The Warrior's Way
As promised, I am back.
This chapter would be nothing new but an installment to the book, and I sincerely hope that you like it.
This is perhaps the end of the third year, and I am as sure as I can be that I would start the fourth year by the next one.
Nothing major to say here, hope you like it, and of course, I don't own Harry Potter.
Chapter-13: Unknown Hero
'A hero is somebody who voluntarily walks into the unknown.'
Never in his wildest dream, he had thought about coming back to this place, and yet here he was.
His old home brought back many memories that were not pleasant. It was never the place he liked or the place he wished to spend time in.
The memories were dark, hateful and the source of many nightmares.
The nightmares in which he would see being subjected to Cruciatus by his mother being a disgrace, and not being a proper black.
His brother, Regulus was always everyone's favorite, and he was not. Just because he was not sorted into the house of slimy snakes.
He wanted to be free. Freedom was not something he could have.
He had watched everyone standing there with blank faces when he was getting abused. For that, he hated them with every fiber of his bones.
At first, he had been denied and lashed at his Godson for even suggesting him for becoming Lord Black. Black was never the name he wanted to wear.
He had been consoled later, and he came back to light.
The light that had drowned by the eternal darkness of his childhood.
There were some that had stood at his side. Whether it was his grandmother, aunt Dorea, James, or anyone. Few were by his side, and he was content with them.
His grandfather was always a political bastard, he cared more about the prestige of House of Black than its members. Although he was now understanding why he was doing that, a hollow void was left by his side.
At that time, it seemed everyone was his enemy except Aunt Dorea and Grandmother Melania. If he had to describe his childhood, then it would be the moments with them. The two people had a soft spot for him.
No one. Not a single person ever tried to understand him. His cousins- Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa.
Her blood curdled at the thought of his eldest cousin. Bellatrix had been a lunatic since her birth. There was no point in getting close to her. All she talked about was how purebloods were superior to mudbloods. She had always been a bully since her school years.
If now he would ever get his hands on her, he would annihilate her, right on the spot.
His gaze softened considerably at the thought of her, Andromeda. The one who had been there for him. She was perhaps his favorite, but the burden from the school work and assignments gave her a little time to spend with him. Also, she was mostly at Hogwarts for a year.
And when he reached Hogwarts, he got his own lot of friends, so did she.
Well, there was nothing to say about his youngest cousin, Narcissa. Narcissa was Narcissa. Always loved to be in the limelight, she had some good qualities but it was always overshadowed by her rudeness and prideful behavior.
She became colder after marrying the blonde ponce.
He could not change the past, but he was looking forward to the future. The future that he was going to make with his Godson, and the people he loved.
"You alright there?"
His gaze swept over to his Godson who was patting his snake, Mira whilst drinking a cup of coffee.
"Y-yeah. Just thinking about some stuff," he murmured, his mind still filled with thoughts.
"You have been thinking a lot lately," Harry noted. "Any problems?"
He deflated audibly. Harry was stubborn, perhaps the most stubborn boy he had ever met, "Yeah, no."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
He sighed again, "No, I am not alright. For Merlin's sake, Harry, it had been 18 freaking years since I last visited that place."
It was true, he had left -or rather ran away from- his home.
"It's all gonna be alright, it is not like there would be Death Eaters," Harry assured him.
"I am more scared about my mother than Death Eaters. That old harpy would be shouting throughout the day. Merlin knows how many portraits she ordered to be made of herself." He huffed annoyingly.
His Godson just shrugged, "We'll just burn them if they become any problem."
"I plan to do it, even if they don't, and that can not happen because my mother was a reincarnation of Devil," he replied.
The Potter Lord shook his head with exasperation, "Whatever." He just shrugged. "Where is Remus, by the way? He said he would be arriving by now," he continued.
"I am here, not with Remus. How would I know?" He snapped at him.
"I am here," The new voice in the hall interrupted their argument.
"You apparated, huh?" Harry mumbled as he took another bite of the sandwich he had asked Tipsy to bring.
"You are suddenly feeling hungry," Sirius noted.
"I can not control my hunger," Boy Who Lived retorted as he took another big bite of the sandwich. He looked at Remus, and his face turned into a scowl, "I just can't understand why they would fire you, Remus." Harry informed grimly.
