"Why are you saying that about him?" Sirius frowned. "I knew what kind of person Regulus was."
"He wasn't as twisted as Snape,"
"But he was definitely no good guy either. He couldn't wait to join the Death Eaters before even graduating. Even Snape waited until after he finished school."
"He was…"
He cast a disgusted glance at Kreacher. "He was the Black family's most prized heir."
"That evil, rotten, decaying Black family."
Kreacher clenched his tiny fists.
Harry tapped the Sorting Hat with his wand, and the Slytherin locket flew out, landing gently on the table. "Professor Dumbledore tracked down a Horcrux. We went after it—he even suffered quite a bit getting there."
"But we found someone had beaten us to it."
"The Horcrux was gone. A fake had been swapped in."
Kreacher stared at the locket in disbelief.
Harry waved his wand again—the locket opened, and the note floated into Sirius's hand. "All that was inside was this."
"It's Regulus's handwriting," Sirius recognized it instantly.
He might have disliked the other Black, but Regulus was still his brother.
The note wasn't long. He quickly finished reading it, then looked up at his godson, stunned. "He… he?"
Harry nodded. "We suspect Voldemort entrusted the Black family with guarding this Horcrux. But maybe Regulus discovered something…"
"No, that's not it," Kreacher burst out loudly.
All three turned to the somewhat dazed, half-crazed old house-elf.
"Kreacher, what do you know?" Dumbledore asked gently, reaching out and soothing him with a sprinkle of magic.
Harry conjured a stool for him.
Kreacher sat down. "The Dark Lord didn't give the locket to young master to guard."
"Young master found it himself. He was very clever… very sharp."
All three fell silent—even Sirius managed to restrain himself and listen.
"Sirius was a bad boy," Kreacher said with a softness he had never used before. "He was mischievous. Ever since he entered Gryffindor, he made the mistress angry. The house was always in chaos because of him."
"The mistress was very unhappy."
"But luckily, he soon left. The Black family still had Regulus—a good child. Obedient. Never angered the mistress."
"When he was sixteen, under her influence, Regulus became a Death Eater. He proudly served the Dark Lord."
"But after that, young master rarely came home. Back then, Kreacher wasn't like now—Kreacher dedicated everything to this house. Young master didn't return often, but it was still his home. Unlike Sirius—this wasn't his home anymore. That Potter boy was."
"Young master liked Kreacher. He trusted Kreacher. Told him everything."
"From how much he worshipped the Dark Lord… how pure-bloods would rise again under his lead…"
"But later, young master became disillusioned. The Dark Lord he learned about and the one he saw with his own eyes—they were two different people."
"All that senseless killing—did it really mean anything?"
Kreacher's face filled with confusion. He was just a house-elf, yearning to serve. He didn't understand.
Sirius shrank into the sofa, silent.
Harry and Dumbledore kept their expressions calm.
Kreacher tilted his head and continued, "Kreacher didn't understand. Kreacher was a bad elf. Young master grew sadder every day, and Kreacher could do nothing."
"Until one day, young master returned… he said the Dark Lord needed a house-elf."
"Of course, contributing to the Dark Lord's cause was something every Death Eater wanted."
"Kreacher was brave. Even though it was the Dark Lord, Kreacher volunteered. Maybe it would make young master happy again? Kreacher was wrong. Kreacher made the biggest mistake. Kreacher got young master killed."
Sirius stared at Kreacher in disbelief.
He almost leapt up, ready to throttle the elf—but paused, controlling himself. He had learned, after all, that house-elves couldn't kill their masters. Maybe it was something else. He kept listening.
Harry and Dumbledore were quietly relieved.
Kreacher went on, "The Dark Lord took Kreacher to a seaside cave. Deep inside was a vast black lake. In the center—an island. On it was a basin filled with potion."
"The Dark Lord ordered Kreacher to drink it."
"Kreacher obeyed. It was terrible—like burning alive. Painful memories flooded in: failing the mistress when Kreacher first became a house-elf, young master's growing sorrow, Sirius fighting with the mistress and never returning…"
"Kreacher wanted young master to save him—but the Dark Lord ignored me, a lowly elf. He put a locket—the same kind as that one—into the basin, and left."
"Kreacher almost died there."
"Luckily, young master had ordered Kreacher to return. So he did."
Harry asked, "Was it the same locket on the table—or just a very similar one?"
"The same kind," Kreacher said immediately. He looked at Harry with more warmth than he ever gave Sirius. "Though the Dark Lord told me never to speak of it—he's not Kreacher's master. Only young master is."
"Kreacher told young master everything, thinking it would cheer him up."
"But it only made him worse. He ordered Kreacher not to leave, not even to clean the house, then disappeared for a long time."
Kreacher's voice trembled with tears.
"When he returned, he was exhausted… unstable. He had Kreacher take him to the cave."
Harry and Dumbledore understood.
The fake locket was here. Kreacher was here. They could imagine what happened next.
"That poison—Kreacher was supposed to drink it. But young master didn't let him. He drank it himself. Took the locket. Gave Kreacher the fake one to replace it."
"He ordered Kreacher to return home. Not to speak of it—not even to the mistress. And to destroy the locket—no matter what, even at the cost of his life."
His voice became frightened.
"Then the lake erupted. The creatures underneath—the Inferi—they attacked in swarms."
"Kreacher watched helplessly as young master was dragged under… and became one of them."
Sirius clenched his fists, teeth grinding. "Why didn't you take Regulus and leave? Use your elf magic! You've left before!"
Kreacher clutched his head. "Kreacher is a useless elf. Kreacher couldn't."
"Kreacher couldn't."
Dumbledore explained, "There were spells there preventing human Apparition."
"Even Fawkes couldn't take me in or out via Apparition."
Sirius fell silent, staring hard at the note.
"Do you still have the locket he took?" Harry asked gently.
Kreacher nodded. "Kreacher has tried for years. But Kreacher is a useless elf. Kreacher couldn't destroy it."
"It's too strong."
"We can destroy it," Harry said. "Give it to us."
Kreacher hesitated, looking at Harry.
"Kreacher, that's an order!" Sirius snapped. "Give it to Harry—and Professor Dumbledore."
"They've been fighting… you-know… Voldemort all along."
"They've already destroyed several Horcruxes."
Kreacher stood up, muttering, "Kreacher always kept it close. Especially after that thief came sniffing around the Black house. Kreacher had to make sure it wouldn't be stolen."
Crack!
He vanished.
Sirius collapsed into the sofa. "I never really knew Regulus."
"He…"
"He was a fine Hogwarts student," Dumbledore said. "And a fine Slytherin."
Sirius leaned his head back, eyes closed. "Harry… did you find Regulus?"
"He deserves a funeral."
Harry's voice softened. "Sorry, godfather. When we arrived, the Inferi had been removed from the lakebed."
"By Voldemort?" Sirius asked.
Harry nodded. "Mm."
"Harry… thank Merlin for you," Sirius whispered. "Without you, I don't know what I'd do."
"Can I join Neville's dueling classes?"
Harry nodded again. "We've always needed someone to teach."
"You're the one who taught me," Sirius clenched his fists.
He paused, murmuring softly: "Regulus Black."
"I think… I finally understand Mother."
"Kreacher was right. He was a true heir of the Black family."
He bit his lip hard, holding back emotion.
Crack!
Kreacher reappeared, clutching a far finer Slytherin locket in both hands. "Kreacher brought it."
"Kreacher has one request: let Kreacher watch as you destroy it."
----------
Powerstones?
For 20 advance chapters: patreon.com/michaeltranslates