"Partly. After learning about it from Mother, I became obsessed with that man. I collected every piece of information about him, begged Mother to take me to every occasion where he appeared. But I wasn't the eldest son—some events weren't appropriate for me to attend, so I could only hear Mother's accounts."
Regulus's head shook slightly under Lys's gaze. "I was completely immersed in the aura surrounding him from my childhood. I ignored too much, even when I received the Dark Mark—it felt like a dream come true."
"But during Christmas of sixth year, I really began questioning what any of it meant. Watching beings like myself being slaughtered—meaningless slaughter, just for entertainment. Even after being taught for over a decade that Muggles were vermin, they're so much like us... Have you ever seen Muggles? They really are so similar to wizards."
Lys snorted. "I have. Have you seen a Squib?" Regulus hesitated, then nodded and froze.
"Since then, I keep seeing those Muggle children—little ones suddenly opening their eyes and staring at me—when I'm not paying attention, when I'm sleeping. Until I extracted myself from those operations and began handling Ministry affairs with Lucius, I gradually recovered somewhat. I convinced myself those massacres were necessary deterrence."
Regulus clutched his head. "But Ministry affairs seem wrong too. The proposals he wants passed grow more extreme, more bizarre. Those bills are just bones dangled before us pure-blood followers. They no longer reasonably protect our interests."
"Until I discovered this place, until I realized Mother's injuries weren't so serious, until Thomas died mysteriously—everything I'd deliberately ignored surfaced."
He released his head, turning to Lys. "When I finally recognized my previous naivety, those dead wizards and Muggles appeared in my dreams even more frequently. You don't understand that torment..." His voice trailed off.
Because Lys was staring at him expressionlessly. His face struggled briefly. "Anyway, you'll eventually know the answer. What do you think—what are the chances he's tampered with his own soul?"
Regulus's life had been too smooth—barely eighteen, unable to bear his shattered illusions. He hoped someone could hear his speculation without alarm, sharing his fears.
"Impossible." Lys shook her head. "The more powerful a wizard, the deeper their understanding of taboos. Based on your previous description, he has no reason to tamper with his soul—there's no benefit."
"What if it's to escape death?" Regulus spoke in a strained voice, clearly reluctant to discuss this topic.
"What?" Lys didn't catch it.
"To flee—cough—death." Regulus paused mid-sentence, his wand trembling as he traced letters in the stone's moss. "Including us—devouring death—Death Eaters."
Lys raised her wand, conjuring magical flames for warmth, studying those letters in the orange glow.
"You really dare to imagine... He's..." Lys was about to mock Regulus, but the laughter in her eyes suddenly faded.
Another secret of unknown truth weighing on her...
Lys sighed heavily. "So you suspect he traded his soul for something else, becoming what he is now?"
Both understood what they were discussing, but neither spoke the word directly—Horcrux.
"Yes, I believe it." Regulus nodded firmly. "At least then I was right about something."
Lys didn't know which aspect he meant—the slaughter, or his misplaced worship.
But she needed to go home. This uncertain secret combined with the environment made her shiver.
Extinguishing the flames burning on the boulder, Lys secretly left a small mark.
Turning around, Lys transferred her wand to her protected left hand, using her right to pull up her cloak's edge that had gotten cold and heavy from trailing in the water. When she lowered her hand, a miniature willow wand was concealed in her palm.
"I should keep this to myself, but I can barely maintain sanity in front of others anymore. I'm going mad. I'm sorry, Stalys."
Hearing this apology, Lys made no response, simply stepping forward. Before she could steady herself, Regulus's spell struck her back.
Lys sighed. "To guard against you commanding house-elves to point at me again, I even fought with my own house-elf several times."
"And that inhalable potion on the cloak, plus your mental magic—I must say, Regulus, your preparations were thorough. But the best approach would have been not telling me these things or asking for my help."
Lys controlled her Arrowflight magic, turning to stand steadily on the rocks, looking down at Regulus. "Now I'll give you one chance to move your wand away from me."
But Regulus shook his head. Seeing this, Lys continued: "I have no requirements about who holds high positions. If I could maintain my situation under Lucius, I once even thought joining the Death Eaters wasn't bad."
Lys spread her right hand. "But if I can't survive or my family faces problems, I want other possibilities to fight for."
"So you needn't worry I'll use your discovery to definitely bring down the person you worship, nor worry I'll inform on you. To some extent... I hold similar attitudes to yours. Our reasons may differ, but facing different consequences, our choices are the same, aren't they?"
"Incidentally, I'm actually more interested in understanding Grindelwald's views. Given the chance, I'd like to visit Germany."
Regulus's face wrinkled—what was she saying?
But in that moment, Lys's silent spell struck Regulus directly in the face, knocking him unconscious.
Lys shrugged. "I spoke truthfully—I don't care who's on top. I just want a quiet life." Lys struggled to levitate Regulus with magic.
The restrictions here were strong. Earlier when they fought, Lys found it very difficult just to lift herself slightly off the ground for balance, let alone now—walking unsteadily while magically floating a grown man. By the time she left that rocky shore, despite the cold, Lys was sweating.
She healed Regulus's scrapes from dragging, dumped him at Black Manor's entrance, knocked the door knocker, and left.
She needed to sort out how things had developed to this point.
First, her relationship with Regulus: since neither wanted the other used as Thomas's knife in their belly, their relationship had remained reasonably harmonious.
But only that.
Second was Regulus's lack of choice—his family background, social conditions, and among people he could contact, she was indeed the most suitable in terms of both perspective and ability.
