Raylynx's POV
I appeared at the blustery sea side. From here, Amy's memory would take me to where I needed to go.
It was a treacherous journey to the cave, and some parts would have been impossible without magic. The fear in my heart was amplified because I had felt Amy's memory so vividly in my own mind. I almost felt as though I were reliving her memory.
Finally, after a short swim, I pulled myself up the rocks and reached the entrance to the cave. I quickly pressed myself against the cavern wall, unaware of what defenses were set up. I drew out my wand and took a deep breath.
Then, I inched my way forward. I peeked around the wall of stone and seeing nobody, stepped forth into the archway that led into a sort-of inner chamber in the wall.
Stepping forth, I held my breath for a moment as the hum of magic interrupted my senses. I paused and ran my hand over the wall. There were magical defenses here, that was for certain.
What kind, though? That was another question altogether.
I sighed in frustration. The magic was difficult to read, it was so faint and yet it ran so deep.
There were spells I could use to test the magic. I rolled up my sleeve and began to tap my wand against the stone when I heard a faint voice somewhere behind me and distorted by the wind- "Kreacher, is this the right place?"
I froze as footsteps rushed up to the entryway. There was nowhere to hide. I hurriedly stood next to the entrance, ready to ambush.
Who could it be but the Dark Lord himself? Dumbledore can't know about this place. What do I do? There's nowhere to hide. There's-
A foot passed into the archway. I launched myself forward and started to say, "Stupe-!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
A bolt of green light flashed mere millimeters from my face, shooting just over my right shoulder.
My face froze in shock as my eyes met the eyes of my attacker.
His face turned ashen and his wand hand shook badly.
"R-Raylynx," he said in voice of utmost relief and shock.
I managed to breathe out a reply. "Regulus. I can't believe it's you."
"Neither can I. What are you doing here?" he asked.
I started to respond, but he suddenly cut me off, "No, it's not safe here. We have to find another place."
He hesitated and looked up. "We might not be able to Apparate out of here."
"Kreacher!" he called, and a house elf appeared.
"Yes, Master Regulus?" Kreacher croaked obediently, even as he eyed me suspiciously.
"Take us both to Grimmauld Place," Regulus ordered.
"Grimmauld Place?" I asked, frowning. I knew it was the House of Blacks.
"There won't be anyone there," Regulus said.
Kreacher held out his small, wrinkly hands to us. Regulus put his hand over Kreacher's.
I looked over at Regulus. Some of the color had returned to his face. He nodded at me. "Trust me," he said.
I took a deep breath, and reached out to hold Kreacher's hand. With a sharp crack!, we vanished.
It was raining in London. We quickly entered Grimmauld Place, which I could only see after Regulus showed me a letter he had received from Sirius as a Secret-Keeper. He opened the door and I entered. Lowering my hood, I stared up at the hallway of stuffed elf heads in a strange mixture of curiosity and disgust.
"Bit of a creepy family tradition," Regulus said, following my gaze and taking off his cloak.
"I'd say."
"Kreacher, will you make us some soup?" Regulus asked. Kreacher nodded and bowed before heading to what was presumably the kitchen.
"Come on, this way." Regulus beckoned and led me to a drawing room.
I sat down on the couch and looked around. "So Sirius owns this house now," I said, my eyes tracing the tapestry on the wall. It looked as though Sirius' name had been burned off by a wand.
"Yes. He told you about our parents' passing?" Regulus asked, drawing up another chair to sit across from me.
"He did." I thought back to that night we had both gotten drunk while on duty. I shook my head slightly to clear my thoughts.
"He let me stay here, you know," Regulus said. "I guess blood does count for something."
"It's more than blood. He loves you," I replied.
"How is the idiot now?" Regulus asked, smiling wryly. "Are you two finally together?"
"No," I answered. "We're not."
Regulus nodded and we lapsed into silence for a little.
"Regulus," I said, "I left the Order."
Regulus looked up at me, surprise etching across his features.
"I'm no longer tied to Dumbledore," I said.
"Why?" Regulus looked at me with a confused expression.
"I decided to move on my own," I replied. "Nobody knows where I am."
Regulus paused and then asked carefully, "And the cave. How did you end up there? Not by accident, I suppose?"
"Master Regulus, Kreacher says the soup is ready!"
A second house elf, that one clearly much older and obviously a female, chirped loudly at the doorway.
