The moon was dark, the wind was high, and the night was deep.
On the desolate seaside cliff, only the howling cold wind and the crashing waves against the rocks could be heard.
Carl felt the cold, damp air, and looking out, the world was swallowed by darkness.
The blurry, strange shadows all around were indistinct, as if countless ghosts were hidden within them.
"Is this the place?"
"Yes, Kreacher will not forget."
The old House-elf was trembling all over, and sorrowful tears streamed down his face; if it weren't for Carl's command, he would probably have already burst into tears.
"Very good, can you directly take me to the small island in the center of the lake within the cave?"
Carl did not want to follow Dumbledore and Harry's steps—swimming, hiking, boating, riddles, bloodletting, and breaking curses—this whole process was indeed a bit troublesome.
Since Lord Voldemort's magic couldn't stop a House-elf, he didn't need to bother.
Not to mention it was still winter; who in their right mind would go diving in the sea in the dead of winter? Carl certainly didn't want to.
"Yes! Kreacher remembers clearly! Poor Master Regulus drank all the poison there! When Kreacher was exchanging the locket, he saw Master being dragged into the water by—
Seeing Kreacher kneeling and preparing to bang his head against a rock, Carl helplessly pointed his wand at him, "Stand up! Hurry and take me there! Then find your master's body and take him away!"
Faced with Carl's scolding and command, the disciplined House-elf quickly got up.
"Right! Right! Hurry over! My poor Master! Kreacher has come back for you!"
Carl grabbed one of Kreacher's big ears, and with a crisp popping sound, two figures, one tall and one short, vanished from the spot.
"Pop!"
Carl, reappearing, looked around; he and Kreacher had arrived on a flat rock island.
Deadly dark lake water surrounded the island, seemingly boundless, with no opposite shore visible, and together with the cave ceiling, it was covered by an impenetrable, heavy darkness.
And in the endless darkness, a faint green light flickered not far away.
Carl released Kreacher and walked to the source of the light; in a stone basin above a Black base, there was a full measure of emerald green liquid, emitting a shimmering phosphorescence.
"Poison! It's this poison!"
Kreacher let out a sharp shriek of terror, his tear-streaked face showing an expression of extreme dread.
This time Carl didn't make him shut up, because he was worried that if he didn't vent his emotions, the old House-elf might completely break down.
Kreacher had once been forced by Lord Voldemort to drink this poison, and after being tormented by pain, he nearly died.
Later, he watched his master, Regulus, being dragged into the water by Inferi after drinking the poison.
These memories were a tragic and desperate torment for the deeply subservient House-elf.
And...
Carl remembered Dumbledore's reaction after drinking this poison in the original story; even the Principal was tormented, kneeling, curled up, trembling, screaming, and even wishing for death from the pain.
While this was related to Dumbledore's sad past, it was enough to prove how terrifying the poison was.
Carl could hardly imagine how an eighteen-year-old Regulus had managed to endure it.
"Kreacher, wait for me outside."
Hearing Carl's command, Kreacher anxiously glanced at the dark lake water, "But if Kreacher goes out, he won't be able to help you, there are many Inferi at the bottom, and poor Master is down there too."
"Just leave, don't worry. It won't be long before I take your master out."
Looking at Carl's calm eyes, Kreacher hunched his shoulders and nodded, "Kreacher understands, please—you must find Kreacher's master."
After the House-elf left, Carl took a deep breath, then directly transformed.
With a clear neigh, the Ice Phoenix once again descended upon the world.
Carl's eyes shone with brilliant divine light, piercing through the darkness, and the biting cold wind howled endlessly in the silent cave.
The dark, calm lake water completely froze before it could even ripple.
All the Dark Arts set up by Lord Voldemort were destroyed by the terrifying power of ice and snow.
"Crack!"
Carl gently flapped his wings, and the frozen lake water immediately cracked and moved, raising Inferi frozen into ice sculptures, gathering before him.
After careful identification, Carl finally found the brave eighteen-year-old boy among the Inferi.
"It is an honor to meet you, Regulus Black, and at the same time, I regret only meeting you now."
As Carl sighed, an ice coffin formed, protecting Regulus's body.
"As for you…"
Carl transformed back into human form, his gaze sweeping over all the Inferi—men, women, elders, children—
Their withered bodies were eerily pale from being soaked in the lake water, their sunken eyes seemed to be staring at something, and the emptiness within them held endless despair.
"You must be yearning for revenge, so come with me."
After Carl spread his hands, an endless surge of Soul-Devouring Night Mist erupted, sweeping through the entire cave with him at its center.
All the Inferi enveloped by the Black mist melted and dissipated, then, in an ominous eerie glow, transformed into shrieking vengeful spirits.
"Don't worry, it's only a brief wait, it won't be long."
As Carl's low words echoed, the Soul-Devouring Night Mist and the vengeful spirits moving through it, like a tide, returned to his shadow.
Kicking over the stone basin holding the poison, Carl put away the fake locket.
Then, placing his hand on the ice coffin, he Apparated with Regulus's body, vanishing instantly.
"Master! My Master! Kreacher finally sees you again!"
Seeing Carl and the ice coffin suddenly appear, Kreacher was startled at first, then cried out, wanting to rush over.
Carl helplessly stopped him, lest the fellow freeze to death on the ice coffin.
"I'm going back to the Black ancestral home first."
After speaking, Carl vanished again with the ice coffin; it was better to let the House-elf calm down.
"Noble little Wizard! Powerful little Wizard! Please wait for Kreacher!"
In the dark basement, Carl opened the package containing the Slytherin locket.
Last Christmas, he had destroyed one of the Horcruxes, the Ravenclaw Diadem.
So this Christmas felt like something was missing, which led to this busy night.
The Slytherin locket required Parseltongue to open, and Carl didn't have that skill.
But it didn't matter; you didn't necessarily need a key to open a lock, a hammer would also work.
"Fire Treasure! Go give him two slaps! Make Senior Tom come out to greet us!"
"Eek!"
Fire Treasure: (Mouth) The little guy, full of momentum, raised his Fiendfyre mace and slammed it down onto the Slytherin locket.
A faint scream came from the locket, and the long golden chain whipped violently like a snake.
But Fire Treasure didn't care about that; he wielded the Fiendfyre mace like a drum, pounding relentlessly.
When the locket began to ooze a viscous, Black liquid, Lord Voldemort, hidden inside, finally couldn't bear it anymore and let out an angry hiss.
"Stop! Stop it now!"
Carl snapped his fingers, and Fire Treasure flew to the side with the mace on his shoulder, ready to charge at any moment.
"Click"
With a crisp sound, the locket's small golden lid sprang open, and an eye appeared behind each of the two small glass windows.
"Who are you?"
"I'm your daddy!"
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