Chapter 314: Destroying the Slytherin Locket?
The door opened, and Sirius walked in, his face still etched with lingering anger. When he saw the golden locket in Dylan's hand, his eyes instantly reddened. This was the object that had cost his brother—who had initially strayed but ultimately awakened—his life.
"Is this... Voldemort's Horcrux?" Sirius's voice faltered. He reached out to touch it, but stopped his hand mid-air.
"Yes, it is." Dylan nodded, holding up the golden locket engraved with the Slytherin crest. He gently placed his palm on it, inputting a faint trace of magic.
Almost instantly as the magic entered, a low, evil whispering sound emanated from the locket. The sound was like countless people murmuring in the ear, filled with an indescribable chill.
Dylan slowly opened the clasp of the locket a crack. Strands of black magic immediately seeped out of the gap, twisting in the air, as if alive. As the gap widened, the evil whispering grew louder, the voice saturated with temptation, constantly stirring the darkest, most avaricious desires deep within a person's heart, seemingly intent on utterly consuming one's sanity.
Sirius swallowed hard.
Dylan tilted his head. The hand hanging by his side slightly lifted, and a ball of flame suddenly erupted in his palm. The flame was only the size of a fist when it first appeared, yet it carried an bone-chilling coldness. The flames twisted and shot upwards, instantly growing to half a foot high.
He presented the Slytherin locket clutched in his hand beneath the flame. The serpentine pattern on the locket, which had been faintly shimmering with silver light, immediately emitted a "sizzling" sound upon contact with the Fiendfyre. The gemstones in the snake's eyes were instantly coated with a layer of black ash. The metal casing of the locket visibly twisted and blackened at a speed detectable by the naked eye!
"Fiendfyre?!" Sirius next to him sharply widened his eyes, staring warily at Dylan. "You can use that?"
Dylan looked down at the flame in his palm, gently nudging the fire to better engulf the locket. "Professor Flitwick taught me the counter-curse for Fiendfyre. To learn the counter-curse, one must, of course, first learn the curse itself."
As he spoke, the locket was already charred beyond recognition by the Fiendfyre. The once exquisite serpentine bas-relief had completely melted, and the casing had shrunk into a lump of black metallic slag. Finally, with a sharp "snap," it fractured into several small pieces of slag, gradually turning to ash in the Fiendfyre, leaving not even a wisp of black smoke.
Sirius sighed in relief: "Well done. That thing is a disaster if left alone!"
Dylan smiled and nodded, slowly extinguishing the Fiendfyre in his palm. His other hand, hanging by his side, tucked the genuine Horcrux away. What he had incinerated in the Fiendfyre was merely a forgery he had created using illusion magic and ordinary metal. He was keeping the true Horcrux for other purposes.
He looked up at Sirius, his smile still gentle. The system achievements were sounding off in succession, but he didn't check them immediately. Instead, he looked at Sirius.
"Could you please write a letter to Professor Dumbledore and the others, telling them that the Horcrux has been destroyed by me?"
"Alright." Sirius nodded, taking out a parchment and quill. He meticulously documented the entire process: finding the locket, confirming Regulus's identity, and destroying the Horcrux. He then sealed the account into two envelopes, sending them off via owl to Dumbledore's and Moody's residences.
Before long, Dumbledore and Moody arrived at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Both their expressions were exceptionally complex.
Dumbledore had been Regulus's Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. He remembered the quiet but determined young man vividly. Moody, during his early Auror missions, had a brief confrontation with Regulus, who had just joined the Death Eaters. At the time, he simply considered him another fanatic brainwashed by the pure-blood ideology, never imagining this turn of events.
"Regulus was always a child with a sense of purpose," Dumbledore sighed softly, looking at Regulus's bas-relief on the Black family tree.
But no amount of praise could quell the regret in Sirius's heart. He stepped forward, clenching his hands tightly: "I want to bring him back, even if it's just to bury him in the Black family plot, so he can rest in a familiar place."
"Please, take me to that cave!"
Dumbledore did not refuse. This journey was far easier than the last. Dumbledore gave a soft call, and Fawkes the phoenix flew in from outside the window, its golden feathers scattering fine light throughout the room. The four wizards reached out and grasped Fawkes's tail feathers. With a flash of warm firelight, they instantly Apparated into the cave.