"Another house elf?" I asked. Is it normal for older pure-blood families to have more than one house elf?
"Thank you, Hokey," Regulus said, and he stood up. I followed suit and he led us down to the kitchen.
Kreacher had laid out two steaming dishes of soup and warm bread on the table.
"Thanks, Kreacher," Regulus said. Then, he knelt down to Kreacher's height and said, "You remember what I said before? You are to keep out of sight. You cannot be seen."
Kreacher nodded. "Yes, Master."
"Stay within the house," Regulus warned.
Kreacher nodded again before bowing and Disapparating.
We sat at the table. Regulus looked at me and I looked back at him at a raised eyebrow.
"What was that about?" I asked Regulus. "Is your house elf in danger?"
Regulus nodded slowly. "The gravest of dangers."
I kept my eyes on Regulus as I swirled my soup with a spoon.
Catching my questioning eyes, Regulus explained, "The Dark Lord.. .He approached me and asked if he could use Kreacher-"
"The Dark Lord asked for a house elf?" I wondered aloud.
Regulus nodded.
"But what services could a house elf provide for him?" I asked, confused.
"I wondered that myself. Kreacher told me everything. The Dark Lord took Kreacher to the cave and brought him in. There, he tested certain defenses on Kreacher and left him to die. But Kreacher escaped. He was able to Apparate out of the cave, something the Dark Lord failed to consider. Naturally, Kreacher cannot be seen again or we will both be murdered on the spot."
I took this information in very attentively.
Finally, I said, "Defenses for what?"
Regulus hesitated before he said, "I'm not certain that I'm right about that, but I would guess it has something to do with the Dark Lord's desire for…. immortality." He said the last word in a weighted way.
"What makes you think that?" I pressed.
"The Dark Lord is always making claims about how he has achieved new heights in magic- not only in death, but also in life," Regulus explained.
Regulus' eyes flickered up to mine. "Can you guess what might be in that cave?"
I swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes. A Horcrux."
"That's what I'm thinking too," Regulus said somberly. Then, his eyebrows drew together. "But how could you know what a Horcrux is? And how did you trace your way to the cave? Clearly, not on Dumbledore's orders."
"It took a long time to piece the information together," I explained. "Years, actually."
"I had an unusual encounter with a professor at Hogwarts," I answered. "Do you remember Professor Slughorn? You used to go to his Slug Club parties."
"I remember."
"I went to one as well, my seventh year. And…" I hesitated, and thought hard back to the event. I remembered Slughorn abruptly shouting at me, "You will not tell-!? You did not see…?"
"And?" Regulus prompted me.
"I performed Legilimency on him, by accident. It was turning into a habit of mine because I was practicing it every day. Obviously, Slughorn didn't expect it from a student. His guards were down. And I saw…"
Regulus waited patiently.
"I saw this memory of Slughorn as a young teacher. He was talking to a student of his. 'Tom' he called him."
Regulus stiffened.
"Tom approached Slughorn and asked him about 'a rather rare piece of Dark Magic'. It was called a Horcrux. At that point, Slughorn began to block me out of his mind, but I saw Professor Slughorn explain to him what that meant. It had to do with splitting the soul, you see. Through murder."
The words hung chillingly in the air.
I blinked and looked down at the table. "I did endless research on it in the days following. And I found out what exactly a Horcrux is. A piece of soul you preserve in an object: a way to be immortal forever."
"We have to stop him," Regulus said determinedly. "We can't let him win."
I took a deep breath, nodding slowly, and then looked up at him again. "You're right. We'll just have to beat him."
Both of us were somber as we finished our meal.
I took a shower before sitting in the bed in the room that Regulus had prepared for me.
I heard a knock on my door.
"Can I come in?"
"Of course."
Regulus entered my room.
"Are you comfortable here?" he asked me.
I nodded. "Very, thank you."
He nodded and began to turn away when suddenly he stopped, frowning. I watched him.
"You trusted me," he said quietly. "When I asked you to take Kreacher's hand, I didn't think you would."
"I have faith in you, Regulus," I said. "I always have."
"Yes, but..." Regulus turned to me, and his voice dropped to a quiet and pained whisper. "How can you trust me like this? How could you think to stay in the same place as me? I could be plotting to kill you. All the things that I've done… You don't even know what I've done."
