days at Hogwarts

Chapter 529 Kreacher

The walls on both sides of the steps were lit with quaint gas lamps; the slightly yellowish light dispelled the darkness and illuminated the gray walls.

Hermione lagged behind him half a step, looking over his shoulder to check the structure of the house while keeping an eye on her feet, at a moderate pace: "I still remember that night in the Astronomy Tower, I asked you why you accepted his invitation, you said you gave Dumbledore face, and then you said you gave the You-Know-Who face, so what is hidden here, information related to Voldemort? Why do you know there are clues here?"

The girl asked more and more excitedly. She unconsciously quickened her pace and walked side by side with him, still chattering: "Why is it here? Was it left by Sirius' parents? Oh, it could be his brothers and sisters. I heard that the other children of the Black family have joined the Death Eaters. Was it left by them?"

Hermione's lips moved faster and faster. Suddenly, she stopped, her smart eyes sparkling: "Is it a Horcrux?"

"Why did you suddenly think of Horcruxes?" Loren's eyes flashed with admiration.

Hermione looked around cautiously. The hallway on the first floor was quiet with only a few dim lights. The curtains not far away were closed tightly without a gap. The portrait of the old witch was shrouded in darkness, silently.

"Because Voldemort... The You-Know-Who has the habit of giving Horcruxes to his subordinates for safekeeping. He gave the diary Horcrux to Lucius Malfoy, the Hufflepuff gold cup to Bellatrix, and wanted Peter Pettigrew to sneak into Hogwarts Castle to steal the Ravenclaw Diadem. So I wondered if he would give a Horcrux to a Death Eater in the Black family." Hermione spoke in a low voice, but could not hide the excitement in her tone.

Loren groaned and responded, "Hmm... That's a bold guess."

"So, is it what I thought?"

"Is it... or isn't it?" Loren drawled out his words, looking up at the living room on the second floor. When he went downstairs earlier, he had vaguely caught a glimpse of the display cabinets inside.

"Say it!"

"I was just about to say that, but you scared me so much that I forgot."

"..."

Hermione clenched her fists.

As they were talking, the two of them had already arrived at the entrance of the staircase that continued upwards and stepped onto the spiral stairs.

The living room on the second floor is a square room with a spacious space and a high ceiling. Dirty tapestries are hung on the olive green, and countless dust is buried in every strand of wool. The velvet curtains are buzzing, and that is the vixen hidden inside whispering.

The dilapidated and dim old house exuded a gloomy and strange atmosphere. Hermione moved closer to Loren and whispered, "Should we find someone to lead the way..."

"Don't worry too much. We can Apparate in this house and leave at any time." Loren replied softly. He just didn't want to listen to them arguing, so he came up to try his luck.

Further in, on either side of the fireplace were dusty glass-door cabinets filled with all sorts of oddities.

Loren's eyes reflected a faint crystal blue light as he identified these treasures that had been sealed for a long time:

There was a batch of rusty daggers, which were goblin works from the 16th century, judging from the craftsmanship. They were expensive and of great collection value. There were also animal claws and a coiled snake skin, which were all well-preserved magical animal organs that could be used to brew potions or make alchemical items. There was also a large number of dull and black silver boxes, which were engraved with Hebrew and whose functions were unknown. Some of them were engraved with curses.

The most peculiar thing was a decorative crystal bottle with a large opal inlaid on the stopper. The bottle was filled with the blood of an unknown creature and could not be taken out for identification. Loren could not tell what animal the blood was.

"Are there any Horcruxes among these things?" Hermione moved closer to observe carefully with him, "I think that bottle of blood looks very evil, perhaps it is the work of a dark wizard..."

"It's not here. What we are looking for is Slytherin's locket." Loren's crystal blue eyes looked more lively in the dim environment.