Remus deflated, "People don't like their children taught by a werewolf, Harry." He answered him.
"Well then, they are assholes," Harry huffed indignantly.
"Language!" Remus returned.
"What? I am telling the truth, they are assholes." Harry again pointed out.
Remus turned to him, "Sirius, at least, you teach him to curb his language."
"Well," he drawled. "He is right, they are assholes."
Remus sighed in annoyance, "You too?"
"Who do you think to tell the students? After all, you were taking the wolfsbane every month, weren't you?" Harry questioned, getting the attention back to himself.
"I was," Remus agreed. "I have many suspicions but just couldn't understand why they would do it."
He smirked, "Wait 'suspicions' or 'suspicion.'"
"Well, I have only one suspect," Remus agreed.
"Snape," Harry piped up.
"Yeah," Remus huffed.
"That greasy git," Harry grumbled.
"It's not like we could do anything, Harry," Remus told him. "Shouldn't we be going by now?"
"Yep. Grab my hand."
"Wait, we are going to apparate?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows.
"Yup, I don't even know whether the floo works or not."
{SCENE BREAK}
Coming from behind the bushes irate him a little but he managed. He had been a little more familiar with Apparition but the uneasy feeling that it brought never failed to make him annoyed.
Coughing slightly as he felt slight weirdness in his body, he looked at the Grimmauld Place in front of him.
There were no 12, only 11 and 13.
"So, where is it? Your home."
Sirius pointed in the middle of 11 and 13 and smirked. Remus' eyebrows were furrowed, but he understood it, "Fidelius?" He guessed. After him saying this, realization dawned over Remus too.
Sirius bobbed his head, "Yup. It has various wards like Blood wards, and fidelius but since I have Black blood, I just have to cast… one spell, and I would be the secret keeper." Sirius took out his wand but was punched by him.
He winced slightly, rubbing his nose, "What happened?" He asked.
"You know, this is a muggle area, at least wear a disillusionment or something… or hide somewhere," He answered, at the back, Remus seemed to nod furiously.
"Fine," The dog animagus huffed but was kicked on his thigh.
He winced again, "Now what happened?" He questioned, more like shouted.
"Do it fast, you mangy mutt," he chastised him, at the back, Remus chortled.
Sirius shook his head in exasperation but began mumbling something as he focused his attention somewhere else.
He looked at the cars and bikes that were going across the street. Every time he came back from Hogwarts he noticed that something new had been invented by muggles, and it was useful.
They knew how to fall, they had various sports, unlike the magical population who were fanatics of Quidditch only.
If one would see precisely, then one would notice that muggles had nearly everything they had. They could fly, they had wars, they had cannons, and most of all they had science.
Muggles had their own personal killing curse, a pistol. First made by Samuel Colt, it was introduced because -according to Samuel- it would stop the war. It increased.
Just like the Killing Curse. It was introduced in a hope that it would stop a war, but it increased only.
Bombs. The theory was given by Albert Einstein, considered as one of the greatest minds. He never directly worked to make a bomb, but it was his initiative that hyped the USA up in the research of bombs, and his theory e=mc^2.
Energy and mass are interchangeable, it said. A simple theory said by him could lead to something so destructive. It was introduced in the hopes to stop a war, but it increased only.
Right now, Voldemort and any of his would not see the true muggles, in their eyes, they were just weak and miserable.
But a muggle with a gun was dangerous. More so than a wizard with a wand. The bullet could reach a speed that a killing curse could only hope for.
One bullet at the heart, and then a healer would not be able to save one that was subjected to it. If ever the Wizarding Population declared war on the muggles, they would lose. Miserably. They would be outnumbered.
Muggles had nuclear powers, the one that was able to destroy a city with ease. Examples were Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
If ever a Dark Lord would cross the boundary of tolerance, they would feel the wrath of muggles, and perhaps, the entire Wizarding Population would be wiped out.
He was interrupted from his reverie when he heard a loud sound of rocks grinding against each other. He looked in the direction of the sound.
He was not surprised to see that number 12 was appearing from between 11 and 13, it was another wonder in the magical world.
He looked at Remus and Sirius, both of their eyes shimmering widely as they looked at the place they were going to stay for the summer.
Sirius might be familiar with the place, but it would bring his old memories, and for Remus… it would be another new experience.