"Our encounter at the cave showed me how talented you are at offensive magic. If you wanted me dead, I'd be dead," I explained. "And as for what you've done…" My voice was heavy as I admitted, "Back when we were in Hogwarts, I thought allying with Dumbledore would mean that I would never dirty my hands, that I could follow my instincts of what was it didn't turn out that way. I have had loved ones die on my watch. So, whatever you've done, we're even, Regulus, and only I'm the hypocrite."
The old Regulus would have soothed me, comforted me. But we were both too far in to go back and we knew it. For our justifications to have any meaning, we would have to defeat Voldemort first.
"Good night," he murmured, and left the room.
I laid down in bed and closed my eyes.
I opened my eyes the next morning to see an elegant bed curtain sprawled out above me. The events of yesterday came flooding back to me. But it was still difficult to believe that I had been reunited with Regulus. After washing up, I slipped a robe on over my dressing gown and headed to the kitchen.
Regulus was already up, poring over a newspaper. When I joined him, he greeted me. "Were you able to sleep well?"
"That was the best sleep I've had in ages," I said honestly.
"Good."
"Have you had breakfast?" I asked.
Regulus shook his head. He began to call for Hokey, but I stopped him.
"I don't mind doing some cooking. I haven't in a while," I said and began to rummage around for ingredients.
Regulus stared at me.
"What?" I asked, heating up the stove.
He shook his head. "I haven't seen a person do cooking for a long time. Not since Sirius lived here."
"Sirius would cook?" I asked.
"Yeah, just basic things. But he had to, you see, because Kreacher hated him, so he would spit in his bacon and all."
I laughed. I finished cooking shortly and we both sat down to breakfast.
"What are you reading?" I asked.
"Here," he turned the newspaper over to me.
I took a glance at it and then said in surprise, "It's not today's newspaper."
"No, it's not. It's from a couple years ago. We would have gotten it back in Hogwarts."
I studied the front page carefully, but then shook my head. "Why is this important?"
Regulus pointed to a small section at the very bottom of the page: ACCIDENTAL MURDER BY HOUSE ELF.
I started to read it aloud, "A house elf in the-"
Regulus shook his head and said to me, "Don't read it aloud."
Confused, I looked back down at the article and read it silently to myself.
A house elf in the household of long-time collector Hepzibah Smith was accused and convicted of putting a lethal poison in her mistress' evening cocoa. The house elf, Hokey, is very old and despite her conviction, the Ministry ruled that the murder was due to Hokey's confusion and old age, and decided to let her go. Hokey is now no longer able to serve as the only house elf in a house.
"Hokey? Isn't she your second house elf?" I whispered to Regulus.
He nodded.
"Why?" I asked. "What does this have to do with anything?"
"Because," Regulus replied, "you spoke about Horcruxes yesterday as objects that hold the soul. That got me thinking about what sort of objects the Dark Lord might choose for his Horcrux. After all, wouldn't he be selective? They are the keys to his immortality, after all."
I thought back to Amy Benson's memory: Tom Riddle had liked to take things from people and considered them his treasures.
"Hepzibah Smith was a long-time collector," Regulus pointed out. "And I've heard from my family that she's a descendant in some way to Helga Hufflepuff. She must have had lots of treasures of value. Voldemort would want to get his hands on things that valuable."
Value? No, those things Voldemort took from the kids weren't valuable.
"Not valuable merely in wealth," I said slowly, thinking it through. "More like things of historical importance or indicators of his dominant power. The key is his attachment to power. Voldemort likes to take things from people, things that aren't his and make them his."
"That's a very acute observation," Regulus said. "You're quite adept at reading people."
"I'm a wand-maker's assistant, remember?"
Then, I asked Regulus the harrowing question. "Do you think he killed her? He had to have killed someone to make the Horcrux. You split the soul by murder, remember?"
Regulus nodded. "After Hokey was excused due to her old age, I took her in, suspicious of Hepzibah's murder. I've spoken to Hokey about this several times and she's very confused about it all. She bursts into tears every time, but that's only natural. But there's something else that's off. It's like someone put a False Memory Charm on her."
"But how could Voldemort have encountered Hepzibah Smith in the first place?" I wondered, and then something in my mind clicked.
"What is it?" Regulus asked, seeing my eyes light up.
"I'll be back tonight," I promised. "There's something I have to check."
Regulus nodded and stood up. "I have duties tonight. I may be back later than you."
I looked at Regulus, anxious about what his duties consisted of. He smiled sadly. "Don't pity me, Raylynx. This was my choice, remember."