The search for Regulus proceeded remarkably smoothly. Dumbledore walked to the lake's edge, raised the Elder Wand toward the black water, and chanted the spell in a deep voice: "Petrificus TotalusSuspendo!"
The next second, an invisible magical force surged from the wand tip, delving into the lake bottom, lifting hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Inferi one by one, hanging them densely in mid-air. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, patiently sifting through the rotten and twisted bodies. Finally, near the island in the middle of the lake, he recognized Regulus.
He still looked young, under twenty, his frame slender and thin, clearly not robust in life. However, after prolonged immersion in the cold lake water, the body was swollen and pale. His once neatly combed black hair clung to his pale cheeks. The black wizard's robes he wore were tattered, the hem entangled with some lake weeds and stained with mud from the lakebed.
"Regulus..." Seeing his brother, Sirius's tears could no longer be held back, streaming down his face. He remembered the harsh words he had spoken to his brother when he broke ties with the family over conflicting ideologies: "Voldemort will kill you sooner or later." He recalled how he had never proactively contacted his brother over the years, even passively accepting that he was a fanatical Death Eater. If he had only noticed his brother's change earlier, if they had communicated more... perhaps he wouldn't have to wait until now to know the truth. Perhaps he could have seen him one last time before his final action!
"Sirius, don't grieve too much." Dumbledore gently patted his back. "Regulus was prepared when he chose this path. What he needs most now is to be freed from the Inferi's bondage and rest well."
Sirius knelt by the lake's edge, his shoulders shaking, weeping for a long, long time. It wasn't until a cold wind swept through the depths of the cave, carrying the dampness of the lake water and brushing against the back of his neck, that he shivered and gradually stopped crying.
He wiped the tears and snot from his face with his sleeve, his eyes hardening with resolve. He looked at his brother's body suspended in the air and said in a low voice, "You're right. He's too tired. It's time to end this."
As the words fell, he raised his wand toward the corpse and clearly uttered the incantation: "Incendio Maximo!"
Searing purplish-red flames instantly enveloped Regulus's Inferi body. The fire's temperature was extremely high. Upon contact with the skin, it emitted a "sizzling" sound of burning. The flames spread from the limbs to the torso, then consuming the head. First, the flesh contracted and carbonized in the high heat, then the bones gradually turned brittle and were ultimately reduced to a handful of grayish-white ash scattered on the ground.
The surface of the ashes faintly glowed with a dull black light. That was the residue of the Dark Magic that had long clung to the Inferi, stubbornly adhering to the ash particles, impossible to clear instantly.
Just then, a translucent figure suddenly materialized in mid-air. The person looked very young, less than twenty, with a thin build. He radiated a faint silvery-white soul light, his outline somewhat blurred, yet the resemblance to Sirius in his eyes and brows was clearly visible.
He first slightly nodded toward Dylan, Dumbledore, and Moody, a look of gratitude in his eyes. Then his gaze shifted to the tear-stained Sirius. His steps, though illusory, moved. The white soul slowly drifted towards Sirius, a distance of only three meters. Yet, he drifted with extreme difficulty. With every inch he moved, his soul light dimmed slightly.
Finally reaching Sirius, he slowly opened his arms, intending to embrace his brother. But the illusory arms passed directly through Sirius's body, touching no substance. Sirius watched him, his tears flowing more fiercely.
The next moment, Regulus's soul began to ignite from the toes, inch by inch, with a pure white light. The light was gentle but carried a power of purification. In that holy firelight, Regulus wore a look of relief. He opened his mouth, seeming to want to say something, but no sound emerged. The firelight gradually consumed his torso, his shoulders, and finally, his smiling face was entirely engulfed, turning into specks of light that vanished into the air.
The last spark slowly floated down onto the ashes on the ground. As if possessing life, it burrowed into the grayish-black particles. In an instant, the black light on the ashes retreated and dissipated rapidly, as if meeting its nemesis. The formerly dull ashes returned to a pure grayish-white, with no trace of Dark Magic remaining.