He looked at a muggle that was passing by and noticed that he was completely unaware of what had occurred.
"Let's go," Sirius murmured in his soft voice. "Don't worry Remus, I have allowed you the entry here… by replacing some wards."
Remus arched an eyebrow but nodded. "Let's go then."
They trotted the street with careful steps, because of the intercepting vehicles that came into their way. The scent of smoke was disliked by many, and he was no different. They reached the pedestal of the smooth stone, as they opened the acacia gate.
Immediately, they were greeted by the dunes of dust that invaded their nostrils making them cough.
Recovering slightly earlier than the other, he retrieved his wand from the holster and asked for some cleaning and air-conditioning charms there.
Remus and Sirius still were coughing. So, he had a little time to look around. There were some old dirty carpets along with the chandeliers which ever so slightly touched.
But what got his attention was the figures of snakes. Horned Serpent, Basilisk, Sea Serpent, and all kinds of snakes.
The family had an intolerable obsession with snakes. Mira would love along here. Speaking of Mira, she was in his Class Five trunk that was held in his pocket. Hedwig's cage was in the trunk, and he was sure that either one of them would be clearing at the other.
"Bloody hell, Padfoot, your family is crazier than I thought them to be," Remus' voice gathered his attention.
He agreed, this was another madness. "Was this house touched during these years?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed.
Sirius gave him a shake, "Nah, no one could have accessed beside me." He replied.
"Any house-elf?" He was eager to ask this particular question. Surely a prominent family like Black would have a house-elf.
Sirius sighed, "Well, there is one. But he isn't exactly friendly."
"At least, call him. It would take some time to call Dobby and Tipsy because of wizards," he retorted. Remus seemed to agree with him.
"Well then," he deflated. "Kreacher!"
With a LOUD crack, a house-elf appeared in front of them. This one looked very old, albeit. Its pointy ears had fallen, along with his bad posture, and rough features that had various marks.
"You! Bad Master calls creature! Blood Traitor brings more of his mudbloods friends! You is not welcome here!" The old elf started throwing insults at Sirius.
He raised an eyebrow, was the elf manic? He looked at the werewolf who was watching the scene with great interest. Well, he stopped when Sirius roared at 'Kreacher,' "Kreacher!" Sirius thundered, "You would obey me from now one, and stop with the insults!"
"Kreacher would obey the bad master!"
"Lord Black," Sirius continued. "You will be addressed as Lord Black."
"Kreacher obeys Lord Black. Does Lord Black have any work for Kreacher?"
"Yes," the Black Lord sniffed. "I want the house cleaned as soon as possible, also bring any and all Dark Artefacts to me for inspection."
Kreacher grunted and bowed, and disappeared with another crack.
"Bloody hell! What happened to that elf?" Remus found his voice finally and interrogated the Black Lord.
"My mother happened," Sirius replied after a second. "She has corrupted the mind of the elf. Not like he was any better before."
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "'has' not 'have?'" He quipped.
"Yes 'has.' She would have some bloody portraits here that I would either burn or she would keep her mouth shut."
Kreacher appeared again, saying that the hall had been cleaned. "Let's go there," He interrupted them. "I am calling Dobby and Tipsy."
Sirius nodded, so did Remus. It was not so long before Dobby and Tipsy came to the house, and began helping the two elves.
He was led to the hall by Kreacher, and he was sure by now that the family was crazily obsessed with snakes. There were snakes everywhere. For no reason at all, where the people would set a historic portrait, the Blacks kept the portraits of Basilisk, horned serpents. Hell, sometimes he even spotted the portrait of Salazar Slytherin.
Feeling slightly thirsty, he went to the doorway in the hopes of finding the kitchen. Sure, it would be easier just to call one elf, and ask them to bring the water. But he was not in the mood to interrupt them in their work, also he would have some time to explore the bedroom
The hallways were nothing less than beautiful. They were made of spruce wood, with almost every side having a room.
After having returned from the kitchen, he took a glass of water and gulped it one go. The kitchen was still yet to be cleaned but was not as bad as the other parts of the home.
The floor was slightly cracked, considering the sounds that it made after some heavy steps.
"Who are you?!" A tight, shrill voice attained his attention.
