Chapter 75: Slytherin Locket
In the headmaster's office, Professor Dumbledore, dressed in a moon-white nightgown, was looking at Draco Malfoy, who was also wearing a long robe.
"With all due respect, Draco, I look forward to seeing you again, but I wasn't expecting you to be so efficient. It's been less than twelve hours since we said goodbye?" Dumbledore asked sleepily.
He wore a homely grey flat-topped tasseled hat and a pink bow in his beard, which made the greatest wizard of the century appear affable no matter what he said.
"Believe me, sir, if it wasn't an emergency, I wouldn't be so rude as to wake you up at this hour." There was a hint of nervousness in Draco's tone.
"Can't wait a moment?" Dumbledore yawned in a friendly manner, not annoyed at having his sleep interrupted by a student.
"I can't wait." He said, with a hint of excitement and anticipation.
It was the early hours of the morning, and Draco was both sleepy and hyperactive.
He felt like he might die in the next second. No decent wizard would bother anyone so late at night—he should at least wait until daybreak.
But he always felt that something was screaming in his soul, which made him lose all patience.
This matter cannot wait until tomorrow, he thought.
Once you have an idea, don't waste a single second waiting.
"That makes me even more curious. Go ahead." Dumbledore perked up.
"I think I may have discovered the whereabouts of a Horcrux." Draco calmed himself down and said with his hands clasped tightly.
"What did you say? Where?" The old eyes suddenly became sharp.
"Before that, I need you to find Sirius Black. Only he can do this." Draco said with a frown.
He originally didn't want to have anything to do with this "rebellious son of the Black family", but now he had no choice but to ask him for help.
"You are very good at keeping us in suspense." Dumbledore stared at him.
Draco remained silent, sticking to his own opinion.
The old man woke Fox, who was dozing on the branch, and whispered a few words to him. The phoenix spread its wings and blew itself out of the principal's office like a gust of fiery red wind.
Dumbledore was brewing a pot of hot tea when Sirius, wearing a hospital gown, was quickly pushed to the headmaster's office in a wheelchair by Madam Pomfrey.
"Aha! Bobby, you're just in time. Do you want a drink?"
"No, thank you! I think you'd better give me an explanation!" Her angry voice echoed throughout the principal's office, completely different from her usual gentle attitude. "At four o'clock in the morning, you don't let the patient rest and make him walk in the cold night wind!"
"Oh, Poppy, I suppose a professional like you should have used a warming charm on him," Dumbledore said gently.
"Of course!" Madam Pomfrey softened her tone and said complacently, "This is what a qualified medical staff should do."
"Thank you, Poppy. I will give you a reasonable explanation later. But now, please give us some private space." Dumbledore said in an unquestionable tone.
Madam Pomfrey glanced at Draco, who was sitting opposite Dumbledore, and after taking a look at his severely sleep-deprived face, she walked out of the headmaster's office hesitantly.
Sirius slouched in his wheelchair, one arm in a sling and a nearly healed scar on the side of his face.
His hair was shorter, neat and tidy, and his cheeks were fuller. Perhaps because he had just woken up, his eyes looked a little dull.
"What's the matter?" He glanced calmly at the serious-looking Draco and Dumbledore.
Although his face showed impatience, in fact, this strange combination made him suspicious.
"We need your house-elf, Kreacher," Draco drawled, eyeing him warily.
This was the first time Sirius Black looked surprised that evening.
How could a Malfoy family look so eager to try out their unwelcome house-elf? He glanced at Dumbledore behind the desk inquiringly.
Dumbledore, toying with his wand, made brief eye contact with him and nodded slightly.
"Wait a moment." He stood up from his wheelchair, limped a few steps, grabbed some Floo powder from Dumbledore's fireplace, and walked straight into the bright green flames.
The principal's office was silent. There was only the sleepwalking ticking of the grandfather clock's hands, the rustling of celestial constellations sliding across the ceiling, and the bubbling of bubbles bubbling from the cabinet where the Pensieve was stored.
Dumbledore said nothing, looking somewhat thoughtful as he sipped his tea, occasionally glancing at the pale boy sitting in front of him.
Draco was also drinking tea. He wasn't looking at Dumbledore, but was staring at the upright tea stem bobbing in his cup.
As he finished his tea, Sirius emerged from the fireplace, bringing Kreacher with him.
Kreacher was still the same, thin, half a man's height, with pale skin full of wrinkles, a bunch of white hair growing out of his bat-like ears, and a dirty rag with no aesthetic appeal.
It clearly lacked respect for its current master. Although it followed Sirius around, seemingly obedient, Draco did not miss the undisguised contempt it occasionally revealed when it raised its head.
Sirius sat back in his wheelchair, a look of disgust on his face. "Alright, I brought it. Don't keep me in suspense. Just tell me what you want to say."