Finally, Regulus himself... he might truly be near breaking point.
Entering the reading room, Lys drank the potion Senna had left on the table.
So he hoped someone would know, yet hoped no one would know.
Only after using her did he attempt to erase her memory.
Leaning on the table, cracking her knuckles, Lys mocked Walburga's clever scheme—spending over a decade filling her younger son's head with the Dark Lord's greatness, hoping to cultivate an unquestioningly loyal child to maintain the Black family's status. Yet she produced someone as excellent and sensitive as Regulus.
Neither child she'd invested in—one for the Dark Lord, one for the light—turned out as she wished.
Lys suddenly paused. If the Black brothers had switched places, that stupid dog would have perfectly fit Walburga's ideal.
And with Regulus's intelligence, he'd be an excellent force in the Order of the Phoenix, not the attack dog role the mutt currently filled.
Actually, Walburga's arrangements weren't problematic—she was just too proud to consider her children might escape her control.
"Ha..." Lys shook her head. What was she thinking?
Back to the main point, Lys sighed. Regulus was truly sensitive. She remembered those letters carved on the stone.
"Horcrux," Lys murmured softly.
This was interesting. Based on her knowledge:
The Dark Lord had traveled worldwide, his contact with dark magic's edges was vast. Even years ago, when calling himself Voldemort, he claimed to have pushed magic's boundaries outward.
Though Hogwarts' headmaster Dumbledore had refuted this, saying the Dark Lord's magic was merely dark magic, he acknowledged that Voldemort's magical knowledge and understanding was the broadest among existing wizards.
Then a wizard with such insight, with the premise of wanting to rule the wizarding world, couldn't possibly choose reason-damaging Horcruxes.
Though Horcruxes do naturally confuse and make their creators overlook this point.
But Lys still didn't believe he'd choose this method—not everyone was as recklessly bold and wildly imaginative as herself.
She'd dared experiment on her own soul after reading just a few books while at school. With such comprehensive knowledge, it would be even less possible.
When she shared her reasoning with Regulus, his expression was somewhat strange.
But seeing Lys's absolute certainty about the Dark Lord's scholarship and her refutation of his suggestions, Regulus seemed to breathe easier, no longer mentioning his failed attempt to erase Lys's memory.
He even said he'd introduce some Germans to Lys.
Arriving at Black Manor as agreed, Lys walked while pulling a thick stack of newspapers from her suit's inner pocket, spreading them directly before the old wizard in the Black family study.
She was very satisfied with Regulus's arrangement.
This man's age clearly showed he'd genuinely experienced that era. She happily learned things not reported in newspapers reaching Britain.
Lys also discussed her understanding of Grindelwald's views and the range of benefiting groups.
But the old wizard frowned, refuting some of Lys's ideas while explaining other things.
Lys graciously provided him with her specially made tea.
It turned out Grindelwald being a Seer was true—precisely because he foresaw certain Muggle developments that he became determined to overthrow the Statute of Secrecy.
"He once said, in that abandoned cemetery—yes, I remember clearly, I was there too—he said this," the goateed old wizard recalled confidently. "Someone said I hate Muggles—you know what Muggles are, right?"
Seeing Lys nod, he continued: "I don't hate them. They're just different people with different values. Magic blooms in few people's blood—so what kind of world will we create?"
Lys didn't know if his "we" referred only to wizards or a combination of wizards and Muggles.
"We are born for freedom, for truth, for love."
"Because I don't fight for hatred—we just want freedom, the freedom to be ourselves... Promise me your eternal loyalty. Only here do you know what freedom is. Only here can you truly understand yourself..."
Just wanting the freedom to be oneself?
The wizard removed his gloves, using his scarred hand to wipe his eyes. "I suppose Britain reported on that Fiendfyre in Paris?"
He put his gloves back on, seeming to pour himself tea, but Lys nodded while tapping the table with her wand. The teapot twisted itself, filling the empty cup while warming the tea to a suitable temperature.
He looked approvingly at Lys. "Mm, excellent young person—very precise magical control."
He took a sip, praised the tea's flavor, then answered Lys's question: "So did he give true freedom? Or freedom within his rules?"
"Hahaha, child, you ask well. Do you know how many Muggles and wizards died in that great fire?"
Lys recalled—the number seemed... staggering.
She fell silent.
She felt somewhat disappointed. Though Grindelwald's words had touched Lys's heart, his actions seemed to carry the arbitrary whims and indifference of those in power.
She understood every reform required bloodshed and struggle, but in reality, she was among those bleeding at the bottom.
"Fighting for freedom, born for freedom, for truth, for love. Sounds like the Order of the Phoenix's rhetoric..." Lys changed topics, chatting with the old wizard about other things.
During this, Lys's strange yet truthful remarks—like "power in cages" and "behind every slogan lies interest struggle"—made the old wizard's mouth curve upward considerably.
"You're also..." The opposite wizard tapped his left arm. Lys glanced at her left hand's protective gear without speaking.
"I can tell—you're not quite suitable. You pursue stability more, believe killing is unnecessary when unneeded, which doesn't match their violent, forceful oppression style..."
Lys used book quotes as cover to express her own thoughts: when unnecessary, killing is unneeded, because anyone might become the target of killing.
"What about when necessary?"
Lys simply smiled and poured the old wizard another cup of tea.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
🤔 Want to know what happens next to the characters?
🤫 Eager to explore the untold secrets of this world?
✍️ Ready to read more of my wildest stories?
✨patreon.com/DarkGolds