to time constraints, I will not show you his memories. In short, after he was released from prison following the last attack on Muggles, he lived alone in that shack, always wearing that ring.... until young Tom Riddle paid him a visit," Dumbledore said patiently.
"What happened?"
"We cannot know for certain. Morfin's memory was severely tampered with. When he regained consciousness, he had already been captured and sent to Azkaban for the murder of old Tom Riddle and his family. The ring on his hand was gone." Dumbledore glanced out the window and tried to convey the most important information.
"He killed his own Muggle father?" Draco asked, not at all surprised.
This is very much in keeping with what the Dark Lord, that inhuman madman, would do.
"I believe so," Dumbledore said slowly.
"And then made a Horcrux.... " he said softly, feeling a wave of weariness wash over him.
"Very likely."
"Indeed, it is more probable that he chose the black gemstone ring as his Horcrux. We have not yet found a direct connection between him and the locket.... " Draco chose his words carefully.
"The disappearance of that locket is suspicious. I smell a conspiracy in it," Professor Dumbledore said in a deep voice. "Draco, why not let your imagination run a little? Why not.... both of them.... ?"
"Both of them? Both Horcruxes? That is too vile." Draco could no longer maintain his composure.
"In this matter, we must prepare for the worst," Dumbledore said seriously, a sharp glint in his eyes.
"But beyond speculation, I have absolutely no idea where these two objects are currently located," Draco said bluntly to Dumbledore.
"It is not as though we are entirely without leads; Hepzibah Smith is a good starting point," Dumbledore said.
"But she is already dead. Tracing these people is a waste of time. No matter where they were before, once they are in the Dark Lord's hands, everything changes," Draco said bluntly.
"On this point, I hold the opposite view." Dumbledore resumed his smiling expression. "I think it is necessary to trace his past, as this will give me a clearer understanding of his way of thinking."
"If he truly cared about the past, he would have hidden the things in an orphanage, or in the Gaunt family's dilapidated shack.... " Draco asked with a challenging tone. "Did you look for them? Did you find anything?"
"The orphanage is full of Muggles, and I can sense no magical fluctuations there," Dumbledore said. "As for the Gaunt shack, it has been a ruin for many years, and there is nothing left there."
"Perhaps he is not a sentimental person. I would wager he has used a great deal of dark magic to hide those things in some secluded place, and cursed anyone who might find them.... " Draco mused.
"Of course he would do that. Even without becoming Horcruxes, the magic inherent in those objects is powerful enough on its own.
Salazar Slytherin must have had his reasons for choosing them as the House's treasures. Listen, Draco.... I simply hope you can ask around among your Slytherin classmates, to see if anyone has seen anything similar. Once you have any leads, and have found out where these things might be, do not touch them carelessly. Come and tell me, and I will handle them, agreed?"
Dumbledore looked at Draco with a serious expression.
Draco dropped his feigned smile.
He remembered the diary from his second year, which could influence minds, devour souls, and cause chaos at Hogwarts. It could even materialise into human form, speak, and control the Basilisk. Harry had only managed to destroy it by chance, with the aid of Fawkes and the sword of Gryffindor, and by using a Basilisk fang.
He remembered Ravenclaw's diadem in the Room of Requirement, and the seductive whispers he had heard before he pierced it with the fang. If it had not been for the Grey Lady..... reminding him, he might have put it on, and if he had, he might have been dead long ago. Recalling the destruction of the diadem often sent chills down his spine; he felt he should have been far more careful.
Hufflepuff's Cup was no ordinary object. It could severely injure a wizard of exceptional magical ability like Sirius Black .... and even with Madam Pomfrey's superb skills, he still needed time to recover. Draco, on the other hand, had had all his bones shattered, yet was fully healed in a single night.
Dumbledore is right.
Draco softened his tone. "Professor Dumbledore, you are right. I also believe that Horcruxes are extraordinarily dangerous things. Destroying them is not easy. Perhaps you should consider finding a trusted assistant when investigating these matters, rather than going it alone."
"Oh, I will consider it," Dumbledore said gently. "However, it is getting late. Draco, I must ask you to leave, or you will miss dinner."
Draco stood up, feeling utterly exhausted.
He had received too much information today, and his temples were throbbing with a dull ache.
"One moment.... "
Draco turned around and saw Dumbledore standing there, his face showing obvious fatigue and genuine apology. "I am sorry about your mother. Sirius did not know the danger he had drawn you into. If anything happens in the future that endangers your parents' safety, I will do everything in my power to help."
"I hope you keep your word," Draco said calmly, "and that you do not do anything else to exploit them."
"As you wish," said Dumbledore.
"And do not tell anyone else what I am doing," he said coldly, reverting to the expressionless Draco Malfoy who had walked into the office.
"What happens in this office remains in this office," Dumbledore said after a long pause.
Draco gave him a reluctant nod and left the office.
The sky above Hogwarts was completely dark. Looking out from the window of the corridor, the pitch-black castle resembled a great beast awakened from the night. Dementors lurked outside, their shadows shifting menacingly, seemingly ready to pounce at any moment.
All of this made Draco feel weary.
He had no appetite for dinner. Instead, he walked down the staircases, through the bustling and noisy students, and returned to his single room, pale-faced.
His lingering anxieties since the holidays had come true .... the Horcruxes were multiplying, and the threads were becoming increasingly tangled.
That cunning old fox, Dumbledore! He had thought that by handing this matter over to him, he could finally catch his breath.
Little did he know, this was just the beginning of another nightmare. Lockets .... where on earth does one even begin with that?
Draco lay on his bed, his mind in turmoil.
The image of that small golden locket.... with its ornate serpentine S.... kept flashing in his mind, giving him a strange sense of familiarity.
He must have seen it somewhere before.