"Slytherin's locket..." Hermione slowed down her breathing unconsciously, a little surprised, but felt that it was expected. "Yes, we saw it in Hokey's memory. Madam Hepzibah Smith bought Slytherin's locket from Borgin and Burke at a high price. It was because of this that Tom Riddle coveted it and eventually poisoned it... Yes, he has tarnished the reputation of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and of course he doesn't mind tarnishing the reputation of Slytherin. If Dumbledore hadn't been vigilant, he would probably have made Gryffindor's sword into a Horcrux..."

At this point, Hermione sighed and became a little worried: "I don't know how many Horcruxes he made... Can we only look for them one by one? What if he made dozens or hundreds of them?"

Loren found it funny and shook his head: "Dumbledore said that Horcruxes are not something that can be mass-produced. How can a person's soul be divided dozens or hundreds of times? If that happens, we don't need to do anything, it will destroy itself."

"Who knows, Vol... The You-Know-Who isn't a normal wizard."

Just as the two of them were concentrating on observing the items in the display cabinet, a sinister and hoarse voice came from under the velvet curtain next to them. Although it was very soft, it could be heard clearly.

"Two mudbloods, wandering around the house carelessly and recklessly. If my mistress knew, she would cry so sadly..."

There stood an old house-elf, with a dirty rag tied around his waist, like the loincloth that men in tropical countries wear to cover their bodies. He was almost naked, and the loose skin of old age hung loosely on his bones. His head was bald like all house-elves, but a bunch of white hair grew in his two large bat-like ears, and his fleshy nose drooped.

The house-elf stared at the two with a vicious and burning gaze. His eyes were bloodshot and filled with turbid mist. "You must be the people invited by the red-haired old prodigal. You are full of the vile and filthy smell of Muggles. If my poor mistress knew about this..."

House elves, aging, gibberish...

Loren squinted his eyes and looked at him. He had guessed his identity, but he was not sure whether this elf could communicate normally. After all, he seemed to be brainwashed by pure-blood concepts and seemed to suffer from Alzheimer's disease...

"Who are you?" Hermione frowned. She had met many house-elves so far. No matter what the little guys thought, at least none of them would insult her.

The Black family tradition is really terrible!

The house-elf didn't even raise his eyelids, as if he didn't hear her, or completely ignored the two of them.

"Didn't you hear us asking who you are?"

Kreacher raised his eyelids, and his light-colored eyes suddenly widened with anger. Then he quickly recited in a voice that the two of them could hear clearly, "What a rude fellow, a rude mudblood, to speak to Kreacher like this, as if they were the distinguished guests of the Black family. But how could such guests not recognize the servants of the host family when they are in the Black family's house? It's really shameful. Poor old Kreacher, what can he do..."

Hermione couldn't help but frown: "Kreacher, can't you speak normally?" "Rude mudblood——"

"【Lock the tongue and seal the throat】"

"[Tongtong Petrochemical]"

Two spells were cast quickly, blocking the hoarse and low muttering in his mouth. A faint iron-blue color appeared on the elf's gray and aging skin, spreading along the chest of the cursed person and binding him in place.

Thanks to Loren's strong control over the spell, the petrification effect was controlled to the body below the neck. Ketcheli's mind and facial features were still able to move, but his enlarged tongue blocked his mouth, making him unable to speak.

"Loren, this..." Hermione blinked. She felt that although the house-elf was very rude, it didn't seem right to take direct action.

Loren did not look at the petrified Kreacher. He called two chairs from the corner, summoned a whirlwind to do a simple cleanup, and then sat down: "It should take some time before dinner starts. Aren't you curious about which Death Eater of the Black family the You-Know-Who gave the Horcrux to? There is a regrettable and admirable story hidden here. Let's talk about it slowly..."

"Uh! Uh-huh!"

When the petrified Kreacher heard this, an expression of incredible horror appeared in his eyes. He wanted to say something desperately, but he was restrained in place by an unreasonable powerful spell and could only make some meaningless grunting sounds.

Hermione looked at Kreacher who was petrified, then looked at Loren who was indifferent, vaguely guessed something, and sat down next to him.

"The protagonist of the story is Sirius Black's younger brother, named Regulus Black. Unlike the rebellious Sirius Black, he is the ideal heir in the hearts of the old Black couple. He has all the power of the Black bloodline, is wise and knowledgeable, has strong magical powers, and is tenacious and persistent..."

