Regulus could hardly believe it. The last thing he remembered was surrendering to the dark waters as the Inferi pulled him down beneath the cold embrace of the lake. He expected pain. He expected death. What he didn't expect before succumbing to the waters was the low resonant hum that seemed to rise from the bones of the earth itself. Threaded with sharp crackles like lightning trapped in a crystal. It was vibrating through his very own soul and then light engulfed him. He thought he had entered the afterlife.
What he didn't expect was to awaken in the heart of a vast chamber, lying beside a towering arch. A man with dark hair, pallid skin, and piercing silver eyes stood over him, his expression caught between confusion and disbelief. Regulus had no chance to speak, for the arch suddenly blazed with blinding light—and from its depths poured a horde of Inferi, spilling into the room like a nightmare made flesh.
The two men barely managed to escape, slamming the chamber shut before the Inferi could spill into the halls beyond. Breathless and shaken, Regulus turned to his unlikely savior. Only then did he learn the man's name—Ignatius Peverell, heir to a legacy thought long vanished.
Even more staggering was the realization that twelve years had passed since the night in the cave. Whatever that mysterious light had been, it seemed to have carried Regulus forward through time itself. And now, in this unfamiliar future, he discovered a world where the Dark Lord no longer reigned unchecked, his shadow lifted from the wizarding world.
This did not mean Regulus would be compliant. He carried knowledge the Dark Lord thought he was able to keep secret. Horcruxes! Even now, he could scarcely believe the truth. Once among the youngest to swear himself to the Death Eaters, Regulus had come to see the monstrous path Voldemort carved: a world built on cruelty, manipulation, and utter disregard for life.
Blood purity meant nothing to him; pure bloods were simply the easiest pawns to bend to his will. And the Slytherins who followed him? Blinded by pride and the lure of power, they abandoned even the instinct for self-preservation. Too many families, too many ancient bloodlines, had been extinguished—sacrificed to feed one man's insatiable ego. He realized too late when he discovered that the locket hidden in the cave contain the dark lord's soul. So even he is gone today, he will rise again.
Regulus knew the locket remained in Kreacher's possession. All he needed now was a way to reach both the elf and the Horcrux. Yet his magic faltered, weaker than he remembered, as though something vital had been drained from him. Ignatius watched with quiet suspicion, suggesting that the strain might be the consequence of Regulus's passage through time. Time magic—ancient, elusive, and perilous—was a force few dared to wield. Even so, neither man could yet fathom why it had chosen Regulus, or what price it demanded for his survival.
"There is a possibility that beneath that lake lies one of the ancient arches," Ignatius said gravely. "I know little of them, save that they are bound to the oldest forms of magic. The art of Ancient Magic has long been lost, and my only familiarity comes from what I have seen in Gringotts. Vault Sixteen houses such an arch, and in the diaries of one of my ancestors I found mention of its existence. Yet, as with so many ancient texts, the knowledge is fragmentary; only that the arches respond to magic, and their purpose remains shrouded in mystery. It is possible you triggered one without meaning to... and that is what carried you here." (A/N: This is in reference to Hogwarts Legacy. It's odd that my story seems to fit well with the lore and it was unexpected. So, I decided to integrate it.)
"But why were you in a cave full of Inferi in the first place?" Ignatius pressed, his silver eyes narrowing with suspicion.
Regulus hesitated, the weight of truth heavy on his tongue. At last, he chose to trust him. "My name is Regulus Arcturus Black," he said quietly. "I was once a Death Eater... until I learned the Dark Lord's secret. Horcruxes. I went into that cave to destroy one, but I failed. The Inferi dragged me under, and I should have died there. Yet somehow, I stand before you now."
"A Horcrux? Are you certain?" Ignatius asked. His voice low and wary.
"You know of them?"
Ignatius inclined his head, silver eyes gleaming. "I do. In fact, I have been searching for fragments of knowledge about them for years."
And in that moment, the walls of suspicion began to crumble.
*****
"So, that's how you two met?" Augustus asked, curiosity flickering in his tone. The two men exchanged a glance and merely shrugged, sipping their tea in quiet agreement. Around them, the newly furnished sitting room carried the scent of fresh wood and polish, a fragile comfort against the echo of centuries. Beyond its walls, the Peverell castle still groaned under the weight of decline, its stones slowly awakening from long abandonment.
"And now this Horcrux? It really is a piece of someone's soul?" Augustus asked.
"In my family records, it is described as a spell born of unspeakable evil," Regulus continued. "To sever the soul requires a murder—an act so heinous it scars the very fabric of magic. It grants a twisted form of immortality, but the consequences are monstrous."
"This is about Harry, isn't it?" Augustus pressed, turning to his cousin. Ignatius gave a solemn nod.
"Harry?" Regulus repeated, confusion flickering across his face.
"I told you of the Potters, did I not?" Ignatius asked.