"I need Kreacher to answer a few questions for me." Draco said, looking at Kreacher.
"An uneducated master who won't let anyone sleep in the middle of the night," Kreacher ignored the boy in front of him and began to complain in a hoarse voice like a bullfrog, "with that blood traitor who likes foreign wizards and the thieving bastard born to the respected Mistress Cissy—"
"Shut up and stop swearing," Sirius said angrily. "Draco Malfoy has a question for you, and I order you to answer him. Tell the truth. Do you understand?"
"Yes." Kreacher bowed and muttered to his knees. His lips moved silently, no doubt uttering some insulting words.
"When you last saw me, you mentioned 'the master's belongings'. Were you referring to Master Regulus' belongings?" Draco asked.
After a moment's silence, Kreacher straightened up and looked at Draco's face with hatred. He replied, "Yes."
"What is it?" Draco asked eagerly.
Kreacher's expression was grim, as if he had some deep hatred for Draco. He clutched his throat, stared at him intently, and refused to speak.
"Take your pretentious hands off me and tell me!" Sirius ordered him.
"A gold locket." Kreacher closed his eyes unbearably, as if saying this was the greatest betrayal to his beloved master.
A locket! Sure enough! This could very well be Slytherin's locket! Draco's heart pounded against his ribs.
Dumbledore, who was sipping his second cup of hot tea, finally straightened up. He put down the cup and stared at Kreacher through his glasses with his blue eyes.
"What golden locket?" Sirius finally became interested, and he was full of doubts: "Where did it come from? What does Regulus have to do with it? Kreacher, tell us everything you know about this locket, and all the connections between Regulus and it!"
The elf trembled and began to sway from side to side.
Draco could hear the oppression in its low voice, which was very clear in the quiet early morning hours.
"Master Regulus had always been well-mannered. He knew the meaning of the Black name and his own noble pure-blood. For years, he had spoken of the Dark Lord, the one who would bring wizards out of hiding and rule over Muggles and Muggle-borns... At the age of sixteen, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord's order. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve... Then one day, a year after he joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. He said that the Dark Lord needed a house-elf. Master Regulus had always been fond of Kreacher... Kreacher must do whatever the Dark Lord commanded and return home safely."
Kreacher shook himself, his panting turning into sobs. Sirius frowned and said, "Go on."
"Kreacher came to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord took Kreacher to a cave by the sea. Deep inside the cave was a cave, and in the cave was a large black lake, with a boat, and on the island was a basin full of potion. The Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it." The house-elf was trembling from head to toe.
Dumbledore rubbed his gray beard and seemed lost in thought.
"Kreacher drank it, and saw terrible things while he was drinking it. It was as if fire was burning inside Kreacher, and Kreacher drank all the potions. The Dark Lord placed a box in the empty basin. He filled it with more potions. Then the Dark Lord rowed the boat away, leaving Kreacher alone on the island..." The elf shuddered, and fell into terrible memories.
"...Kreacher needed water, so he crawled to the edge of the island and drank water from the black lake. Many dead hands stretched out from the water and pulled Kreacher underwater." Kreacher's expression looked very terrified.
"I suppose it was an Inferi." Dumbledore frowned deeply and asked in a voice almost whispering, "How did you escape?"
Kreacher raised his ugly head, stared at Dumbledore with bloodshot eyes, and stammered.
"Answer him!" said Sirius.
"Master Regulus asked Kreacher to come back." Kreacher said in a long voice, his cloudy eyes blinking nervously, "Master asked Kreacher to come home, so Kreacher is back."
Draco imagined that escaping home from such a sea of blood and corpses must have been a horrific experience.
"What happened after you came back?" Sirius finally let go of his reserve and stared at the elf. "Did you tell Regulus? What did he say?"
"Master Regulus was very worried," Kreacher's voice was hoarse and drawling, like an old, decaying bellows. "He told Kreacher to stay in the house. One night, Master Regulus came to his cupboard looking for Kreacher. He wanted Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave that Kreacher had visited with the Dark Lord..."
Draco could roughly imagine the old house-elf and the 18-year-old boy Regulus following the same route, trembling all over as they returned to the cave filled with the smell of death.
The Dark Lord would never have imagined that the cave he thought was safe was escaped by the house-elf he despised, and the secrets he thought no one knew were revealed completely.
Kreacher knew how to get to the hidden entrance of the cave and how to summon the boat. Under the guidance of the loyal Kreacher, Regulus rowed the boat back to the island where the stone basin filled with poison was.
But why did Regulus go to such great lengths to get to that cave?
"He made you drink the poison again?" Sirius asked in disgust.
Hearing this, Kreacher let out a wail. The old elf shook his head furiously, his large, wrinkled ears crackling, his voice choked with sobs.
