Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 330 Slytherin's Locket

As he spoke, he extended his hand; the aged skin on his arm, like that on his stomach, hung down in wrinkles.

Vaughn withdrew his gaze from the crack in the wall, smiled, and casually took Kreacher's hand.

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This attitude made Kreacher glance at him, but he didn't say anything. The old house-elf snapped his fingers almost impatiently.

Space instantly distorted, and the rapidly moving vortex stretched him and Vaughn into long strips, pulling them into a single point of mass.

The next second, a cylindrical spatial tunnel formed in front of Vaughn.

Vaughn's spatial abilities were naturally extremely high. By observing the reflections of the surrounding reality gliding along the spatial passage, he quickly discerned that Kreacher was able to lead him into the Black family home not because the house-elf knew how to break the spell, but because the wizard who cast the spell on the family home had specially left a passage for the elf.

Only sprites are allowed to enter and exit.

"However, although this series of spells only exempts the sprites, for me, as long as I see the portal coordinates, I can then restore them from memory and use the dimensional gate to calculate and replicate them—ha, old Black's claim that he doesn't know how to break the spell and thinks this will restrict my access to Black's ancestral home is just a pipe dream!"

Of course, because of the close proximity, it all happened in the blink of an eye. The apparition and reappearance ended quickly, and in the blink of an eye, Vaughn found himself standing in a living room.

He temporarily put aside his memories and looked around.

The living room is spacious, but the lighting and furnishings make it appear dark and dilapidated.

In 1979, Regulus and Orion passed away one after the other. The last owner of the Black family home was Walbuga, who died in 1985, seven years ago.

For seven years, the old house remained abandoned, maintained solely by the elderly Kreacher. The house-elves, having lost their owner, clearly lacked motivation. The living room floor and furniture were covered in dust, clearly bearing the footprints of the elves and the traces of rats crawling in the corners.

Only by looking through those footprints and traces, revealing the intricate patterns and trims of the furniture, can one glimpse the former luxury of the old house.

"Perhaps I can turn this place into my new experimental base—"

Vaughn suddenly thought.

However, that was not his main purpose for coming today.

Just as Vaughn was pondering this, a quarrel erupted from the side of the living room: "This is Black's house, my fathers' house, you old geezer, how dare you hand it over to a stranger, a wicked Weasley!"

"Shut up, you ugly thing! I am the fathers you speak of. This is my house, and I can let whoever I want in. I don't need your permission."

"Phineas Black is long dead. You're just a worthless painting, you idiot!"

"You talk as if you're not the same person! Get out of my picture frame!"

Vaughn followed the sound and found that the argument was taking place in the hallway connecting to the living room. Several portrait paintings, depicting people of all ages, were hung on both sides of the hallway. Judging from the colors of the canvas and the layers of paint, the paintings spanned a wide period of time.

However, most of the people in those portrait paintings are motionless, as if they were not considered to be "moved" during the original production.

In the painting closest to the living room, Phineas Black and an old witch with a black veil and skin as pale as a dead man are wrestling, exchanging blows and beating each other fiercely.

Upon seeing Vaughn emerge, old Black kicked the old witch away with a flourish, then, feeling refreshed, pinched his own waist and said with a fawning smile, "I'm sorry to have made you laugh, dear Weasley. This is my great-granddaughter, Walbuga, Sirius's mother, a madwoman. You don't need to take her words to heart."

Walbuga and Sirius's father, Orion, are actual cousins.

Orion's lineage originates from Sirius II, the eldest son of Phineas, while Volbuga's lineage originates from Signas I, the youngest son of Phineas.

No matter how you look at it, they are indeed of Phineas's bloodline, his great-grandchildren.

In Vaughn's previous life, such a marriage between cousins ​​would have been a very serious ethical problem. But in this magical world, Vaughn has seen countless pure-blood families marrying each other for the sake of the so-called "pure-blood" ideal. There are even more extreme cases than theirs, so he is no longer surprised.

Of course, habit does not equate to agreement. Biologically speaking, close relatives are very likely to have genetic problems.

The Gaunt family is a prime example, and there's also Walbuga in the corner of the frame right now. Walbuga, who had been kicked away, got up while Phineas and Vaughn were talking, howling as he pounced on his great-grandfather, beating and biting him like a wild beast.

"You beast! You bastard! You old pig! I'll fight you to the death!"

"Damn it, let go of your mouth, you crazy woman—Kreacher, you bastard who deserves to have his head chopped off, show Mr. Weasley around the house first, my dear Weasley, we'll talk after I deal with this unfilial good-for-nothing."

The two men were fighting inside the picture frame, screaming like pigs being slaughtered.

Hearing his old master's summons, Kreacher reluctantly came out, muttering under his breath, "Yes, old Kreacher should have been beheaded long ago. He always wanted to be like his father, to have his head dried and hung in the master's bedroom as a keepsake. But who in the Black family can behead Kreacher now? That good-for-nothing traitor Sirius?"

Despite being mentally prepared, Vaughn was still amazed by the twisted mentality of this family from top to bottom.