He turned in the direction of the sound. It was a portrait of a very beautiful woman that had dark chocolate brown hair, and exotic features. She might be beautiful if she did not have that scowl on her face. She was Walburga Black; mother of Sirius that had a mouth of a harpy.
He smirked internally of what he was going to do.
"Harry," he murmured in a soft reply.
She arched an eyebrow, "Harry…." Her voice was still confined and constricted as she looked at him with undisguised disdain.
"Slytherin, Harry Slytherin." He replied with a smirk on his face.
Nigh immediately the woman bowed to him, "I apologize, my lord for not recognizing you before."
Harry tilted his head slightly as he smirked. The woman was as he expected, prideful. She had excessive pride that she let go of her head. Blood supremacist, arrogant, brash, and ignorant were some more words he could say in her description.
"How have you come to our humble abode, my lord?" She continued solemnly.
"Your son," he started. "Sirius had invited me here for a summer." He answered. The woman's face turned into a scowl after hearing the name of her eldest son.
"That blood traitor," Walburga snarled in disdain.
He nodded, "Indeed." He answered, "But I must tell you 'the blood traitor' is now Lord Black." He informed her after slight agitation.
"That should not be true!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, "I had disowned that bastard!"
"It seemed that your attempts were futile, Lady Black," Harry stated with an untraceable smirk on his face.
"Indeed," she grumbled but tried to maintain her calm demeanor. "What happened to the Dark Lord, my lord?"
Harry sighed in faux sadness, "Unfortunately when he tried to murder, his killing curse rebounded off me."
"Why would he try to murder you, my lord?" She continued with her question.
"That Dark Lord was nothing but a half-bastard, and he thought that I was a threat to his existence, unfortunately, I had to use old, ancient archaic magic to kill him! Your son, Regulus, was murdered by the Dark Lord." He spat.
By now, Walburga was seething. Firstly at the news, that the Lord she served was nothing but a half-breed, and secondly- the same Dark Lord had killed her Regulus. Had Regulus been alive, then he would have been managing the mantle of the House of Black, not that blood traitor.
She did not notice the fact that he told her that he killed the Dark Lord at such a young age.
Harry's lips twitched into a ghost of the smirk as his plan succeeded. Now Walburga would neither shout, nor she would complain about how much of a disgrace Sirius was.
Slight manipulation and everything was alright. He gulped the last water content of the glass, as he bowed to the portrait in front of him, "I would see you later, my lady."
She bowed back, and mumbled, "Indeed." With a smirk, he trotted his way to the hall.
{SCENE BREAK}
The sheets rustled as he became uncomfortable. He was feeling suddenly… hot these days, and he was always up during this late, thanks to his insomnia.
"No, please do not! Please do not take Harry! Have mercy!"
With heavy breaths he woke up, those dreams still plagued him, and they would as long as he lived. He was covered in sweat. His face, back, body, all were sweaty.
He shook his head violently in the hope to remove those nightmares, but to no avail! With slight haste, he retrieved his wand from his pocket.
He sometimes missed his old Phoenix feather wand, but it was better for him than the previous one after the Horcrux was removed.
With a flick of the thirteen inches dark yew, the wand lit on its tip giving him the brighter view of his bedroom. He checked the air conditioning charm.
Perfectly fine.
He checked again, and they were working as they were supposed to be. He placed his hand on his temple and checked his temperature.
It was also perfectly fine.
He took a moment to register that everything was fine, as his breaths calmed down a little. With a shrug, he got off the bed. He glanced for Mira and Hedwig, both were in deep slumber.
Well, not Hedwig since she was gone hunting and it was her domain at night.
He looked for his slippers, he was not in the mood to summon them. With another flick of his wand, he cast the Tempus charm.
"4: 30, huh?" He murmured softly, he had a lot of time before going to his daily schedule. The training with the goblins had ended a week ago, so he had a lot of time in the morning.
Albeit, he had not left his daily workout, he had a lot of time in the morning and that time also led him to wake up late… or normally.
'Now what?' He breathed out with his hands on his waist. 'Water,' he mused, suddenly feeling thirsty.
He grabbed the doorknob and unlocked the door. The same old cranky floor. "Dobby!" He called the elf that appeared and bowed in front of him.
During the days in Potter Manor, Dobby's overzealous attitude had lessened a lot, turning him into a calm, yet happy elf.