"Master Regulus pulled a box similar to the Dark Lord's from his pocket," Kreacher said, tears streaming down the sides of his big nose. "He told Kreacher to keep it with him, and once the stone basin was empty, to replace the box..."
The house-elf wailed so shrilly that Draco had to concentrate hard to discern the words amidst the cries.
After hearing this, he finally had an idea, a suspicion, a possibility that he had never considered in his previous life.
—Regulus betrayed the Dark Lord.
He took the risk and let Kreacher take him back to the cave in order to get the locket.
Maybe he noticed something.
He might have guessed something.
He might know it was a Horcrux.
"He also ordered Kreacher to leave him. He told Kreacher to go home and not tell the mistress what he had done, and to destroy the first box. He drank all the poison, and Kreacher changed the box and watched Master Regulus being dragged under the water..." Kreacher said sadly.
The unsolved mystery of the Black family - why Regulus died and where he was buried - was finally revealed today.
"Oh, Merlin! What an idiot he is!" Sirius sighed.
Draco caught a hint of pain in Sirius's tone, and he himself was also in great shock and couldn't calm down for a long time.
Who could have imagined that there was such a hidden story behind the death of Regulus Black?
There are several theories within the Black family about Regulus's death: some believe that Regulus was secretly executed by the Dark Lord because he had done something wrong; others believe that he was afraid and wanted to quit halfway, but was rejected and murdered by Voldemort; others believe that he escaped or encountered an unforeseen accident...
In any case, his ultimate end is certain—death—for the dulled gold thread of Blake's family tapestry has already signaled the end of his life.
Who could have imagined that he was willing to die for betraying the Dark Lord? Draco was speechless, his heart agitated.
Regulus Arcturus Black did such a big thing behind everyone's back, and carried such a dark and heavy secret with his young life that carried the bright hopes of his fathers. In the end, he fell silently to the bottom of the cold lake full of corpses.
He was only 18 years old. Just one year older than Draco in his previous life. Just a wizard who had just reached adulthood.
What kind of determination did he have to do such a fatal thing?
In one of the portraits in the headmaster's office, Phineas Nigellus Black, a former headmaster of Hogwarts, covers his face with his hands, tears streaming from between his fingers. His mournful voice echoes through the headmaster's office, "My poor great-great-grandson..."
"You took the box home, didn't you?" Dumbledore, the only calm figure in the headmaster's office, continued questioning Kreacher, determined to get the whole story. "Did you destroy it?"
"No matter what Kreacher did, he couldn't leave a mark on it," the elf panted, his voice thick with despair. "Kreacher tried everything... and nothing worked! There were so many powerful spells cast on the box. Kreacher was sure the only way to destroy it was from the inside, but Kreacher never opened it. Kreacher had failed to carry out his orders! Kreacher could not destroy the box!"
Every word Kreacher spoke was filled with tears and blood, and the sobbing never stopped.
Dumbledore frowned slightly.
Kreacher cried even more bitterly, "The mistress is so sad that she has gone mad, because Master Regulus is missing, and Kreacher cannot tell her what happened in the cave. No! Master Regulus forbids him to tell anyone in the family about anything that happened in the cave..."
Suddenly, Kreacher's eyes widened.
"Kreacher was wrong! Kreacher told Master Sirius! Master Sirius was expelled from the Black family a long time ago. He should not be considered a member of the family! But—" Kreacher said fearfully, "Master Sirius is now the head of the family, which means—"
The confused old elf suddenly let out a creepy scream.
"No!" he cried, struggling, "Master Sirius is still a member of the family! Kreacher disobeyed Master Regulus's orders!"
Kreacher rushed to the poker standing in front of the fireplace, trying to punish himself for disobeying his master's orders.
Draco had anticipated this move from the house-elf. He quickly pounced on the elf and pinned it down. Kreacher, on the other hand, seemed insulted. He wailed, muttering silent curses and struggling even harder.
Draco felt disgusted with the elf. It was so dirty that it was unbearable, and its mouth was so filthy that it was outrageous.
But he had to continue pressing it, because the secret in its mouth was too important, even surpassing his deep dislike for Kreacher.
Sirius roared: "Kreacher, I order you not to move and not to cry out!" Kreacher did not move.
Draco let him go and saw him lying flat on the cold stone, tears streaming from under his loose eyelids.
"Tell me, Kreacher, where is the box?" Draco asked anxiously.
Kreacher ignored Draco and continued to twitch and cry.
"Stand up and answer as he demands!" Sirius said with red eyes.
"It's you! You little Malfoy brat! You took it!" Kreacher jumped up, spat on the carpet, and stared at the platinum-haired boy in front of him with red eyes.
The eyes of the entire room were focused on Draco.