HP: Azkaban's Outstanding Graduate

Far from being discouraged, Sagles' eyes revealed a keen interest.

He stood there by the stone basin, lost in thought for a moment.

"It's not a physical separation, but a conceptual 'rejection.' It distorts the rules of space within this bowl of liquid. Unless you drink it, you'll never be able to get it?"

Harry and Sirius watched with bated breath.

"Let me drink it!"

Sirius stepped forward and said decisively, "If what Kreacher said is true, then drinking this stuff won't really kill you."

Sagres did not respond; he continued to stare silently at the pot of venom.

Harry's heart suddenly clenched. "No! Let me do it!"

He urgently stood in front of Sirius, not wanting Sirius to drink this stuff, but if someone had to drink it, he would rather it be himself.

Sirius was about to retort when Sagrais raised his hand to stop him.

"Please calm down, gentlemen."

His gaze finally left the basin of liquid, and then he said to the two of them with a half-smile:

"Voldemort may have set a test, but that doesn't mean we have to obediently follow his line of reasoning to solve it."

“Besides,” he changed his tone, reminding the two, “have you forgotten? The locket lying underneath is a fake.”

Sirius and Harry realized what was happening and were a little embarrassed, but Sagrais didn't let them off the hook and instead offered serious advice:

"Of course, if you are really thirsty, I also have some Muggle drinks to choose from."

"I think we don't need to..."

"I'm not that thirsty..."

The two responded awkwardly.

Sagres smiled, then pointed to the pot of venom and said to them:

"Drinking the poison would play right into Voldemort's hands. He enjoys the process of manipulating people's minds and forcing them to suffer. But let's look at it from a different perspective."

He paused briefly, as if organizing his thoughts or preparing his words.

"For example, since this magic rejects all 'external' means of acquisition, can we work from the inside and make it 'spit out' things on its own?"

Seeing the puzzled expressions on their faces, Sagres did not explain, nor did he try to reach for it with his hands again. Instead, he raised his wand and aimed it steadily at the center of the stone basin.

A powerful surge of magic instantly poured out, enveloping the entire stone basin.

The basin trembled slightly, and the liquid inside seemed to come alive, quickly converging and bulging towards the center.

In the blink of an eye, a tiny, entirely emerald-green figure stood up from the surface of the liquid.

It raised its head, "looked" at Sagras with its faceless features, and then plunged headfirst back into the thick venom without hesitation.

The little green figure disappeared, and the next moment, the fake locket seemed to be lifted up by an invisible and steady hand, rising slowly and steadily from the depths of the venom, gradually floating to the surface.

A moment later, the little green figure emerged from the surface of the liquid again, respectfully holding the locket in both hands and offering it to Sagres.

The gold chain dangled down, and the few drops of medicine that clung to the box quickly slid off without leaving a trace, as if it had never been stained by the liquid.

Sagres reached out and took the cold locket from the little green figure. Immediately after he took the locket, the figure merged into the stone basin, returning to its original form.

He sensed the faint magical fluctuations remaining on the locket, as well as an unsettling, chilling aura—the dark stench that had accumulated from being soaked in potions for so long, even as a counterfeit.

Without the slightest hesitation, Sagres pressed his thumb against the emerald-encrusted clasp.

Click.

The mechanism made a crisp sound, and the locket popped open.

There were no howls of evil spirits or terrifying sights; inside the box lay a neatly folded, yellowed piece of paper.

Sagres picked up the slip of paper and unfolded it. Harry and Sirius joined in. The handwriting on the paper was neat and sharp, as if every stroke had taken all the courage of the writer:

To the Dark Lord:

By the time you read this letter, I will be long dead, but I must tell you: I have discovered your secret and taken the real Horcrux, intending to destroy it as soon as possible.

I'm willing to risk my life just so that when you meet your destined opponent, you'll be nothing more than a mortal with flesh and blood.

RAB

The cave was deathly silent, with only the restless movement of the lake water.

Harry and Sirius stared breathlessly at the small note, as if they could see through it how a brave soul rebelled against everything he once believed in and ultimately paid for it with his life.

Sagles stared silently at the signature—RAB, Regulus Arcturus Black.

He folded the note back, put it back in the pendant box, and then snapped the lid shut.

He turned around and his gaze fell on the house-elf who was almost curled up in a ball to the side.

Kreacher stared wide-eyed, his tennis ball-sized eyes brimming with tears, intently at the metal box that had cost its owner his life.

“Kreacher,” Sagles’s voice was calm, yet it made Kreacher tremble involuntarily.

"This is your master's spoils of war, his medal and proof of his resistance against the Dark Lord. Take it, and I hope you will keep it safe."

He gently placed the cold locket in the house-elf's trembling palm.