Apparently, there were some cooking competitions in Potter Manor between elves like- who would make the best food? In those competitions, Dobby had been a runner-up coming second to Tipsy.
"Can you bring me a glass of water?" He requested the ex-Malfoy elf.
The elf squeaked in delight, "Of course, Master Great Harry Potter." There. His old habit of calling him did not go till now, and he was sure it never would.
'Let's check the upper floors,' he thought internally as he looked at the staircase. The stairs were much worse and older than he had thought. At a particular time, he got the feeling that they would break, and he would fall.
He reached the first floor and was greeted by the sight of two doors of the room. He looked at his right-
Lord's Study.
Do not enter without the permission of Lord Arcturus Orion Black.
"Arcturus study?" He arched an eyebrow but had no interest in engaging himself in political documents, so it was best to ignore it.
The other room was perhaps interesting, and it attained its attention. "Do not enter without the permission of Regulus Arcturus Black," he muttered as he gazed at the board cryptically.
Sirius' brother. It was one of the biggest regrets in Sirius' life that his brother had become a death eater one day. The two shared a close bond during their childhood, but after the two reached Hogwarts, and Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, the two slowly started to drift.
He was not familiar with the feeling of brotherhood, being the only son, but he could tell by the eyes of Sirius that always softened at the mention of his brother.
He wanted to take a look at the room. His head snapped as Dobby appeared with a glass of water in front of him.
With slight reluctance, he opened the knob. The protective charms were easily cut off by him because of their weak nature.
The dust started twirling in the gust of air that was supplied to the room as he opened the door. The room with its current state seemed that it had not been accessed in years. With a few twirls of his wand, he cleaned the room and made it presentable.
Slow steps and he moved to take a glimpse of the room. The room was normal-sized, with a two-story bed, a study table, and dressing table, and a cupboard. But what got his attention was the amulet that was placed delicately on the study table.
It was in octagonal shape with yellow ruby perched upon with a snake designed inside the ruby with a pure silver chain.
He moved towards it, his eyes still not leaving the work of beauty. Coming at a close distance to the locket, he deflated out, "Locket of Salazar Slytherin."
He was about to grab it, but there was something off about it. It was a possibility that it was fake, why would a Black possess it? It must have been Tom's most prized possession and his mark of being a Slytherin.
It did not feel right about its aura. Something was… just not right. It was oozing an uneasy and dark aura. He focused on the locket, as his eyes turned demon red.
"Horcrux," he was trembling with rage. It had the same aura that the previous Tom's Horcrux possessed.
When he was about to touch it with a crack Kreacher appeared in front of him.
"BAD MASTER! TRYING TO STEEL MASTER REGULUS' THINGS!" Kreacher started screaming at him, but with just one glare from Harry.
"Kreacher, stop it! Now, tell me where did you get this from?" He asked the old elf, eyebrows furrowed. "Answer me!" He ordered when the old elf did not say anything.
"Master… Master Regulus gave it to poor Kreacher," The Black elf mumbled, almost unbearably.
Harry found his eyebrows furrowed. Regulus Black. Why would he have a Horcrux? Perhaps, he gave Regulus to protect it, but then why would Regulus give it to Kreacher, a house-elf no less.
"Why did Master Regulus give this locket to you?" He prompted.
"To… To destroy it," Kreacher answered.
Again, several questions swirled in his mind. "Why did Regulus want you to destroy it?"
"Because Master Regulus wanted his Bad master to die."
'Regulus Black wanted Voldemort to die, now that's something,' he mused internally with a frown.
"Where did you get this locket from?" He interrogated the house-elf.
"Kreacher did not get it, Master Regulus gave it to Kreacher from that vile cave."
A cave? "Can you take me to that cave?" He asked the Black elf softly as he kneeled down and looked at him.
Kreacher was looking at him curiously, obviously unaware what the object was, he was trying to see any deceit in him. When he found none, he slowly nodded.
He took the old bony hand and with a crack, they were no longer in Grimmauld Place.
.
.
.
.
The smell that had invaded his nostril could be classified as the most obnoxious smell he had ever scented. The wind that was damp in a strange way, the screech of slow-flowing water, and the smell of flesh, did not go unnoticed by him.
