Chapter 189: Preparing for Resurrection
Somewhere else-
Dumbledore arrived at the entrance of the Black family home.
Behind him stood a figure cloaked entirely in black.
With a casual flick of the Elder Wand, he unlocked the door—one that should have responded only to Black blood.
They stepped inside.
Before Walburga Black could unleash her usual shrieking tirade, Dumbledore silenced her portrait with a quiet spell.
They moved swiftly through the house—
All the way down to the cellar.
To Regulus.
"That doesn't look good," the cloaked figure said.
"Yes," Dumbledore replied, concern evident. "Which is why we must act quickly. If we delay any longer… he may be beyond saving."
"Then take him," the figure said. "We'll proceed to Hogwarts."
Dumbledore raised his wand.
One by one, the rune-etched chains binding Regulus Black peeled away from his body.
Freed—
Regulus let out a guttural, inhuman growl.
Drawn by the scent of the living, he staggered toward Dumbledore.
A second flick—
And he froze in place, immobilized.
From within the black cloak, a circular device floated out.
It opened like a silent maw—
And swallowed Regulus whole.
Half an hour later—
Kreacher crept into the cellar, intending to check on his young master.
What he found—
Was nothing.
Regulus was gone.
His scream echoed through the entire house.
Meanwhile—
Dumbledore had already returned to his office at Hogwarts.
"You may remove the cloak now, Nicolas," he said gently.
The figure complied.
Beneath the robes—
Was not a man.
But an alchemically-crafted humanoid construct.
Nicolas Flamel, though sustained by the Elixir of Life, had long since grown too frail for such exertions.
Sending his real body on such a journey would have been impossible.
Fortunately—
This puppet could act in his stead.
And more importantly—
It could do what needed to be done.
"Ah! Nicolas Flamel—my old friend!"
One of the portraits burst to life immediately.
The most flamboyant—and most insufferable—former headmaster of Hogwarts leaned forward eagerly.
"What brings you here, hmm? A social visit?" he asked, brimming with curiosity.
The other portraits, who had clearly been on the verge of throttling him—
Quieted down, listening intently instead.
The portraits leaned forward, clearly eager to hear why Nicolas Flamel had come.
But to their surprise—
He didn't answer at all.
Instead, he reached into his chest cavity and withdrew something that looked disturbingly like a mechanical heart.
"A portable alchemical laboratory… how very thorough," Albus Dumbledore said with a faint smile.
Without it, they would have had no choice but to rely on the Room of Requirement.
With a series of sharp, clicking gear sounds—
Both men vanished.
The "heart" dropped to the floor with a dull clunk.
"I must know what they're doing!" the Black headmaster groaned, practically writhing with curiosity.
For once—
The other portraits unanimously agreed.
Inside the Portable Alchemical Laboratory
Though compact, the space within was complete in every sense.
Small—
Yet fully equipped.
Dumbledore raised the Elder Wand.
Twelve mithril candle stands lifted into the air, slowly orbiting the chamber, casting shifting silver light.
Flamel etched runes into a stone slab with a jade-tipped finger.
Each carved line glowed faint gold.
"Regulus's soul is thinner than morning mist," he said, his voice grinding like clockwork.
A hidden compartment in his hand clicked open—
Three drops of pearlescent liquid fell into a boiling silver crucible.
At the center of the array—
Regulus Black hovered.
His pale body was suspended by fine silver threads like a web.
Dark green corrosion stains spread across his chest—remnants of the cursed potion.
"I need his memories," Flamel said suddenly.
Dumbledore understood immediately.
He produced a crystal vial.
Inside—
Silver strands of memory swirled violently.
This was the final memory Kreacher had preserved.
The moment the memory was injected into the array—
The star charts on the walls began rotating in reverse.
Regulus's fingers twitched.
Three of the silver threads binding him snapped in succession.
His Inferi body shifted—
Turning a sickly blue-gray.
Dark green patterns spread across his skin like living veins.
The silver threads plunged deeper into his body, trying to extract the corruption—
But every time a strand of green was removed…
More emerged to replace it.
When half the silver threads were spent—
The corruption hadn't diminished in the slightest.
A harsh grinding echoed from within Flamel's chest.
He was unsettled.
"It's too late," he said quietly.
"His body has fully transformed into an Inferius. Reversal… will be extremely difficult."
He glanced at Dumbledore, who stood silent and grave.
"Let's try once more," Flamel added.
"If that fails… we'll have to use the final method."
He poured a potion mixed with dragon's blood into a rune-etched copper basin.
The liquid turned into ink-black serpents—
Coiling around Regulus's body.
"Final extraction attempt."
The twelve floating candles tilted in unison.
Falling wax froze midair—
Turning into golden threads that wove themselves into a luminous cocoon.
As Flamel spoke the third ancient rune—
Regulus's chest suddenly split open.
"Stop."
Flamel's voice cut through sharply.
The golden threads snapped shut—
But the damage was done.
Regulus's chest had collapsed into a hollow cavity—
Black, foul liquid seeping out.
"The transformation runs deeper than expected," Dumbledore said, wiping condensation from his glasses.
"It seems… we must proceed with your final plan."
"Don't worry," Flamel replied softly.
"It's quite simple."
A pause.
"I'm just not sure… whether he'll like it."
With a downward motion of his hand—
An amber sphere descended from the ceiling.
Inside, milky-white matter churned and hummed faintly.
Flamel gestured.
Dumbledore dipped a crystal spoon into the sphere.
The viscous liquid stretched into fine, silvery threads as it lifted—
A base solution made from unicorn tears and May morning dew.
"We begin with the skin."
A cabinet along the western wall burst open.
Thirty-six glass vials floated out—
Each containing translucent keratin extracted from moon-fed lilies.
When the solution and keratin merged—
A pearlescent membrane began forming midair.
Gradually—
It took on a humanoid shape.
Dumbledore raised his wand again—
Carefully extracting fragments of uncorrupted skin from Regulus's decaying body.
The moment those fragments fused with the membrane—
The new surface shifted—
Taking on a cold, flawless pallor.
Like something reborn—
Yet not entirely human.