""

Kreacher shuffled over to Vaughn, dejected. "Come on, Weasley, Kreacher will show you around this mansion that's lost its owner—humph, yet another thief eyeing Black's fortune. But Kreacher doesn't care. What's the point of all this without an owner?"

Kreacher was very unfriendly, but Vaughn didn't mind. Having met the Sprites, he knew that house-elves had long been enslaved by wizards and their minds had become alienated, making it difficult for humans to understand their temperament.

Furthermore, although the little elves have eccentric personalities, they are actually very simple-minded. Everything they do depends on the "master" they have chosen, and they are willing to do anything for their master.

In some ways, house-elves are much more affectionate and loyal than humans.

Vaughn ignored Kreacher's mutterings and followed him until they reached the stairs, away from the hallway where the argument had taken place, before asking, "Kreacher, is the locket still there?"

"!"

The elderly Kreacher whirled around, his large, now cloudy eyes staring at Vaughn in shock, before quickly feigning confusion: "Weasley, what locket?"

Vaughn actually really enjoys dealing with the elves. There's no need for beating around the bush; he went straight to the point: "The locket that Regulus took you to in 1979 before he died."

Upon hearing this, Kreacher screamed, snapped his fingers, and his body instantly stretched into a long strip, disappearing into the air.

Space seemed to be swirling around me like a viscous vortex, and everything in my field of vision was stretched by that swirling space and projected toward the central point.

Kreacher panicked.

Normally, he shouldn't be in such a panic anymore. A house-elf without its master is no different from being dead, unless the contract automatically transferred the master position to Sirius Black after the master's death.

The head of the Black family is the master of Kreacher; this is a contract written in their blood, and no elf can break it.

Although he didn't like Sirius.

He felt that having such a useless master was worse than death, but unfortunately that useless master was still locked up in Azkaban, and he couldn't die without the master's permission.

But even Kreacher, who wasn't afraid of death, still had things he feared.

Crack!

With a loud bang, Kreacher tumbled out of thin air. The hasty Apparition left him gasping for breath and feeling pain all over his body. He was too old, and had been in a slump for seven years, his magic long since wasted.

Kreacher paid no attention to any of that. He quickly scanned his surroundings. It was pitch black, but the familiar scent told him that he hadn't appeared in the wrong place. This was underground at Black's old house, in a small stone pit.

It's also his "bedroom"!

Kreacher skillfully made his way to his bedside, hurriedly pulled off the covers, and amidst the rustling sound, he quickly found a cold locket.

"oh--"

Kreacher clutched the locket tightly, breathing heavily and sobbing.

He was terrified, thinking he had lost something more important than his life.

This was his greatest fear. The locket was given to him by Regulus, the second most beloved owner in his life (his first love was Orion, and Kreacher's greatest wish was to be beheaded by Orion).

Regulus's master instructed him that he must destroy the locket, he must destroy it!

But Kreacher tried everything, and he couldn't do it. He could only keep it with him; if he lost it, then he—

Just as he was thinking this, Kreacher suddenly realized that the locket was still there. So, how did Weasley know that?

The next second, Kreacher felt a cool breeze blowing into the narrow, stuffy stone pit.

Creepy!

But before he could raise his hand to activate Apparition, a red light struck him in the darkness, and the surging magical power instantly paralyzed his entire body.

Then, a glowing light appeared.

He saw that wretched, terrifying Weasley emerge from a sphere that had appeared out of nowhere in the pit.

"Thank you for leading me to it, Kreacher."

Kreacher stared wide-eyed as the wretched Weasley walked up to him, bent down, and snatched the locket from his arms.

He wanted to scream, to stop, to use magic.

However, once struck by the petrification curse, the paralyzed and stiffened body made all these thoughts impossible to realize.

Tears streamed down his face, pooling in his bloodshot eyes and deep-set sockets.

Beside him, Vaughn, having received the locket, straightened up and, in the faint glow of the glowing spell, examined the exquisite ornament in his hand.

The locket is made of silver, with a snake engraved on the lid. The snake is exquisitely patterned and is the symbol of Slytherin. Perhaps because it was often handled and studied by Kreacher, the entire locket has developed a thick patina, making it look like a mirror.

It resembles a well-preserved Muggle antique.

Even when observing the aura with magical vision, no trace of magic can be seen on it.

But in Vaughn's eyes, which were adorned with the Vision Charm, the locket appeared as a black hole, with the spectrum of light other than visible light distorting and swirling around it, repelled by a hidden and dangerous force—powerful magic attached to it, interfering with the anomalies that appeared in reality.

It's clearly the black magic left behind by the Socket Man.

Vaughn hesitated for a moment and did not attempt to decipher it. After all, he did not know much about black magic and it would be difficult to determine how much black magic the suspicious Tom had cast on this small locket.

In fact, if it weren't for that group from North America suddenly joining forces with Tom, he wouldn't have acquired this Horcrux at this point in time.

He is still in the stage of constantly enriching his knowledge, learning magic, and growing stronger. His personality and physical body are also still evolving. He has not yet found a way to filter out the pollution, so he does not want to focus his energy on dark magic for the time being.