"I don't pity you," I replied. "We're in this together now."
Winter had come quickly. The snow had come as early as November this year. I pulled my cloak more tightly around myself, lowered my hood, and pulled up my scarf as I walked down Knockturn Alley. The mutterings of people talking to walls filtered past me as I made my way down the street. Not wanting to draw undue attention, I kept mostly to the dark alleyways.
From the darkness, a hand reached out to grab me. I slapped it immediately and whispered, "If you touch me, I will not hold back." The hand slowly slithered back.
Finally, I made my way to the main shops. I scanned the street before I quickly crossed it and opened the door of a shop. The bell tinkled as I slid into the store. The musty air of the store was the same as ever. My eyes fell on a cursed necklace on display. The display card read that it would kill you immediately at the barest touch.
"How may I help you?" an oily voice drawled.
My head snapped towards the owner of the voice.
"Mr. Borgin," I greeted him.
"And who may you be?" Borgin asked, his brow furrowing.
I pulled down my scarf.
Borgin's eyes widened. "I remember you. You were that girl with Ollivander. But you disappeared. Nobody knew where you went."
"Well now you know," I said simply.
"Why have you come to my shop?" Borgin asked curiously.
Good, I have his attention.
"I wanted to ask you about someone who frequented this shop quite often in the past," I said vaguely.
Borgin raised an eyebrow.
"Tom Riddle."
Borgin's eyes flickered uncomfortably and he sniffed.
"What do you want to know about him?" Borgin said brusquely, turning away from me. "He's long gone."
"You said you sent him on errands to persuade owners to part with their treasures. He was good at that, wasn't he?"
"Well, yes, I suppose he was rather persuasive. Good-looking boy, smooth talker. Always got the best deals on our behalf."
"So you sent him to negotiate with Hepzibah Smith," I said. "She was quite the collector, I hear."
"Yes," Borgin muttered, eyeing me suspiciously. No doubt they kept the strictest security on their transactions at a shop like this. "We sent him to negotiate the sale of goblin-made armor from Hepzibah. She was a frequent customer of ours."
Goblin-made armor? If Hepzibah was a collector, she didn't just have goblin-made armor. She must have had tons of treasure she would never shown Borgin or Burke, for fear they take them from her or pester her for them.
"And if I remember correctly, you said that was the first time Tom Riddle failed to acquire the item he was meant to procure."
Borgin nodded. "That's right, and he resigned shortly afterwards."
He resigned shortly afterwards.
I hesitated and then I said, "Have you considered, Mr. Borgin, the number of murders in your vicinity after the resignation of Tom Riddle?"
Borgin shrugged. "Don't see what the murders have to do with ol' Tom. He was a good, quiet lad. You never met him, did you?"
"I'm afraid not. A missed opportunity," I answered quietly. "He was supremely talented, wasn't he? Tom Riddle."
Borgin nodded. "The best employee yet."
Probably the only ever, I thought, but didn't say it.
I cats my eyes down and spoke quietly, "Persuasion can only go so far before desire sparks unwarranted murder."
Borgin stared at me with haunted eyes before he licked his lips slowly. "What are you getting at, lass?"
"Hepzibah Smith was murdered shortly after Tom Riddle visited her-"
"That was that damned house elf, Pokey, or whatever her name was-"
"And then there was Mr. Burke-"
"Don't!" Borgin's face contracted in pain. "He wasn't murdered. There's no evidence of that. None at all. It was an accident."
He looked over at the necklace in the display.
He's fighting against his own hope.
He harrumphed moodily. "What would you know?" he said bitterly.
"It was Tom Riddle."
Borgon started scrambling for words. "No, no, you're wrong, absolutely wrong. What a damn idea to have! Tom Riddle worked for us."
"He was overqualified," I said. "From the very beginning."
"I-well- we just got lucky," Borgin stuttered. "He wanted a break, that's all."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "No, you're wrong. He came here because of the kind of trade you do, and he is the one who got lucky."
"What do you mean?" Borgin asked, fear flitting across his face.
"Ms. Smith and Mr. Burke were both avid collectors, going to great lengths to acquire unique treasures. Tom Riddle formed these relationships because it was convenient for him. They brought objects of great historical worth, objects that bestow power by mere relation, directly to him. Of course, when the relationship flipped-"
"Flipped?"