Kreacher's withered fingers clenched tightly together, clutching the locket to his chest as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.

Large, murky tears rolled down his cheeks and landed on the cold rocks.

He didn't cry out, but sobbed silently as he bowed deeply, deeply to Sagres.

Sagres did not respond. He turned and gazed at the black lake that concealed countless tormented souls, then slowly raised his wand.

The next moment, a deep and majestic incantation came from his mouth.

The syllables were cold and malevolent, as if they came from hell, mixed with the chilling power to control the dead, making one's scalp tingle.

"Undead March!"

The moment the incantation was cast, the still lake surface suddenly boiled!

Countless pale, swollen, and hollow-eyed corpses broke through the water's surface. They did not frantically pounce on the living, but rather, like soldiers being inspected, they silently emerged from the black lake with stiff and orderly steps, eventually standing densely on the calm lake surface, creating a very eerie scene!

Harry and Sirius were completely stunned; the horrifying scene before them was beyond their comprehension of magic.

In this silent army of the undead, several undead carried a young body across the calm lake, gently carrying it to the shore, and finally laying it softly on the rocks.

Although the pale face had been eroded by the lake water for a long time, the outline of Sirius Black could still be vaguely discerned.

"Young Master Regulus..."

Kreacher let out a painful cry and lunged forward.

Sirius also choked up, but he silently took off his coat and gently covered his brother's cold and soaking wet body, as if he wanted to preserve his last shred of dignity.

Sargeras's gaze swept over the silent undead army, his eyes showing no fear, only a cold scrutiny of Voldemort's methods and an undisguised contempt.

"Using hatred for the living to imprison a large number of undead as guards?"

He shook his head, his tone full of sarcasm, "Not only is it lacking in creativity, but it's also...too crude."

As soon as he finished speaking, he raised his wand without hesitation, and a burst of blazing pale flame immediately shot out from the tip of the wand.

"All tormented souls imprisoned here, your duty is over."

His voice was calm yet firm: "Rest in peace."

The flames, like a sacred tide, silently swept across the entire lake. All the standing corpses melted away the moment they were touched by the white flames, without even a trace of ash rising.

Countless pale fire crows danced and circled in the flames, completely dispelling the thick darkness that had lingered in the cave, and the chilling aura that permeated the air also dissipated.

In a short while, the entire cave became empty and "clean." The lake water was still dark, but it no longer harbored any murderous intent. All the corpses had been burned to ashes, as if they had never existed.

Sagrass put away his wand and said calmly, "It's over. Let's go back."

Chapter 279 The Real Slytherin

With a soft pop, the group carried Regulus's cold body back to number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Returning to the familiar surroundings, only the pale, silent corpse serves as a silent reminder that their experience in the cave was not a dream.

Sirius gently placed his brother's body on a makeshift table covered with black velvet, conjured by magic. His movements were gentler than ever before, his eyes swirling with complex and indescribable emotions.

Kreacher knelt not far away, his swollen eyes fixed on Regulus, his withered fingers clutching the fake locket tightly, as if it were his only solace.

He deserves a funeral.

Sirius's hoarse voice broke the silence. He looked at Sagrais, his tone more resolute than ever before, "A funeral worthy of what he did. He should no longer be forgotten as a stigmatized Death Eater. People should know why he died."

Sagras nodded slightly, his expression somewhat blurred in the dim light.

“This is an internal matter of the Black family, and it is your right as the elder brother. I have no objection to it.”

“Professor,” Sirius looked firmly at Sagrais, “you found him, you revealed the truth to us. This funeral… I would like you to preside over it, is that alright?”

Sagles remained silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.

"It's my pleasure."

Over the next few days, Sirius Black was immersed in a solemn and busy period.

He issued an obituary in the name of the Black family head, simply stating that Regulus Arcturus Black had heroically sacrificed himself many years ago in the fight against Voldemort, and that his body had only recently been recovered and that a private funeral would be held on a certain day.

On the day of the funeral, it was drizzling, as if the sky itself was weeping for a hero who arrived too late.

Sirius used magic to build a temporary auditorium in the cemetery.

Regulus lay peacefully among the flowers. The number of mourners far exceeded expectations.

Lupin was the first to arrive. He was wearing his best robe and silently embraced Sirius, his eyes filled with sadness and understanding.

The Weasleys arrived as well. Molly's eyes were filled with tears, which she kept wiping away with a handkerchief. Arthur squeezed Sirius's hand tightly and whispered, "What a remarkable child, such admirable courage."

Members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived one after another, including some long-time members such as Dedalo Dego and Ephias Dorji.

Even the Longbottoms came; Frank and Alice brought Neville, and they all looked at Regulus with respect.

The Malfoy family was also present, but it was unclear whether they were there out of courtesy between pure-blood families or because of their blood ties.