Sirius knelt down, carefully scooping up the ashes and placing them into a ready-made bronze box beside him. The surface of the box was engraved with the Black family crest, its edges inlaid with fine silver threads. He knew that the Inferi state was irreversible. Allowing his brother's soul to find peace and his ashes to return to purity was the best outcome possible.
"These Inferi should also be granted release." Dylan said gravely, looking at the faint black shadows beneath the lake's surface. "The longer they exist, the more suffering their souls endure. Perhaps we should help them end this torment completely."
Dumbledore and Moody both nodded.
"Incendio Maximo!" Dylan was the first to raise his wand. Orange-red flames surged forth and landed on the lake's surface.
"Dea Flammae Aperio!" Moody followed suit with his spell, golden lines of fire spreading across the lake.
"Tempestas Fulminis!" Dumbledore's spell closely followed. Purple streaks of electricity mingled with the firelight.
Instantly, fire and electric light covered the entire lake's surface. The dazzling light illuminated the pitch-black cave, making it as bright as day. The hundreds of Inferi in the lake, under the baptism of light and fire, didn't even have a chance to struggle, turning directly into steam and completely vanishing.
What a waste, though. These Inferi could actually have been used for experiments. Dylan secretly shook his head.
Having done all this, the group didn't linger. Dumbledore summoned Fawkes the phoenix. Fawkes spread its golden wings, letting out a clear cry. As its wings flapped, a ball of fire enveloped the four wizards. With a flash of firelight, the group vanished from the cave, instantly reappearing in the living room of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
"Thank you..." Sirius held the bronze box tightly, his voice hoarse but calm, his eyes full of sincere gratitude as he looked at Dylan, Dumbledore, and Moody.
Dylan noticed Dumbledore's fingers, which were stroking his beard, move slightly. His eyes carried a hint of wanting to speak but holding back. Clearly, he had something he wanted to discuss with Dylan alone.
Seeing that Sirius's emotions were relatively stable, Dylan and Dumbledore exchanged a look and simultaneously offered their farewells: "We won't trouble you any longer then."
Sirius nodded, gently caressing the surface of the bronze box, his tone soft: "Yes, you two go ahead. I'd like to... spend a little time alone with Regulus."
The Hog's Head Inn was filled with the scents of ale and bread. Dumbledore and Dylan sat opposite each other at an old wooden table by the window, two unfinished tankards of butterbeer between them. Moody sat at the other end of the table, clutching a dark brown bottle of whiskey. He tilted his head back, gulping it down glass after glass. The liquor spilled down the corner of his mouth, dripping onto his black leather jacket. A substantial amount of the amber liquid splashed onto the wooden tabletop, creating a small wet stain in the wood grain.
"Alastor Moody! Are you trying to empty my entire cellar drinking like that?" Aberforth leaned over the bar, his brow furrowed fiercely. He was wiping a pewter cup, his eyes fixed on the bottle in Moody's hand. Although Dumbledore had long since prepaid for the drinks, as the owner, he couldn't stand such blatant waste of good liquor.
Moody let out a belch, his cheeks flushed crimson, his eyes slightly glazed. He shook the bottle, slurring his protest: "I... I've fought Dark Wizards all my life. Now that one of the monster's Horcruxes is destroyed, can't I enjoy myself a little?" As he spoke, he tried to pour more into his cup, but he swayed, nearly tumbling off his chair, only managing to steady himself by grabbing the table just in time. Having learned today that the Horcrux left by Regulus had been completely dealt with, the pent-up frustration in his heart had largely dissipated, and no amount of drinking seemed enough to satisfy his enjoyment.
"Hmph, enjoy yourself?" Aberforth sneered, increasing the force with which he wiped the cup. "I heard you agreed to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts for Albus."
"Drinking yourself into a stupor like this, I doubt you'll make it through the first semester! You might not even survive a student prank or a sneak attack by a Dark Wizard before you've settled in!"
This cold mockery instantly ignited Moody's temper. He slammed his hand onto the table, making the glasses rattle. "What nonsense are you talking about, old man! What kind of dangers haven't I faced? A duel is a duel! I'll show you what a veteran Auror is made of!" Saying that, he tried to stand up to confront Aberforth, but staggered due to his drunkenness.
Dumbledore sat by, watching the two bicker with a gentle smile, his white beard trembling slightly.
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