Regulus inclined his head. It still astonished him that a single child had brought down the Dark Lord. More astonishing still was that the child was James Potter's son. Regulus's lip curled at the thought—he had never forgiven James for stealing Sirius away, for becoming the brother's confidant he himself could never be.
Ignatius's voice cut through his bitterness. "You should know, then, that Harry Potter—the brother of the Boy Who Lived, carries a Horcrux within his soul."
"What?" Regulus gaped, his breath catching in disbelief. A human Horcrux? Such a thing was unthinkable. Horcruxes had always been bound to objects—artifacts steeped in magic, vessels chosen for their significance to the caster. Without that connection, the fragment of soul would wither, leaving the Horcrux useless. That was why the Dark Lord had chosen his locket, a relic of Salazar Slytherin himself. But to seal a soul within a living being? That was uncharted, dangerous territory. What influence could such a fragment exert upon flesh and blood? Especially one as powerful and dangerous as the Dark Lord?
"So far, the soul has shown no influence over the boy," Ignatius said carefully. "But that will not last. Horcruxes, once stirred, can awaken darkness in those around them."
"And it isn't just any soul," Augustus added grimly.
Ignatius's silver eyes hardened. "The soul inside Harry is another piece of Voldemort himself."
Regulus's hand trembled, his teacup slipping from his grasp and shattering against the floor. The sound rang through the chamber like a verdict.
"Two Horcruxes!?" Regulus gaped, his voice echoing in disbelief. Two fragments alone were a feat so legendary—and so vile—that few could even imagine it. But a third? No wonder the Dark Lord had descended into madness. Each split stripped away what remained of humanity, leaving only shadow and hunger behind.
"Is it even possible to divide the soul so many times?" Augustus asked, his brow furrowed in unease.
Regulus shook his head sharply. "I cannot believe there are more. Two is already beyond comprehension. More than that? Merlin help us all."
"The issue is not merely the Horcruxes themselves," Ignatius said, his tone heavy with concern. "It is how to destroy them. There is no clear record, no reliable method preserved in any text I've uncovered. And even if there were, how could we sever such a fragment without harming the host? The simplest, most brutal solution would be to kill the boy outright—and that, I will never allow."
"I admit my naivety overcame me when I tried to destroy the Horcrux in the cave," Regulus confessed, his voice low with regret. "I had not realized that no amount of ordinary effort could undo something so dark, so unnatural. In the end, I failed. For now, the locket rests in my house-elf's care. Kreacher is loyal to me—no one else knows it is with him."
Ignatius leaned forward, his silver eyes narrowing. "Then it must remain hidden. The last thing we need is someone attempting to wield it. Until we uncover a way to destroy a Horcrux, the safest course is to keep them contained. As for Harry, I trust he will be safe at Hogwarts—so long as Dumbledore does not act recklessly." He paused, his tone sharpening. "In the meantime, we must focus on discovery. That locket can serve as our test, a control group of sorts. We will experiment carefully, cautiously, until we learn what can truly unmake a Horcrux."
"For now, we must find a place strong enough to conduct our experiments safely," Ignatius sighed. "The ancient chamber beneath the castle would have sufficed."
Augustus's eyes widened. "Wait—you mean the chamber currently crawling with Inferi?"
Ignatius exhaled heavily. "Yes. I casted Revelio. The arch is dormant now, which halted the horde from spreading further. But imagine thousands of Inferi once packed into that chamber. Even now, nearly a hundred remain. If the wards fail, they could spill into the castle."
"And this fortress is old," Augustus countered sharply. "It's wards are crumbling. Are you certain they cannot escape?"
Ignatius shook his head. "No. Which means we'll have to go down there and deal with them ourselves."
"Not with just the three of us," Augustus warned. "The goblins could help but their strength lies in steel and enchantments. Inferi shrug off physical attacks, even from goblin enchanted weapons."
"What we need is fire," Regulus said grimly. "An inferno strong enough to consume them all."
Augustus leaned back, his expression hardening. "Then we cannot do this alone. We'll need the cavalry."
"The cavalry?" Regulus looked confused.
Ignatius's gaze snapped to him, sharp and unyielding. "The cavalry? This is not knowledge we can share beyond this room. You know as well as I do how dangerous this information is. We cannot just randomly asked others for help."
"Yeah, well, we have friends who could help," Augustus reminded them.
Ignatius frowned. "Not something we can simply spring on them, Augustus. They're scattered across different countries, and time is against us."
"You have money," Augustus pressed. "Use it. Host a soiree or something, claim it's for old friends. The Ministry would be thrilled to welcome such powerful witches and wizards into the country. Besides, I think it's time we called in a few favors from the friends I've made here."
Ignatius's gaze sharpened. "Do you trust these friends of yours?"
Augustus smirked. "We'll find out." With that, he sprinted from the room toward the floo.
Regulus turned to Ignatius, brow raised. "Cavalry?" he mouthed.
Ignatius sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Not the cavalry you're imagining. No knights, no banners. Just horses... and cowboy hats. It's an American thing."