Douglas kept a watchful eye on the window, noticing Albus Dumbledore and Lupin peering up from the square outside.
He turned to Sirius. "Sirius, could you go let Dumbledore and the others in? They'll need you to get through the wards."
Once Sirius had left, Douglas released the spell binding Kreacher and spoke quietly, "Dumbledore is here. Now, I need you to take us to that place—to bring back Regulus's remains. Think it over."
Kreacher, still lost in his self-punishment just moments before, fell silent at once. His voice trembled with hope. "Truly? To bring Master Regulus home? Yes, yes, we must bring him back. But… Master Regulus told Kreacher never to leave this room…"
Douglas gave a cold little laugh—now, of all times, the elf remembered Regulus's orders. Still, he softened his tone. "Sirius is your master now. That's not your worry anymore. My only request is this: don't take us directly onto the island."
"After all, no one knows what dark magic Voldemort may have left behind. If we suddenly appear right in the middle of it and the place self-destructs, we'll never recover Regulus's body. Just take us to the true entrance of the cave—the place where the magical protections begin. That's enough."
Kreacher nodded through his tears, then attempted an awkward gesture toward Douglas—a bow that his body, bound by generations of Black family pride, seemed to resist on instinct.
When Dumbledore entered, he gave Douglas a long, appraising look, then circled him twice with a twinkle in his eye. "Magical reinforcement, I see. Bubble-Head Charm, I understand. But the Shield Charm—did you turn your clothes into magical artifacts?"
Douglas dispelled the magic with a flick, grinning. "Trade secret, I'm afraid. No comment."
He produced Slytherin's locket once again. The moment Dumbledore saw it, his expression grew taut. Drawing his wand, he carefully took the locket, tapping it several times with practiced caution. After a moment, he glanced at the magic-suppressing stone box in Douglas's hand, let out a resigned little chuckle, and stepped away to give the locket a thorough examination.
At last, Dumbledore returned, visibly more relaxed. He smiled. "It seems fate has bound us to Slytherin in every possible way. Without that particular item, we might have needed young Harry to open it for us."
Douglas cocked his head, smiling slyly. "So, who gets to handle this one?"
Dumbledore tossed the locket back to Douglas. "I'm getting on in years. This sort of thing is best left to someone with more… recent experience."
Douglas caught it without hesitation, holding out his hand. "You're carrying the other piece, aren't you?"
Dumbledore chuckled, rummaged through his robes, and produced a finely carved wooden box. From within, he withdrew a thin sliver of mithril and handed it over.
Douglas took the metal fragment, then winked. "That's all? No more surprises?"
But Dumbledore abruptly changed the subject. "Douglas, you're even more brilliant than I imagined. While I was still piecing together Tom's early years, you've already tracked down this artifact.
Yes, I should have seen it coming. When that diary surfaced, it meant Tom had entrusted certain objects to his followers—though I doubt he ever told them what they truly were. He never trusted anyone…"
Douglas coughed lightly. "Ahem, Headmaster, you may have misunderstood. This wasn't something Voldemort left with a follower. It was discovered by Regulus—Sirius's brother, once a Death Eater. He uncovered Voldemort's greatest secret and stole this from right under his nose…"
He swiftly summarized Kreacher's tale.
As the story unfolded, understanding dawned on Lupin. No wonder the room's atmosphere had been so heavy, and Sirius's eyes so red when they'd met at the door. He pulled Sirius into a rough, heartfelt hug and clapped his shoulder.
He knew all too well how cold things had once been between the brothers—how much Sirius had despised his sibling's obsession with being a Death Eater.
But fate, it seemed, had a wicked sense of irony. No one could have guessed that, in the end, Regulus had been braver and wiser than any of them.
While others boasted of escaping Voldemort's clutches, Regulus had already discovered the Dark Lord's true vulnerability. Without him, who knew how long it would have taken for anyone to find the Horcrux hidden in that cave?
Dumbledore's voice was thick with emotion. "Regulus was a hero—a silent guardian, sacrificing everything from the shadows.
He was truly remarkable. Tom's secret eluded even the most learned among us. I only uncovered the truth about Horcruxes with Douglas's help. And Regulus—he was what, seventeen? Such a beautiful age…"
Sirius's eyes stayed red, his voice a broken murmur. "He was just a stupid fool…"
He couldn't understand why Regulus, who'd always put family honor first, would sacrifice himself—especially when there was a house-elf at his side who could have drunk the potion instead.
He could have run, could have had Kreacher take him away. But to protect this stubborn, foolish Black family, he'd chosen to die, alone and unsung.
Sirius gazed around the battered, crumbling Black family home. He couldn't fathom what was worth guarding in a house so rotten to its core…
Nearby, Kreacher trembled, his voice quivering as he addressed Dumbledore. "Great Headmaster Dumbledore, s-sir… Is it true you can destroy that thing? Are you here to take me to bring Master Regulus home?"
He shot a wary glance at Douglas as he spoke.
Douglas blinked, thinking, He still doesn't trust me, does he?
Dumbledore smiled, crouching down to meet Kreacher's eyes. "You must trust Douglas. He's more than capable."
Kreacher muttered, "But that's the Dark Lord's… thing… Kreacher… Kreacher has no choice…"
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