"Sirius ran away, and good riddance too, because he was a bad boy, and his disgraceful behavior broke my mistress's heart.
But Master Regulus had pride. He knew exactly what the name Black and his pure blood meant.
For years he often spoke of the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord would make it so wizards no longer had to hide, but could come out and rule over Muggles and Muggle-borns…
When Master Regulus was sixteen, he joined the Dark Lord's ranks. He was so proud, so proud, so happy, to serve—"
Listening to Kreacher, Sirius's brow furrowed tighter and tighter.
"What's your point?" he demanded.
"Master Sirius, Kreacher is getting there—"
Kreacher flinched, then started talking to the carpet again.
"Oh, you see? He really is unlikeable."
Sirius looked ready to lose his mind, but Sean caught him at the right moment.
"Kreacher is remembering… One year later, one day, Master Regulus came to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus had always liked Kreacher. Master Regulus said… he said…"
The old elf rocked faster.
"…he said the Dark Lord wanted an elf."
"Voldemort wanted a house-elf?" Sirius asked, bewildered.
Voldemort had always treated house-elves like vermin.
"Oh yes," Kreacher said painfully. "Master Regulus offered Kreacher. It was an honor, Master Regulus said. An honor for himself, and an honor for Kreacher."
"Hah."
Sirius let out a bitter laugh.
"Kreacher had to do whatever the Dark Lord told him to do… and then come—come home."
Kreacher rocked faster, his breath turning into sobs.
"So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what he wanted. He took Kreacher to a cave by the sea.
It was a great cave, and inside it was a black lake…"
Kreacher's hoarse voice seemed to rise straight off those dark waters.
"…and there was a boat…"
Of course there was a boat. That ghostly little green boat, enchanted so that it could carry only one wizard and one sacrifice to the island in the middle.
So this had been how Voldemort tested the protections on his Horcrux:
using a life that meant nothing. A house-elf.
"On the island was a stone—stone basin, full of potion. The Dark—Dark Lord made Kreacher drink…"
The elf's whole body shook.
"Kreacher drank, and while he drank he saw terrible things… Kreacher's insides were on fire…
Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, cried for his mistress, but the Dark Lord only laughed… he forced Kreacher to drink every drop… he dropped a locket into the empty basin… and then filled the basin again with potion.
Then the Dark Lord got back in the boat and left, leaving Kreacher on the island…"
The picture Kreacher painted was so vivid that the hairs rose on the back of Sirius's neck.
He could almost see it—
Voldemort's pale, snake-like face vanishing into the dark, his red eyes fixed coldly on the house-elf writhing in agony.
His opinion of his "idiot" brother sank even lower.
"Kreacher needed water. He crawled to the edge of the island and tried to drink from the black lake… Many hands, dead hands, rose out of the water and dragged Kreacher under…"
"And how did you get away?" Sirius asked mockingly.
Kreacher raised his ugly little head and looked at Sirius with bloodshot eyes.
"Master Regulus told Kreacher to go home."
he said.
"I know—but how did you get away from the Inferi?"
Kreacher seemed unable to understand the question.
"Master Regulus told Kreacher to go home."
he repeated.
"I know, but—"
"He Apparated."
Sean said quietly, finishing the explanation for him.
"A house-elf's highest law is its master's command," Kreacher said, almost like he was singing.
"Master told Kreacher to go home, so Kreacher went home…"
"What happened after you got back?" Sirius asked at once.
A terrible suspicion had just struck him.
"Kreacher came home. Master Regulus was very worried, very worried."
Kreacher cried hoarsely.
"Master Regulus told Kreacher to hide and not leave the house.
Then… after some time… one night, Master Regulus came to the cupboard and found Kreacher.
Master Regulus looked strange, not like himself. Kreacher could see his heart was in turmoil… Master ordered Kreacher to take him to the cave—the same cave Kreacher had gone to with the Dark Lord…"
So they had gone together. Sirius could see it clearly in his mind: a terrified, aging little elf, and his younger brother.
Kreacher knew how to open the hidden entrance to the underground cave. He knew how to summon the little boat. This time, he and Regulus sailed together to the island with the basin of potion…
"He made you drink it?" Sirius asked.
Kreacher shook his head and broke into helpless sobbing.
Sirius covered his face in pain. He had already guessed.
"M-Master Regulus took a locket from his pocket, one just like the Dark Lord's," Kreacher said, tears pouring down both sides of his long nose.
"He told Kreacher to hold it, and when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets…"
Kreacher's sobbing grew harsher and rougher. Sirius had to focus hard just to understand him.
"He ordered—Kreacher to leave—to leave him.
He told Kreacher—to go home—not to tell Mistress—what he had done—but Kreacher must destroy—the first locket.
Then he drank—he drank all the potion—Kreacher switched the lockets—and watched… Master Regulus… dragged beneath the water… and then…"
"Stop talking!"
Sirius growled.
Now the truth was obvious.
His brother Regulus had not been some coward who backed out because he was afraid. He had seen through Voldemort's cruelty and chosen to defy him, even at the cost of his life.
"I think perhaps you should have this."
Sean said suddenly, handing Sirius a note.
On it was written:
To the Dark Lord,
I know I will be dead long before you read this.
But I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,
you will at last be mortal.
R.A.B.
Sirius took it with shaking hands, his gaunt face twisting.
The word Horcrux stabbed at his eyes. The phrase I face death seemed to stop his heart.
When Sirius finally came back to himself, he suddenly remembered that the mysterious young wizard in front of him had said he had already destroyed several Horcruxes.
He couldn't help connecting that with things he had read in the papers. Once everything was linked together by that one word—Horcrux—he could already infer how dangerous all of this really was.
He looked ahead. The young wizard was watching the last glow of sunset.
"So that's our goal?" he asked.
"Of course, Mr. Black. You've seen it now. A goal that must be completed."
the deep-eyed young wizard said.
"What future have you seen?" Sirius asked again.
"Do you need to know?" the young wizard asked with a gentle smile.
"We have to fight him. But this is beyond difficult."
Sirius said hoarsely.
"What was it you thought about in Azkaban, sir?
I think perhaps you realized something: even if a man has only lived one day, he can still spend a hundred years in prison without being unable to bear it.
He has enough to remember. He will never truly be bored. In a way, that too is a kind of joy.
That is hope, sir.
Hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. And good things never die."
Sirius watched the last of dusk vanish in an instant, and night fall from the sky.
He saw the wide earth bare its solid chest, as though in summons—
like a woman calling to her children,
like hope calling warriors to come.
~~~
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