Hogwarts' Golden Glory

And so Sirius, holding Regulus's corpse, and the others pulled Kreacher along.

After a flash, they found themselves in the hallway of Hogwarts.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating Sirius's face and Regulus's pale face.

Kreacher knelt at Sirius's feet, trembling with sobs.

Sirius held Regulus in his arms, looking down at his brother's ashen face.

“I know a reversal magic,” he said softly, “that can restore an Infernal to its former state. I want to restore him to his original form and then bury him in the Black family cemetery. He should return home with dignity.”

Kreacher looked up, his huge eyes filled with tears.

"Kreacher...Kreacher doesn't want to go with Sirius Black anymore."

Sirius glanced at it. "Whatever."

Kreacher turned to Kane, his voice sharp and firm.

"Kreacher obeys Master Malfoy. Master Malfoy rescued Master Regulus, and Kreacher is loyal to Master Malfoy."

Kane looked down at the house-elf. "Then you'll stay at the Black family mansion. Take care of it and wait for the Black family descendants. If the Black family has no descendants, the mansion will belong to the Malfoy family. You'll look after it for me."

Kreacher nodded vigorously. "Kreacher will definitely carry out this mission well. Kreacher will clean the old house spotless, waiting for young master Regulus to return home for his burial. Kreacher will not allow anyone to damage the Black family's belongings."

Sirius Black had no interest in Kreacher and Kane.

He held his younger brother, wanting nothing more than to leave as quickly as possible.

Dumbledore looked at Kane, his blue eyes gleaming with shrewdness.

"Regrus took Slytherin's locket, didn't he? It's in your hands now."

Kane did not deny it. "Yes."

Dumbledore nodded, without surprise.

"Tom likes to make Horcruxes from things that have sentimental value. They need to be precious, historically significant, and related to his own background. The Slytherin locket fits his style perfectly."

"Do you know what other Horcruxes there are?" Dumbledore asked.

Kane was silent for a moment. "The Hufflepuff Cup. In Gringotts, in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault."

A hint of seriousness flashed in Dumbledore's blue eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. And I have a way to get my hands on it. I just need the principal's help!"

"What kind of help?"

Kane said a few words in a low voice.

Dumbledore listened and nodded.

"Sure. But I want Honeydukes' new candies. After all, I need some performance fee, right?"

"Then it's settled," Kane said.

Dumbledore nodded, then turned and walked deeper into the corridor. His robes billowed behind him, and he quickly disappeared into the darkness.

"You should all go back now, and remember to take good care of my future assets!"

With a "snap," Kreacher and Sirius disappeared.

It was almost dawn. He should go back to his dormitory.

He dragged his heavy steps toward the Slytherin cellar, uttered the command, and the stone door slid open.

The common room was empty.

He went into the dormitory and lay down on the bed.

Igor curled up beside his pillow, the warm feathers brushing against his face.

He closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.

the other side.

Harry didn't sleep well all night.

He lay in bed, his mind filled with Ron's words.

"You don't consider me a friend at all?"

"How did you do that?"

"All you need now is for the media to take your pictures."

These words pierced his heart like needles.

He tossed and turned until dawn before finally drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, Harry woke up and wanted to talk to Ron, but Ron's bed was empty.

The blanket was folded neatly, as if deliberately folded for his benefit—meaning "I'm not waiting for you."

Harry felt a pang of sadness. He washed up, got dressed, and left the dormitory.

In the common room, Ron was talking to Seamus and Dean.

Seeing Harry come out, Ron stood up. "Let's go get breakfast."

He said to Simon and Dean.

He didn't call me Harry.

The three men walked past Harry, but Ron's gaze did not linger on him.

Harry stood there, feeling as if he had been slapped in the face.

He took a deep breath and then walked out of the common room.

He deliberately slowed his pace, not wanting to walk into the hall with them.

When he arrived at the entrance of the Great Hall, he saw Hermione standing by the door, looking pale and with heavy dark circles under her eyes.

"Hermione," Harry said, walking over, "you didn't sleep well either?"

Hermione looked at him, her eyes slightly dazed. "Harry...you and Ron..."

"We had a fight," Harry said. "He thinks I signed up without his knowledge."

"You don't," Hermione said.

How did you know?

"Because I knew it at a glance. You were all surprised. Neither you nor Kane are those kinds of people." Hermione's voice was low.

"So after that happened, I went to find Kane. But I think I heard something I shouldn't have heard."

Harry paused, startled. "What did you hear?"

Hermione did not answer.

She looked down at the tips of her shoes.

"I saw him talking to Fleur. Fleur asked him what our relationship was. He said—we're good friends. Hermione is talented and hardworking."

Her voice began to tremble.

"Furong asked him if he wasn't considering taking things further. He replied that they were just friends for now."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Hermione..."

He said we were just friends. He said I was just a friend.

Hermione looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. "Harry, I stood in the hallway for a long time last night. I thought he... I thought he had at least a little bit of..."

She didn't finish speaking.

Tears welled up in her eyes and silently slid down her cheeks.

Harry has never seen Hermione cry.

Hermione is the kind of person who can calmly analyze and find solutions to any problem. She doesn't cry.

But she was crying.

Standing at the entrance of the auditorium, amidst the comings and goings of people, she was crying.

"Hermione..." Harry didn't know what to say.

"I'm fine." Hermione wiped away her tears, but more welled up. "I just... I just didn't expect it to hurt this much. I thought I didn't care. I thought I just wanted to help him, to study magic with him. But when I heard him say 'just friends,' this—" She clutched her chest, "it hurts so much."

Harry reached out and gently patted her shoulder.

"He doesn't know," Harry said. "He doesn't know you like him."

"He knows," Hermione said softly. "Fleur asked him if it was because he didn't have feelings for me, and he didn't deny it. He just doesn't have feelings for me."

Harry opened his mouth, but couldn't say a word.

Apart from Kane and Hermione, no one believed he was forced to become a warrior.

Kane is very busy every day.

Hermione is now heartbroken and has to comfort herself, which Harry finds terrible.

"Come on. Don't cry," Harry said. "Let's go get breakfast. If we don't go in soon, there won't be any left."

"I know," Hermione said, forcing a smile. "Don't tell anyone. I'm Hermione Granger, I don't cry."

Hermione turned and walked into the Great Hall.

Harry followed behind her.

He watched Hermione's retreating figure and suddenly realized that she looked much thinner than usual.

It's not that I'm thin, it's that I'm tired.

Tired.

He thought that perhaps he should go and talk to Kane tonight.

It wasn't for Horcruxes, it wasn't for the competition.

It was for Hermione.

Harry sighed and walked into the Great Hall.

At the Gryffindor table, Ron sat between Seamus and Dean, chatting and laughing.

He didn't look at Harry.

Hermione sat down opposite Harry, keeping her head down so that no one could see her face.

Harry looked at Ron, recalling what the other had said yesterday.

He looked down at his plate and suddenly felt like he didn't want to eat anything.

This school, this academic year, this competition.

And then there are all these messy friendships.

He picked up a piece of beef and started tearing it apart.

Tear it apart piece by piece.

Tear it into small pieces.

It's really good for relieving stress.