"Stop… stop…"
The voice echoed in Sean's mind. He frowned slightly, and it vanished.
"I have seen your heart. It is mine…
I have seen your dreams, I have seen your desires, and of course… hehe, I have seen your fear…"
The voice returned.
It lingered at Sean's ear, whispering one temptation after another.
"Fear?"
Sean paused for a second, slightly puzzled.
"You fear me. You fear your own helplessness. Admit it—you fear the future you once foresaw…"
The voice kept murmuring, but Sean merely focused for a moment, and everything disappeared again.
As always, he gazed calmly ahead, his eyes reflecting a deep, steady light.
Fear tomorrow?
Sean thought that of all things, tomorrow was what he feared least.
"Why…"
There seemed to be confusion in that voice, but soon it drifted toward Sirius and the others instead.
"You got your brother killed and robbed the couple who treated you like a son of everything they had."
It said that to Sirius.
"You got your master killed, you stupid creature. In the end, you never fulfilled his dying wish."
It circled around Kreacher's ears.
Sirius's breathing turned ragged. Kreacher looked ready to smash his head into the wall.
"You are unworthy of your station, Pukwudgie. You could never become his proper assistant."
The voice whispered gleefully into Will's ear.
"Mr. Green said that?"
The Pukwudgie butler looked blank.
"You stupid thing, lowly goblin-kin—how could you possibly compare to a wizard? You're only useful, that's all…"
The voice giggled.
"Mr. Green said that?"
The Pukwudgie butler still looked confused.
"What else? That's probably what he's always thought…"
The voice sneered.
"I don't believe you. Mr. Green never said that. Besides…"
Will lifted his chin stubbornly.
"You're the stupid one, wizard. Mr. Green said I'm the smartest butler."
The voice froze, as though shocked that a thinking creature without a proper head could exist in this world.
It had failed twice here tonight. First, it could not make sense of the young wizard's heart. Second, it had run into something with no head at all.
At that very moment, a flash of sword-light cut through the curtains. The sword struck out in an instant. A metallic clang rang out, followed by a long, piercing scream.
Sean had shattered both panes of glass in the little windows. Riddle's eyes were gone now, and wisps of smoke curled out from the locket's colored silk lining.
Whatever had lived inside the Horcrux disappeared. Tormenting the others had been its final act.
"Hah—"
Sirius was drenched in sweat by then. He let out a hard breath and turned to look at Kreacher, who had charged toward the wall only to stop short.
"You did it."
Sirius turned back and saw the broken pieces of the Horcrux, along with the black smoke rising from them.
A fierce rush of relief and exhilaration welled up from deep inside him—
A part of Voldemort had been destroyed! They had won the first small piece of the war!
If they kept fighting like this…
Sirius's eyes shone. A beautiful thing called hope took root in his heart.
"Master Regulus—"
The house-elf let out a terrible cry. He stared at the ruined locket, tears soaking into his ragged clothes.
"Why are you so upset?"
Sirius asked, confused.
Of course Sirius was confused. Sean understood. Like many wizards, Sirius had never truly been willing to see Kreacher as a being with emotions just as sensitive as a wizard's.
"Mr. Kreacher."
Sean crouched slightly and offered him a tissue. He knew Kreacher had been struck by too much joy at once, and that joy had become warm rain on his cheeks.
"This belongs with you. Since Master Regulus's last wish has been passed down to you, then his remains should belong to you as well."
Sean placed the broken pieces of the locket into Kreacher's hands.
After that, it took them nearly half an hour to calm him down. He, Kreacher, had actually been given a true relic of the Black family—more than that, a relic earned by Master Regulus himself.
The elf was so overwhelmed his knees went weak. He could barely stand.
When he finally managed to shuffle forward a few steps, they walked with him to the cupboard and watched him carefully tuck away the old fake locket in a dirty blanket. He promised Sean that after he left, he would guard it properly.
The elf bowed low to Sean. He even gave a strange little twitch toward the Pukwudgie butler too, as if trying to offer a salute.
"Master Regulus, did you see… none of it was in vain. Kreacher saw it. Someone came. Not a man—perhaps an angel,"
Kreacher said, his lips trembling.
"But it isn't over yet. Kreacher still has to fight… fight! Fight for my master, for the defender of house-elves, in brave Regulus's name, against the Dark Lord! Fight!"
One last time, Kreacher glanced covertly at the young wizard standing in the moonlight, still clutching the white tissue Sean had given him.
More than once, Kreacher had thought that perhaps he was not the only one who had inherited Master Regulus's will…
Surely heaven itself had been moved by Master Regulus, or such a wizard would never have appeared.
Kreacher saw it clearly now: his master was no longer the Regulus of the past, nor the fugitive Sirius of the present, but Green. Yes—he would forever support the great Green, and fight for the faith and courage that Green and Master Regulus shared alike.
…
"You're leaving already?"
Sirius asked in a lowered voice.
They were in Sirius's room now.
It was a large room, one that must once have been quite beautiful.
There was a great bed with carved posts, tall windows draped in long velvet curtains, and a chandelier thick with dust. The candle stubs were still sitting in their sockets, with frozen wax hanging down like icicles.
The paintings on the walls and even the headboard were coated in a thin layer of dust, and a spiderweb stretched from the chandelier to the top of a wooden wardrobe.
"Yes, Mr. Sirius. Please don't forget what I just told you."
Sean took his leave politely.
"I'll never forget it."
Sirius answered seriously.
A moment earlier, Sean had asked him to look for a witch he had once known by the name of Nagini.
"Then I'll leave it to you."
Sean nodded, then vanished into the night with Will.
The stars were especially bright tonight, while Hogwarts Castle remained as quiet as ever.
Only the mist, at some unknown moment, crept up to veil the moon and blur the world. But mist was common enough in the Scottish Highlands.
In the dark dungeon, on a bed neither too large nor too small, lay a wizard whose face looked none too well.
He had sunk into a hazy dream once more.
The disheartened always love to dream.
~~~
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