"Well, Mr. Burke went after a ring-"
"The Ring bearing the Peverell Coat of Arms," Borgin said.
"Yes," I nodded. "Mr. Burke located this ring successfully. Tom Riddle had it."
"Maybe," Borgin said quickly. "We thought it belonged to someone named Marvolo Gaunt-"
"But it turned out to be Tom Riddle."
Borgin fell silent.
Instead, I said, "And the next time you found Mr. Burke, it was too late."
"But it took them six weeks to find him," Borgin said hoarsely. "Anything could happen in six weeks."
"Yes," I said, thinking of the Horcruxes that must have been created in that time. "Anything could happen."
"In those six weeks, you learnt that Tom Riddle had left Little Hangleton, possibly to a foreign place-"
"Albania," Borgin supplied. "It was Albania."
My eyes widened, but I quickly controlled myself. "I see."
I stood up. Borgin cringed, as though afraid of me.
"Do you want to remember this?" I asked him. "Do you want to know what Tom Riddle did? Or would you prefer to forget?"
Borgin stared at me for a long time before he said hoarsely, "Forget. I want to forget."
I nodded and drew out my wand.
"Turn around, Mr. Borgin," I instructed.
"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Borgin croaked. But seeing as he had no choice, he turned, revealing his balding head to me. He was shaking from head to foot.
I aimed my wand straight at his head.
"Obliviate."
Before he turned back around, I was out of the shop and had Disapparated in a flurry of robes.
Regulus wasn't back yet.
Hokey kindly made me tea.
As she handed it to me, I thought of Hepzibah Smith.
"Hokey, what kind of treasures did your previous mistress have?" I asked.
"Oh, lots, miss," Hokey said, though her eyes were filling with tears at the thought of her previous mistress.
"But she must have treasured a few above all others, no?" I asked
Hokey shrugged, but then she said, "Mistress really loved her locket and her cup."
"Her locket and her cup?" I repeated, sipping on my tea.
"The cup was a family heirloom," Hokey said distantly.
Family heirloom?
"I've heard from my family that she's a descendant in some way to Helga Hufflepuff."
My breath caught.
It can't be…
"Hufflepuff's cup," I breathed out.
Then, I recalled Flitwick's words about the four treasures of the Hogwarts founders: Gryffindor's sword, Ravenclaw's diadem, Hufflepuff's Cup, and Slytherin's locket.
My mouth dropped open. Could it be? Could it be that Lord Voldemort gained Slytherin's locket? If he had, there's no doubt he'd make that a Horcrux.
I spent the next few hours pondering whether it was possible that Voldemort had acquired the Cup and the Locket. The Black family also had an extensive library and I pulled every book off the shelf that had to do with the Relics of the Hogwarts Founders and stacked them by the fireplace. I started to read, but as the night deepened, I fell asleep, still waiting for Regulus.
He woke me up, shaking my shoulder gently.
When I sat up, I felt his hand on my shoulder trembling.
"Reg? What is it?" I asked tiredly.
"We can't stay still any longer. We've got to make a move." Something in his voice sparked fear in my heart.
I sat up. "What's wrong? What's happened?"
"I… I killed an innocent Muggle. He was just a boy."
For some reason, my mind flashed to the little boy Sirius had caught at the park. Of course, it was ridiculous to think that it would be that boy, but my mind went there anyways.
"I didn't even think about it," Regulus said, swallowing hard. "It was just a reaction. It seemed as natural as breathing."
He gripped his head in his hands. "I can't keep doing this. I'm turning into one of them. No, not just turning, it's too late now. It's already too late. I have to do something- something to pull me into the right direction." He started to breathe in quick, shallow breaths. "I murdered a child. An innocent child. It was just a little boy."
In a gentle voice, I whispered, "Shhh. Calm down, Regulus. It's all right. Take the time to find yourself again."
Regulus tried to take deep breaths. Finally, he turned to me and smiled ironically, "And I asked you not to pity me."
"We're going to make our move," I reassured him. "I think I've figured out what the Horcrux is."
Regulus nodded and straightened up. "That's good news," he said. "We can't miss this opportunity."
I smiled softly. "This is you, Regulus. This is the real you, and no matter how far away you might stray, this part of you will always be your true north."
Regulus tried to smile, but his eyes were still full of pain. I had the awful feeling that he didn't want to live his life anymore. But as I said, we were equals. That meant that neither of us could really save the other anymore.