His eyes fluttered as he regained his vision, he was on a small island land that could be occupied by three people at a time, but it had quite a height. In front of him was a pedestal with a misty green light that blended in the darkness of the lake that was the only source of light there. He noticed the two figures of his and Kreacher standing on the still velvety dark water.
In front of him, on a perfectly vertical stone, there stood a locket, the replica of one that he had been holding for quite a time.
He grabbed the locket, and with his slightly shivering hands - due to cold - he grabbed the locket. He showed the locket to the house-elf, "Do you recognize this locket, Kreacher?" He whispered.
Kreacher nodded, "It is a family heirloom of the Black family, Master." He replied, still looking at the locket in awe.
Harry nodded. He noticed the strange lock that was on the locket. He pointed his nail at the steep edge and applied pressure to it. With a 'clunk,' sound, the locket in front opened, revealing an ivory old parchment.
With a cryptical eye, Harry read the letter.
"To the Dark Lord
I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B."
He took a steely glimpse of Kreacher who was looking at him intently. Suddenly he felt the waterlogging as he looked at the cliff of the island.
There were creatures. They were corpses, undead bodies that had been bewitched by Dark Wizards. They were inferi.
The greatest achievement in necromancy was inferi. They were the farthest a Necromancer could go to make a dead man alive, or at least the one that could be commanded. Inferi had not been seen in years, due to the violent process of making them, but considering Voldemort, it was no problem for him
He glanced at the elf who was getting anxious by every second, "Kreacher keep the twp lockets safe, I am coming in a few minutes." He ordered as he handed Kreacher the real and fake Horcrux, Kreacher slowly nodded and disappeared in a crack.
He looked at the Inferi which were coming in at a slow pace. With a wave of his wand, the message of Regulus was engulfed in flames, leaving behind the chars of ashes only.
With another flick of his wand, he conjured a white parchment. He started waving his wand as though writing letters in the piece of parchment. Finally, satisfied with his work, he left the parchment on the chiseled granite.
He looked at the inferi that was unbearably close to him and looked ready to pounce at him at any second.
He concentrated his magic to surround his body to reveal the cold fury that he possessed. He did feel the magic running through his veins and getting supplied to his wand at an unfathomable pace.
With a huge twirl of his wand, he screamed, "Infernus Diabollica!"
A cluster of demonic flames engulfed the inferi, as he heard the screams of agony of the creature. The curse that he now he used was a Potter Family curse. It was made to counter, or at least combat Fiendfyre, unfortunately, the spell managed to restrain the fire for quite some time before the flames died out, and the Fiendfyre won.
As the sheathed agony of the corpses rang in his ears, he felt a little regret. They were used to being a human, a person, but unfortunately, they were turned into the beast that they never wanted to become.
He knew that he would hear these voices more when Voldemort would come back and that he would be the one to kill him.
He looked at the burnt corpses as he surveyed them. The water level of the lake became normal again, as it consumed the corpses.
With that he apparated away, leaving behind the note.
"You failed another one, Tom.
The boy who you failed to kill."
.
.
.
.
Grunting, he appeared in the Grimmauld Place, still not used to the feeling of Apparition. The apparition was taught to the seventh-year for a reason, they had reached their magical maturity, and it placed less strain upon their body and magic.
With another girlish grunt, he opened his eyes to see Kreacher looking at him expectantly.
"Do you have the lockets?" He inquired, arching his right eyebrow.
Kreacher nodded as he handed him the locket of Regulus Black. He shook his head, "The other one," Kreacher handed him the Horcrux as he gave him the Black family locket.
"That," he pointed to the locket, "You can keep it." He told him.
Kreacher looked at him, wide-eyed, "Kreacher can?"
He nodded, "You can," he confirmed as he showed the house-elf the real locket of Salazar Slytherin. "Tell me, Kreacher, what do you want to do with this locket?"
Kreacher swallowed deeply, "Kreacher wants to destroy it," he replied in a hoarse voice.
Harry looked at him skeptically, "And can you?"
A shake.
"Do you want me to destroy it?" He continued further.
Kreacher looked at him filled with emotions of curiosity, cautiousness, and delight, "Why would Master Harry do it?" He questioned with suspicion laced in his voice.
"Because I want the Dark Lord dead, just like master Regulus," he answered in a no-nonsense voice.
"Can… Can Master Harry do it?" He asked with slight agitation.