Unfortunately, the tree may wish to remain still, but the wind will not cease.

Thinking this, he held the locket in one hand and reached out the other to Kreacher, who was staring at him intently and constantly shedding tears, gently pressing his head down.

Wisps of mist fell from his sleeves, but instead of dissipating, they became viscous and, as if they were sentient, seeped into Kreacher's mouth and nose.

Vaughn then removed the petrification curse from Kreacher.

The anti-curse had just taken effect when Kreacher got up, wailing and crying as he raised his hands as if to use some kind of magic.

But soon, he stopped.

It wasn't that Vaughn controlled him with his Persona, but rather a simple question: "Kreacher, do you want to bring Regulus back?"

Upon hearing that familiar name, Kreacher froze, his hands raised in a gesture of respect: "Bring back Master Regulus?"

Vaughn nodded: "Yes, I know what happened to you. In 1979, the Dark Lord borrowed you from Regulus. He took you to a cave by the sea. Inside the cave was a large black lake, and on a small island in the lake was a stone basin filled with potions. The Dark Lord forced you to drink all the potions—"

As Vaughn spoke, Kreacher's eyes widened more and more.

Nobody should know about this.

Besides him and young master Regulus, there is also the Dark Lord.

Kreacher's barren mind couldn't comprehend what was going on, but he listened intently. Although he had personally experienced everything that happened back then, those experiences were too terrifying for him to bear. It was as if the mere thought of them would bring back the thirst and excruciating pain he felt when he drank the Stone Basin Potion, as if his internal organs were on fire.

And—Young Master Regulus!

"—The Dark Lord's arrogance and contempt allowed you to Apparate home. Regulus saved you, but when he learned of your experiences, his faith crumbled. He discovered that the master he served was not the one he had imagined. At the same time, he discovered the Dark Lord's secret."

"He takes you back to the cave."

"oh""

Kreacher's loud wail interrupted Vaughn's words. The old elf knelt on the ground, trembling, crying with tears streaming down his face. His large nose was as red as if a tomato was hanging on his face.

He sneezed and banged his head against the ground.

"It's Kreacher's fault—Kreacher shouldn't have gone home. If Kreacher hadn't gone home, Master Regulus wouldn't have gone to the cave, wouldn't have drunk the dry potion, and wouldn't have ordered Kreacher to switch the locket—useless Kreacher, useless Kreacher! Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to destroy the real locket, but Kreacher tried everything, and he just couldn't do it—"

His head was smashed open, and blood mixed with green snot made him look disgusting and miserable.

But Vaughn just watched calmly.

This punishment is due to the contract; all little elves will engage in this self-harming behavior when they are unable to fulfill their master's commands.

He was not Kreacher's master and could not order Kreacher to stop; obstruction was futile.

However, the contract between house-pockets can sometimes be circumvented.

After all, all magic is based on emotions, so in a sense, strong emotions can also interfere with magic.

As he pondered, Vaughn slowly said, "Yes, Regulus gave his life to save you. He loved you, Kreacher, but now he lies at the bottom of the cold lake."

Kreacher, who had slammed his head against the wall, collapsed to the ground. He lifted his face, which was covered in blood, snot, and tears, and looked at Vaughn again. His eyes were no longer filled with anger, and he no longer paid attention to the locket.

He pleaded desperately, "Your Excellency Weasley, can you bring back the young master? Bring him back from the bottom of that lake full of corpses and hands."

Vaughn didn't say anything, but simply crouched down and held the locket up in front of Kreacher's eyes.

The old elf paused, then banged his head a few more times, asking in a hoarse voice, "If I give you this evil thing, you—will bring Master Regulus back?"

"Yes, it's a deal."

"----good!"

Upon hearing Kreacher's reply, a wisp of white mist flashed in Vaughn's eyes.

This is a transaction, and also an experiment.

The transaction was made because the locket was kept by Kreacher, and if it were taken away directly, the other party would definitely try to take it back, and with all the commotion, the secret of the locket would be hard to keep hidden.

Killing him wouldn't be safe either, as it could easily alert Phineas Black, who also wanted to "occupy" Black's ancestral home, so it wasn't wise to offend him.

"Trading" is worse than robbing.

On the other hand, it is also an attempt to understand the logic of the social contract of the little elves, as well as the role of strong emotions.

It seems that Kreacher's feelings for Regulus allow him to make relatively free decisions.

Of course, from Vaughn's own heart, he also wanted to bring Regulus back.

Just as he had told Phineas Black on the way here, Regulus was a brave and respectable wizard.

Holding Kreacher's hand, Vaughn used Minion Manifestation to follow Kreacher through the spatial passageways.

The twisting and shifting scenery in the passageway changed continuously. After an unknown amount of time, a powerful squeezing force forced the two of them to "vomit".

They went out.

The elderly Kreacher stumbled a few steps, then plopped down on the ground, panting, "We're here, Mr. Weasley. The cave is down below."

77

Compared to his exhaustion, Vaughn, whose attendant had materialized, showed no signs of distress. He raised his head and observed his surroundings.