Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 333 Sirius's Dream

"This is... a cycle?" In the vision of the Vision Spell, Vaughn clearly saw that when he poured out the potion, the light ripples of the stone basin, the stone pillar supporting the basin, the small island platform under his feet, and even the entire cavern suddenly became chaotic for a moment.

The already bizarre and strange light waves went out of order again, becoming even more chaotic and complex.

But Vaughn still accurately grasped the chaos of the light waves, and vaguely outlined an invisible "network" covering all objects in the entire cave.

(Go for it! ??????????????????n????.c????????m????Super reliable website,)

The spilled potion didn't disappear; instead, it returned to the stone basin through this "network."

At the same time, it's not that you can't touch the potion except through the container, but rather that the "network," or rather, the carrier of the "network," is rejecting "contact methods that do not conform to the settings."

Vaughn had a flash of inspiration: "The laws of nature!"

"gentlemen?"

Vaughn looked down and saw Kreacher, the old elf looking at him timidly yet expectantly.

Ok!

Although I really wanted to continue the research, I had made a commitment after all.

"Don't worry, I'll come and rescue Regulus right away," Vaughn reassured him.

Hearing the definite answer, Kreacher breathed a sigh of relief, then hurriedly asked, "Sir, is there anything I can do to help? There are many corpses at the bottom of the lake, and I don't know where the young master is, but I can go down and look for him—"

"No need, I have other ways."

Vaughn interrupted him.

Although Kreacher's method was clumsy, it was effective. Vaughn had already tested it before, and the magic Voldemort had set up in this cave interfered with spells such as the "Summoning Charm".

Without magical assistance, finding one of the thousands of scattered corpses in this vast lake would require a brute-force approach, eliminating them one by one.

However, the recent discovery has given Vaughn a new strategy.

"What method?" Kreacher asked curiously.

Vaughn smiled: "The Dark Lord has connected everything in the cave into a cycle like the laws of nature. He seems to want to create a world of his own here. He designed a series of rules for this small world that is independent of the outside world. The lake, the boat, the stone basin, the potion—they are all interconnected by cause and effect. They even unintentionally hindered our search for Regulus. Here, the infernals do not serve a protective function, but rather symbolize death and foreshadow the final fate of those who intrude into this place."

"In other words, if you don't follow the rules set by the Dark Lord, that is, drink all the potion in the bowl, death will not come, and the undead will not appear."

Upon hearing this, Kreacher, who had always been quite afraid of what he had encountered, glanced at the stone basin and said without hesitation, "Kreacher can drink the potion again!"

Vaughn chuckled and patted Kreacher's head: "Listen to me. Remember what I said? Pride is one of the Dark Lord's weaknesses."

He certainly has the ability to show off, but his pride and complacency often make him overlook certain possibilities, such as—

A young wizard, more than a decade later, miraculously conceived the same idea as him: to create a small world. This young wizard had already practiced it at Hogwarts and had extensive experience in doing so.

Kreacher paused for a moment before realizing that the "little wizard" Mr. Weasley was referring to was himself.

The old elf stared blankly as Mr. Vaughn Weasley pulled out his wand, the tip of which shimmered with magical light.

"The Dark Lord's magic is very profound, and I am ashamed to admit that I am not as good as him. However, no matter what kind of magic it is, it is ultimately the same as matter and needs to rely on space as its only carrier. Fortunately, I have some expertise in space."

"I may not be able to counter the Dark Lord's magic, but—I can shake its foundations!"

Kreacher's large eyes reflected the smile on Vaughn's face and the gentle swaying of his wand.

Without a sound, the strange sphere we had seen before reappeared, but unlike before, this time the sphere was not stationary, but was constantly rotating.

The moment it appeared, it covered the platform beneath our feet and the stone basin.

What Kreacher saw was a rather strange visual platform, a stone basin, and the distance between him and them, which seemed to be stretched out in an instant. No, to be more precise, everything in his field of vision was being pulled away, pulled away, or peeled off in a distorted state as if by a spherical lens!

Kreacher couldn't understand the situation, but he clearly saw the stone basin transform into a long, elongated phantom, seemingly composed of countless overlapping colors, and disappear into the distance.

The entire underground cavern trembled violently.

The dense darkness receded at a visible speed!

Whether it was his imagination or not, in his hazy state, he seemed to hear a cracking sound, a heavy groan as if the ground were splitting open.

You can hear the sound of waves crashing against the shore!

Kreacher snapped back to reality. To his surprise, he saw the lake water around the platform rapidly "approaching" in contrast to the darkness rapidly receding. The interplay of distance and proximity created a dizzying sense of spatial displacement.

In this distorted vision, Kreacher saw countless white "waves" surging up from the lake.

wrong!

That's not a wave!

Kreacher's eyes widened, and what came into view almost made him stop breathing—

Countless pale arms stretched out from the dark lake water, one on top of another, layer upon layer, in front of us and in the distance, overwhelming us, just like thirteen years ago, surging forth!