He nodded, "I can, and just now," he confirmed.
Kreacher inclined his head slowly, "Kreacher would like you to do it, for Master Regulus." he replied barely containing his emotions,
He nodded as he left the room, to go to his bedroom in the search of Basilisk, he would tell about the Horcrux to Salazar later, but firstly, he would get rid of the vile abomination. Keeping in the house was irresponsible but Kreacher did not know.
He took the Basilisk fang in his hand, as he gawked at it. It was still covered by the Basilisk venom and the long tooth still oozed an eerie aura around it.
With leaden steps, he went back to the room in which the old elf was waiting for him.
At that sole moment, he realized that the life of Kreacher was tough, much like his own and like Dobby's.
He had suffered, perhaps not in a physical way, (he was unaware of it) but in a mental way. Kreacher was the proud elf of House of Black, one of the ruling houses in magical Britain, he had served the House of Black throughout his entire life.
Seeing the downfall of the same house that you had grown to attach to could be heart attacking, also the harping of… Walburga.
'Ignore it,' he chastised himself, shaking head with haste. He focused his eyes on Kreacher.
Entering the room, it did not go unnoticed by him that Kreacher's gaze was following. Taking out the locket he placed it on the oak desk.
"Kreacher now, I am going to destroy it so back off for a second," he commanded as the old elf compiled his wish. The old wrinkly eyes of Kreacher were still looking at the locket.
"It is a locket huh?" He muttered inaudibly. "There must be a key to open it, right? Is it in the cave? Nah, fat chances, it would get misplaced likely. Slytherin family ring? Nope, Tom never possessed it. Wait…. Slytherin… That is it!"
He took a step back as he looked at the locket with a cryptic eye. "Open," he hissed in Parseltongue as the locket snapped open to reveal… a puff of smoke?
For a moment he thought that it was the wayward soul, but it was quickly denied when he searched for any Dark Aura around it and found none.
The black puff of smoke, dispatched and quickly shaped into an oval-shaped mirror. But it was not a surprising fact, the two figures that appeared from the puff of smokes took him aback.
At the right side was a bundle of auburn hair with the green mesmerizing eyes much like his own. The figure was clearly depicting his mother, Lily.
On the left side, stood a figure in his twenties with the most chiseled features, and raven black hair, and hazel eyes.
But instead of smiling as they were supposed to, they were scowling and looking at him with undisguised loathes.
"We are ashamed of you, Harry," Lily voiced out.
"You are not our son," James continued.
"I regret saving you, I should have saved my life instead of yours," Lily sneered at him.
"Indeed, we should have just given you to Voldemort, he would get a mate for himself," James snorted as he looked at him with disdain.
"You are not our son," They both chorused.
For about what it felt like an eternity, he remained silent, his eyes looking directly at the floor, and not muttering a word. "No," he murmured finally. "You both are illusions," they were about to retort, but too late. They were stabbed right in the middle with the Basilisk fang as the black liquid started seeping out through them.
The liquid evaporated right after a second when he deflated audibly. "Kreacher, you can keep the locket," he told tiredly as the old elf nodded and apparated away.
Grabbing the nearest chair, he slumped into it. Finding Horcrux easier was perhaps easier than destroying, one had to supply magical energy in the object to destroy it.
"Four down. Three to go," he muttered, snorting slightly at the accident that had him stumbled in the Horcrux directly, and an unknown legend.
The world might not be about how Regulus sacrificed himself, but he knew and would always respect the man.
With another tired sigh, he took the quill AKA the portkey to Chambers of Secret. He had to talk with Salazar, after all.
Hope you enjoyed it.
So, the main purpose of the chapter was the Horcrux. Only three are left, and I can assure you that they would not be dealt with any time soon, that I can promise.
Otherwise, the story would turn boring. Because one killing curse at Voldie, and he dies.
I had always thought of Regulus, and I comment that I was particularly displeased when he was thrown like trash, after a purpose. Like he had done nothing, and I personally think he sacrificed more than Snape. Sure both had given their lives, but try to understand my point.
I thought there must be a chapter dedicated to him, so here it is. I don't think I would write about the Quidditch cup because he is not with Weasley, I would have a haphne moment instead of it.
Enough of my rant, hope you enjoyed the chapter.
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