The search was tedious, to say the least.
Leon didn't have Grindelwald's raw power, so he had to rely on a clunky, old-school method.
He cast Protego Diabolica, a fiery shield, and drew a protective circle on the island.
Leon and Kreacher stood inside it, taking turns casting Accio to summon the Horcrux.
Of course, the Horcrux didn't come flying over, but the spell did attract Inferi.
Thanks to Voldemort's rather dim-witted defense system, every casting provoked an Inferius to crawl out of the lake and attack the summoner.
Kreacher would inspect each one. If it wasn't Regulus, they'd let it stumble forward, only to be incinerated by the Fiendfyre.
And so, they repeated this mechanical spell-casting for hours each day.
When Leon felt his magic running low, he and Kreacher would leave, returning the next day after recovering.
This was Leon's safest, most reliable plan.
The only cost was time—and a few bowls of chicken blood. (The blood was needed for a specific mechanism.)
How many Inferi were in that lake? Probably even Voldemort himself had lost count.
Finding one specific person in that massive army of the undead required a stroke of luck.
Fortunately, Leon and Kreacher's luck held. On the tenth day, they found him.
Compared to the other Inferi—pale, bluish, with misty eyes—Regulus Black looked almost like a sleeping, normal person.
His skin was deathly white, but unrotted, unmarred.
His eyes were closed, his face serene, as if he might wake up any moment.
The second Regulus emerged from the lake, Leon didn't need Kreacher's confirmation. He knew.
He'd seen a photo of the Black brothers from their youth at 12 Grimmauld Place.
Sirius wasn't as good-looking as Leon—maybe Leon-mini level at best.
Regulus, a notch below Sirius in looks, was also a bit frailer.
But seeing Regulus now, Leon felt an eerie resemblance to himself.
It was almost like stepping into the uncanny valley.
Leon dropped the fiery shield and kicked a few stray Inferi back into the lake.
"Kreacher, let's get out of here. This place is too dark, too cold. Let's find somewhere sunny, yeah? Let Regulus feel the sunlight."
Watching Kreacher kneel beside Regulus, gently tending to his remains, Leon made the suggestion.
Kreacher had been quiet these past few days.
Even now, he didn't speak, just silently wept, his tears pooling on the ground.
His large, bulging eyes were swollen to slits.
In a hoarse voice, Kreacher croaked, "Master Leon is right. Master Regulus hasn't seen the sun in over a decade… Some sunlight would be good, good… He won't see it again, not ever…"
They Disapparated with Regulus to a bright, airy, secluded spot.
They stayed until the sun set.
Leon didn't have any personal hang-ups about death.
But he felt Regulus would've wanted to return to the home he'd lived in for over a decade, even just for a moment.
So, they laid Regulus to rest at 12 Grimmauld Place for a day.
After consulting Kreacher, they agreed: no obituary, just a quiet burial the next day.
Regulus's true cause of death was too shocking for the current climate.
Not only would wizards connected to the Black family fail to understand, but the few remaining old-timers in the family wouldn't get it either.
Regulus's heroic sacrifice didn't need to be known.
His noble character didn't need praise.
But he absolutely couldn't be buried under the insulting lie that he was "too weak to stay a Death Eater and was eliminated."
A proper funeral could wait until Voldemort was no longer a threat.
Then, they could celebrate Regulus's brave stand against him.
The next day, at the Black family cemetery—a place that, ironically, was growing livelier as the living Blacks dwindled—they dug a grave beside Orion and Walburga Black's tombs.
Before sealing the coffin, Leon turned to Kreacher.
"It's a bit simple, but we can't skip the proper steps. Kreacher, would you like to say a few words?"
"No, no! Kreacher, I…" Kreacher stammered, overwhelmed.
On one hand, he felt unworthy of giving a eulogy.
On the other, he couldn't disobey Leon.
He shook so violently it looked like he might collapse, even starting to ram himself into a tombstone as punishment.
Leon quickly backtracked, "Alright, alright, don't hurt yourself! I'll do it, I'll do it!"
Clearing his throat, Leon gazed at the tombstone, where he'd just carved Regulus Arcturus Black.
"Dude, you were awesome!"
Okay, maybe not that serious.
"Haha, no joking—you were truly awesome!"
Leon crouched down, studying Regulus's peaceful face.
"I don't fully agree with your ideals. Honestly, I think you were a bit naive.
"But your actions deserve every bit of respect.
"You lived by the family motto, Toujours Pur—Always Pure.
"You followed Voldemort for the good of wizards, then betrayed him for their future.
"You took on the responsibility of protecting your family.
"You were a true Black.
"A pure wizard.
"A man who stood tall.
"I'm proud of you, Uncle."
Leon stood, conjuring a lily with his right hand and gently placing it on Regulus's chest.
"Rest in peace, Regulus. May you find happiness and calm on the other side."
He heard Kreacher let out a choked sob nearby.
"Say something," Leon said softly. "You won't see him again."
Kreacher struggled to speak, choking up before managing, "Goodbye, Master."
Then he broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Hey, easy now," Leon said. "Don't cry yourself into dehydration. Regulus would want you to take care of yourself."
Leon's own emotions were steady—he'd only just met Regulus, after all.
This wasn't the place to put on a performance, not with the Black ancestors watching from their graves.
But with Kreacher sobbing so hard and Leon standing there unfazed, the contrast felt a bit off.
He gently pulled Kreacher, who was practically diving into the coffin, back to his feet.
With a wave of his hand, Leon sealed the coffin.
Another wave, and the earth covered it.
After a moment's thought, Leon added one last inscription to the top of Regulus's tombstone: Toujours Pur.
BOOM!
Suddenly, a rumble came from the center of the cemetery, where the oldest tombstone stood.
Leon left Kreacher and approached alone.
The heavy stone split down the middle, revealing a narrow passage.
From outside, it was pitch black, impossible to see what lay within.
Leon was prepared but still uneasy—yet he couldn't pass up this opportunity.
"Great-great-great-grandfather… you wouldn't harm your most outstanding descendant, right?"
Leon patted the weathered tombstone.
"If something happens to me, the Black family's done for.
"You wouldn't want the family in the hands of some fool rotting in Azkaban, would you?"
The tombstone stayed silent.
"No answer? I'll take that as a promise to protect me, then."
Leon gave the stone a playful tap.
He stretched out his right hand, conjuring a glowing orb.
A glimpse of intricate, colorful patterns peeked out from under his sleeve.
With the orb leading the way, Leon stepped cautiously into the passage.
To his surprise, it was short—so short he barely had time to feel scared before reaching the end.
Before him stood a massive, verdigris-covered door.
A quick glance showed no handle or keyhole, only a single sharp spike protruding from the center.
Leon hesitated. "No way, it's not asking me to prick myself, is it? A blood test?"
He grimaced. "How long has this thing been underground? I'm not getting tetanus, am I?"
But he'd come this far. No turning back now.
Instead of using the spike, Leon conjured a needle, pricked his finger, and let a drop of blood fall onto the door.
"Ha, didn't see that coming, did you? I've got magic!" he said, smirking at the rusty door.
The door ignored him, creaking open with a groan.
Leon peered inside, checking for traps, then stepped in and picked up the only item there.
A letter.
read more inpatreon
ilham20