Kreacher instinctively took two steps back.

But then he realized that this moment was different from thirteen years ago. This time, he no longer felt the helplessness and grief of watching his young master being dragged into the lake. Instead, a burst of intense fire suddenly swept over him from behind.

The fire was a blazing orange-red, with intense heat waves.

They swept past him, forming a huge circle, and at the same time, the esteemed voice of Mr. Weasley reached Kreacher's ears: "Space has been temporarily distorted by me. The Dark Lord's world is temporarily disabled. Kreacher, use magic to recall your master!"

Kreacher still couldn't understand what Mr. Weasley was talking about, but he chose to listen.

In the distorted light and shadow, surrounded by firelight, the old elf raised a finger and chanted a spell in a hoarse voice: "Regulus, come!"

"call""

Sirius woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily, staring blankly at the dark ceiling of his cell, seemingly still trapped in the nightmare from moments before.

In Azkaban's cells, there was no day or night, and their schedules had long been disrupted, so Sirius couldn't tell what time it was.

Of course, time has no meaning in this damned place, and he doesn't care.

He was just a little confused; how long had it been since he had dreamed?

There are no answers; those things from a distant past have long been forgotten.

Those disgusting Dementors, who deserve to die a thousand deaths, not only drain wizards' emotions but also steal their dreams. It seems their purpose in the world is to turn wizards into mindless zombies.

However, he just had a terrible dream.

"I actually dreamed about Kreacher—"

Sirius Black touched his forehead with one hand and murmured softly, his tone somewhat broken. He felt that he was about to go crazy!

Sirius Black wouldn't be surprised if he dreamed of anyone, even Voldemort, but Kreacher—that disgusting, old, and stupid little elf who made you want to kill him—actually appeared in his dream.

Sirius grabbed his hair tightly, as if trying to pry his brains out to see if they were damaged.

What annoyed him even more was that his mutterings were overheard, and a sharp voice came from across the street: "A dream? Darling, were you dreaming?"

Sirius roared, "Shut up, Bella!"

"Hehehe—"

Bella, unfazed by Sirius's roar, continued her manic laughter echoing through the dark corridor. "Good cousin, tell me quickly, what kind of dream did you have? I haven't dreamt in a long time. I want to see Master in my dream."

"Go to hell, go ask your father!"

Sirius Black cursed him.

Bella laughed: "My father is your cousin, darling, how can you insult your own family and relatives?"

"Fuck your family, fuck your clan, damn Blake has no family, only a bunch of freaks, lunatics, trash, idiots—"

Sirius responded to Bella with the most vicious word he knew.

Bella just chuckled, and even when Sirius called her a "slut" and accused her of wanting to "lick the Dark Lord's feet" and "be the Dark Lord's bitch" in her dreams, she didn't care. Instead, her laughter became even more wanton.

Sirius was furious and turned his anger on the Lestrange brothers in the other cell, especially Bella's husband, Rodolphs.

"You stupid, cowardly old turtle, you should be glad that old pervert Voldemort died young, otherwise this slut might have had his child and you'd have to raise it someday—"

The surrounding cells naturally erupted in commotion.

Rodolphus angrily pounded on the iron bars of the window, but his anger was not because his master had cuckolded him, but because Sirius had insulted his master.

The same goes for everyone else.

A bunch of brain-dead idiots who can't understand a thing!

Sirius turned and lay back on the bed. Normally, he would never pay any attention to Bella, that slut, or the bunch of stupid Death Eaters around him.

He knew very well that talking to them was a waste of energy, and that if he made a big fuss, he might even attract Dementors to give each of them a Dementor kiss.

He was just very irritable today and couldn't help but want to swear.

The reason, of course, is a dream.

That awful nightmare about Kreacher.

It's so real.

In his dream, he returned to the old house of Phineas Black. The old house was not the same as when he ran away from home. Instead, it looked more dilapidated and was shrouded in white mist. He saw his mother's portrait and Phineas Black's portrait fighting and arguing. He saw the living room covered in dust.

Kreacher, covered in flabby skin, greeted him and called him "useless master."

At first, he did not notice anything unusual because he was in a dream. He did not even realize how rare it was for him, who had been tormented by Dementors for a long time.

He followed Kreacher in a daze, being led into the old house, listening to the man's constant cursing and grumbling: "It's truly lamentable that this noble house, filled with pure-blood glory, has ended up in the hands of an incompetent and unfilial wretch like you. But Kreacher is just a little elf, what can he do?"

"Open your foolish eyes and look, you worthless master! Look at the legacy you're about to inherit! The radiance of pureblood glory shines on your vixen-infested forehead! Merlin must have been blind—Waaah—Young Master Regulus was clearly far superior. Why did such a noble man die before a piece of trash like you? You were merely lying in the shadows, rotting away, and yet you secured the inheritance? How unfair!"

"If Mr. Weasley hadn't said that you should know and that you should see this, I really wouldn't want you to come in, not even in my dreams."

In a dream?