Kreacher's struggling slowed down and he lowered his head as if accepting his fate.

"Similarly, he is a staunch pure-blood believer and admirer of the Dark Lord. He was one of the first to join the Death Eaters. But surprisingly, he is not keen on torturing Muggles and Muggle-born wizards. He even has sympathy for the weak. He only worships bloodline and strength. It can be said that he is a pure Slytherin."

Kreacher's eyes began to become cloudy.

"One day, the Dark Lord asked him for a house-elf for experiments, which was an honor for any Death Eater, so he recommended his favorite and most familiar elf - Kreacher."

A muffled sob interrupted the narration, and Hermione turned her head to look over there.

Loren didn't pause, just glanced at him lightly, and continued: "Regulus didn't know that the so-called experiment was to set a vicious curse to protect the Horcrux, but he found clues from the frightened elf who returned home, and he became suspicious of the Dark Lord... He took the elf back to that place, found out the secret of the Dark Lord, and resolutely drank the poison and took the Horcrux. He entrusted the Horcrux to him, ordered him to destroy the Horcrux, and not tell any family members about this, and then died..."

Kreacher couldn't hold back any longer, tears welled up in his eyes, big drops of tears flowed through his pig nose and into his mouth full of gray teeth, his posture was as miserable as an old dog.

After listening to the story, Hermione was stunned for a long time before she came back to her senses: "This is really an admirable wizard."

Loren nodded in agreement, paused, turned to look at the crying elf over there, shook his fingers to remove the spell, and the sound was like a sharp dagger piercing into the heart, cutting the flesh and blood: "He could have imitated the Dark Lord and let the elf drink poison, but he chose to sacrifice himself."

Kreacher groaned and collapsed to the ground as if he was defeated. The surging emotions flooded his dull head. The pain and guilt made him breathless and he almost drowned in tears and snot. He opened his mouth wide, but no cry came out.

He gasped for a while as if suffocating, and then began to sob.

"Kreacher..." Loren lowered his voice, "You can't destroy Voldemort's Horcrux. Hand it over, and we will fulfill Regulus's last wish for you."

Kreacher raised his ugly head, looked at Loren with his bloodshot eyes, and trembled uncontrollably.

Hermione couldn't bear to watch.

Seeing the hidden fear and uneasiness in his eyes, mixed with some scrutiny, Loren smiled relaxedly: "Don't worry, before the Horcrux is officially destroyed, we still need to explain the situation to Dumbledore. I just want you to hand over the Horcrux to me for safekeeping."

"Can't I leave it with Kreacher?" Kreacher's voice was hoarse, and weak air slowly came out of his throat, "I'll hand it over to Mr. Dumbledore personally..."

“Not safe enough.”

"Kreacher has kept it for more than ten years!"

"But you are old, you have little energy, your mind is always confused, and there are too many wizards coming and going in this house. You never know when they will take advantage of your negligence and steal the Horcrux."

Loren tapped his fingers on the armrest of the chair. "Besides, you hate Sirius Black, and you are only forced to serve the last heir of the Black family. This also means that you might turn to the two married daughters of the Black family, become a minion of Voldemort, and become an accomplice of the murderer who killed Regulus. You might even hand over the Horcrux to them."

Kreacher's body trembled again. The loyalty of the house-elf could not be questioned. He wanted to deny it, but he couldn't say it.

Sometimes, he did have some secret thoughts...

An inexplicable fear gripped Kreacher's throat, making his already difficult breathing even heavier. He squeezed out a hoarse voice from his weakened throat: "Kreacher has never thought of working for the Dark Lord, never!"

Hermione understood the implication of this sentence, and the reluctance and sympathy in her eyes disappeared. She couldn't help but refute: "But the Black family's married daughters are Voldemort's servants. You can't disobey their orders."

Kreacher dropped his head.

"Okay, go find the Horcrux and leave it to me."

"Yes."

(End of this chapter)