Chapter 182: Slytherin's Locket
Albus Dumbledore removed his half-moon glasses and took out a small, exquisitely crafted mirror from his pocket.
Russell immediately recognized it—
A two-way mirror.
As Dumbledore wiped its surface, a figure gradually appeared within.
It was an extremely aged man, his face lined like weathered hills—far older even than Dumbledore.
"Albus… how unusual," the man's hoarse voice chuckled from within the mirror. "Shouldn't you be enjoying a peaceful Christmas holiday? What brings you to an old man like me?"
But seeing Dumbledore's serious expression, the man's tone quickly changed.
"…What's happened?"
"It's nothing major," Dumbledore said gently, before recounting everything in full.
"Remarkable… truly remarkable."
Nicolas Flamel sighed in amazement.
"In all my years, I've never encountered such a case."
"To become an Inferius… and still retain fragments of consciousness."
"Regulus… what an extraordinary wizard."
Dumbledore's gaze sharpened slightly.
"Can he be restored?"
At those words, Sirius and Kreacher both tensed.
Flamel considered for a moment.
"I'll need to examine the state of his soul. If it remains sufficiently intact… then even transferring it into a new body may be possible."
"But first, I need to know what caused this transformation—and I'll require a sample of his blood."
"The cause… should be this."
Russell handed over the bronze vial.
"Though most of its contents have already evaporated."
Sirius suddenly seemed to recall something.
"Kreacher—if I send you back to that place… can you find the way?"
"Of course!" Kreacher nodded vigorously. "If it means saving Master Regulus, Kreacher would drink that poison again without hesitation!"
"And the blood—"
Without a second thought, Sirius slashed his own arm open with his wand.
"Good heavens, child," Flamel said, half amused, half exasperated. "I understand your feelings—but I need Regulus's blood."
Sirius froze—then gave an awkward laugh, fumbling to stop the bleeding.
In the end, Russell stepped in and healed the wound for him.
They carefully collected a sample of the darkened blood from Regulus's body.
Just as Dumbledore was about to leave, he suddenly paused, as if remembering something.
"…You mentioned earlier—Regulus retrieved something Tom had hidden?"
"Yes, Professor," Harry nodded instinctively.
"Then where is it now?"
"In… in Master Regulus's bedroom," Kreacher replied, his tone noticeably more respectful toward Dumbledore.
He knew—
This was someone who could help.
They sealed the basement once more and made their way upstairs toward Regulus's room.
The moment they stepped out—
They ran straight into Hermione, who stood there with her hands on her hips, clearly annoyed.
"And where are the Christmas decorations?" she demanded. "Ron and I have nearly finished cleaning the entire living room!"
Since Albus Dumbledore was at the back of the group, Hermione hadn't noticed him at first.
"Professor Dumbledore—when did you get here?" she exclaimed, eyes wide.
Ron hurried over as well, equally stunned.
"Good evening, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore greeted them with a gentle nod, then followed Kreacher upstairs.
Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance.
"…Let's go take a look."
Perhaps moving a little too quickly, Dumbledore accidentally brushed aside the curtain covering Walburga Black's portrait.
She was just about to erupt into her usual shrieking—
But the moment she saw Dumbledore, she fell silent.
The madness in her eyes receded, replaced—briefly—by clarity.
"…It's been a long time, Walburga," Dumbledore said, slightly surprised, inclining his head.
"Dumbledore…" Her voice trembled. "My child is dead. He's dead…"
She suddenly broke into sobs.
"…I may have a different view on that," Dumbledore replied gently. "Regulus may yet be saved."
"Really?" Hope flickered across her face—
Only to be swallowed again by madness moments later.
Before she could descend into another outburst, Dumbledore sighed softly and drew the curtain shut once more.
They entered Regulus Black's bedroom.
Though long unoccupied, it was spotless—clearly maintained regularly by Kreacher.
At the center of the room stood a large glass display case.
Inside it rested a beautifully crafted locket.
The Slytherin locket—forged from gold, small enough to fit comfortably in one's palm. Its surface bore an ornate serpent-shaped "S," set with glittering emeralds.
"An exceptionally strong dark aura," Dumbledore murmured, narrowing his eyes.
There was no doubt—
This was one of Tom's Horcruxes.
"I'll take this with me," he said simply. "Nicolas and I will study it—and determine how to treat Regulus."
He opened the case and reached out.
The moment his fingers closed around the locket—
A surge of emotion flooded his mind.
Anger. Resentment. Chaos.
A storm of intrusive feelings.
Though he dispelled them quickly, a flicker of alarm crossed his face as he looked down at the locket.
Just touching it is enough…
Too dangerous.
What he could resist… others might not.
With a flick of his wand, he layered a protective charm over it before slipping it into his pocket.
"Professor… you're leaving already?" Sirius asked quickly.
"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore smiled faintly. "I would very much like to stay—but time is rather pressing."
He looked at them all.
"Allow me to wish you a Merry Christmas in advance."
And with that—
He vanished from the doorway.
"…What just happened?" Hermione and Ron stared at each other in confusion.
"What was that locket? Why did Professor Dumbledore come all this way?"
Completely lost, they turned to Harry, pressing him for answers.
After hearing the full story—
Ron swallowed hard.
"…Something connected to You-Know-Who…"
"…Yeah. That would explain it."
"Alright," Sirius said, clapping his hands once. "Back to cleaning."
"Kreacher—you're helping too."
Now that there was hope for Regulus's survival—
Kreacher's attitude had changed completely.
For the first time—
He worked without resistance.
Chapter 183: Christmas Feast
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