Weasley?

At that moment, Sirius suddenly realized something and stared wide-eyed at Kreacher.

Kreacher in the "dream" also noticed the change in his expression and said disdainfully, "Oh, it seems that Kreacher's incompetent master has finally realized something. Yes, this is a dream, but it is also reality."

"Dream? Reality?"

"Still haven't figured it out? A piece of trash is a piece of trash. Kreacher knew it all along, your brain must have been sucked dry by the Dementors—" Kreacher cursed, then suddenly stopped, and as if he had heard something, he bowed respectfully to the surrounding white mist, his huge nose almost touching the ground: "I'm sorry, Master Vaughn, Kreacher will do as you command immediately—"

Having said that, the old man finally stopped cursing, but still held his head high, trying to look down on him: "Young Master Vaughn brought Kreacher back to find Young Master Regulus, who is now buried in the family cemetery. Young Master Vaughn also reported the news of Young Master Regulus's confirmed death to the Ministry of Magic and asked Director Burns of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to confirm your inheritance rights. Alas—the Black family is yours now, how unfortunate—"

Sirius didn't care about inheritance rights.

He found it all absurd.

Vaughn Weasley?

Regulus?

What the hell!

He wasn't unfamiliar with the two names. Although it was in his dream, he had met the former just a few months ago, and the latter was his own younger brother, so he could still tell them apart.

He simply couldn't understand why his dream had linked these two people together.

Of course, I am awake at this moment, recalling the scenes from my dream.

The image of following Kreacher in a daze, being led to the family cemetery, and watching a brand-new coffin being lowered into a grave, the words engraved on the tombstone, remains vividly in my mind even after I wake up:

Regulus Arcturus Black

【1961—1979】

A naive and blindly obedient young wizard, who was once led astray by his naivety, but when he saw the truth, he held fast to his inner kindness and integrity, and used his life to thwart the Dark Lord's conspiracy. In the end, he was a hero.

hero----

This is what Sirius found most absurd about the dream.

It's ridiculous, Regulus. His own foolish and stupid son, the "pure Black" in his parents' mouths, the brother who followed the Dark Lord for the so-called pure-blood ideal, is actually a hero?

Normally, he should forget about such an absurd thing as soon as possible.

But the reality is that he is troubled—

Beside the graveyard in his dream, Kreacher sobbed as he recounted in detail how, thirteen years ago, he was taken by the Dark Lord to a cave on the southwest coast of Ireland, and how Regulus, having discovered the Dark Lord's secret, resolutely took him there again, sacrificing his own life to reveal what the Dark Lord had hidden.

Kreacher's low, hoarse sobs echoed in his mind: "Young Master Regulus saved Kreacher, and Young Master Vaughn said he saved many others as well. He let Kreacher take away the Dark Lord's evil things, but he himself died in that cold cave, unknown and forgotten."

"Waaaaah, he lay at the bottom of the lake for thirteen years and was even turned into an Infernal. It's all that useless Kreacher's fault—thankfully, young master Vaughn took him home."

"Master Vaughn said that the matter of Master Regulus cannot be told to outsiders right now because the Dark Lord is still alive, but he thinks you should be told because you are Master Regulus's brother—humph, the brother who hides in Azkaban and hasn't done anything for Master Regulus—"

1

In fact, after waking up, Sirius already knew that what he had been dreaming was not a dream.

It was more like some kind of dream-entering magic.

He was just—very confused.

He didn't know whether he should believe everything in the "dream," since Kreacher's account of his experiences completely contradicted his knowledge and impression of his brother Regulus.

But let's look at it from another angle.

He ran away from the Black family when he was 16; Regulus was only 14 at the time.

Did he really understand his brother? Did he ever think about what kind of environment Regulus would face if he were all alone after he left?

No----

Sirius stared blankly at the darkness above him. The dense blackness seemed to writhe and twist in his vision like a monster. Although he knew it was just an illusion caused by staring for too long, he still felt dizzy and his heart clenched with pain.

He knew that he had actually believed Bella when he cursed her earlier.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have lost control like that, and wouldn't have gone to such lengths to pick fights.

It wouldn't feel so bad!

The scene from the "dream" flashed before his eyes: the moment Regulus was buried, his coffin half-open, and in the glow of the morning light, he saw Regulus's young and pale face with his eyes peacefully closed, as if he were asleep.

But Kreacher said that "Master Vaughn" went to great lengths to remove the necromancy spell from Regulus, keeping the Dark Lord's curse away from his body and bringing peace to his husk.

"The magic hollowed out the young master—the puppets don't need internal organs, and it's been too long, thirteen years, they've all dissolved into the lake—Young Master Vaughn managed to restore some parts, but that's all he could do. After the curse was lifted, the young master's body quickly became waxy (subcutaneous fat saponification, a common change in corpses immersed in water), it's too brittle, it can't withstand too much magic, and we still have to try our best to restore his remains—"

Kreacher's sorrowful narration drilled through Sirius's mind like a drill.