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Grimmauld Place - July 1992
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The green flames of the repainted and refurbished Floo fireplace burst to life, and a moment later, Lord Grey stepped out, casually dusting soot from his shoulder as his boots tapped against the wooden floor.
"Hello there." He greeted the room's occupants with an easy-going smile as they patiently stood a few feet from the Floo, though there was something in the way he said it that implied he was referencing something. Behind him, Lord Flamel stepped through, followed closely by his wife, Perenelle, and Remus had never been happier that Sirius had made Kreacher help restore and paint the entire building to liven the place up.
"John!" Sirius grinned, pulling him into a friendly one-armed hug. "Good to see you." He turned to the couple who followed, utterly flabbergasted by their youth as he extended a hand to Nicholas. "And the famous Flamels… must say, you two look miles better than I do — and you're several times my age. Normally I would jokingly ask for your secret, but I think I'll hold off on that on this occasion."
They had all expected the married couple to look the same age as Dumbledore, so Sirius wasn't the only one who was flabbergasted by the ancient couple's youth. Harry and Remus were also astonished, with the older of the two even more so after using his more skilled magical ability to sense for a Glamour Charm, finding none.
The Alchemist's wife slightly narrowed her eyes, though her expression remained polite as she stepped forward to shake Sirius's hand. Her smile, however, didn't quite reach her eyes as she spoke. "Such a dangerous thing — speaking of a woman's age so callously. You wouldn't happen to be thinking something unseemly about our age now, would you?"
Sirius instantly raised both hands in mock surrender, grinning sheepishly. "No ma'am, nothing bad, I swear. You look… wonderful. Honestly, youthful elegance. Truly. I just look the opposite 'is all. Don't let my envy get to you."
Remus, shaking his head in amusement, stepped forward with a more diplomatic tone. "Can I take your coats, Lady and gentlemen?"
"Thank you," The Alchemist said with a nod, unfastening his cloak and handing it to Remus. Perenelle followed suit, murmuring her thanks.
The dragon Animagus, however, simply gave Remus a half-smile. "I'm good, thanks." He said, before his coat vanished the same way Harry had described.
Remus blinked. "Convenient," he murmured, before disappearing briefly to put the coats away, leaving the five to talk for a moment.
"You must be Harry," Perenell said, shaking the boy's hand with a grandmotherly smile. "It's good to meet you, darling. Master Grey has had good things to say about you."
Harry smiled in a manner that indicated he didn't quite know how best to respond to that comment, glancing at the Lord in question before replying. "Thank you, er, Lady Flamel. Erm, it's high praise from a person who did so well in school."
"Ah, none of that lad," Nicholas chimed with a small shake of his head, easily dispensing formalities as he stretched out a hand for the boy to shake. "First names will do just fine, especially in public if it looks like we're trying to stay under the radar."
"Understood, Nicolas sir," the boy nodded as he shook the old man's hand, causing the old married couple to smirk. However, the momentary glance at the boy's scarred forehead went unnoticed.
"So… shall we?" Remus motioned for them to follow when he returned. "Dinner's all ready."
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The dining room was warm and cosy, with a long table covered in plated dishes under enchanted bowls, each designed to keep the food warm and fresh. As everyone moved to take their seats, Nicholas, being a gentleman, pulled out a chair for Perenelle, who accepted it with a small, knowing smile before sitting gracefully.
Sirius, in the Lord's seat, twirled his wand with a flick, and the enchanted domes lifted away from the dishes and filled the air with the rich scent of roasted meat, spiced vegetables, and warm bread before gliding back toward the kitchen, stacking themselves neatly just before vanishing out of sight.
"Dig in," Sirius announced with a grin. "The Black family House Elf may have a foul attitude — but he still cooks like a house elf possessed. Though I will admit, we got some food elsewhere as backup, in case he was so blinded by my family's beliefs."
"Yeah, I heard about him from Harry," Johnathan shared a look with the boy in question as they both lightly chuckled. "He seems to have an… interesting personality."
Sirius snorted as he started on his food with an exasperated mutter. "That's one way to put it."
Johnathan, Nicolas, Perenelle, Remus, and Harry joined in, filling the room with the clinking of cutlery and soft chatter as plates were passed around and each person took their servings. Meanwhile, in the dark, dusty shadows of an upper-floor room, Kreacher crouched near an old trunk, carefully lifting the lid of a dusty black box hidden beneath threadbare linens with his gnarled fingers.
Inside lay a shining, burnished gold necklace with a serpent-etched locket, set against an emerald-green background.
Kreacher's eyes gleamed with a feverish devotion as he whispered, "Soon, Kreacher will complete his master's bidding… " He held it gently in his hands as his breath ragged. "Soon, Kreacher will make things right."
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As the plates emptied and the last bites were taken, Sirius, leaning back in his chair and swirling the remnants of ginger beer in his glass, gave Nicolas and Perenelle a once-over, resting his gaze pointedly on their butler and secretary-style attire. "So," he said, arching an eyebrow, "I've been meaning to ask — what's with the whole… professional ensemble? Is this a French thing, or is everyone else severely underdressed or something?"
Nicolas sat straighter, puffing his chest out with a trace of pride. "We've recently taken employment under Master Grey, of course," he said, nodding toward the Lord in question and ignoring the boy's resigned sigh. "Payment in exchange for learning advanced potions and alchemy."
Sirius blinked.
From across the table, Remus furrowed his brow, casting the boy a bewildered look. "Wait — aren't you supposed to be the one learning from them, not the other way around?"
With a bemused expression, Perenelle gave the werewolf a shrug. "It started that way," she admitted. "But then we realised… we had nothing left to teach him. Such a sad reality for an educator after meeting a receptive student — the realisation even brought a tear to our eyes." With a small shake of her head, she added with a smirk, "But, now we're the students."
That earned a long, quiet moment of staring from Sirius, Remus, and Harry — each of them clearly re-evaluating the already strange boy in their mind. Johnathan, for his part, just shrugged nonchalantly, lifting his glass of water. "Well, in fairness, I am a Ravenclaw." He said, before glancing at the boy-who-lived. "Speaking of Ravenclaw, how was the rest of your school year?"
Harry, still looking at his friend as if he'd grown a second head, blinked himself back to the conversation. Shaking his head in mild amusement as he leaned forward. "It was actually great — learning Defence from different teachers who didn't smell like garlic was a large improvement. Aside from that, we finally started doing more practical lessons in Defense which was pretty cool." He said, before adding. "Also, Gryffindor won the House Cup."
The dragon Animagus' eyes narrowed playfully as he kissed his teeth at the comment. "Maybe I should've stayed. That cup would have been in the bag for Ravenclaw."
Harry immediately pointed a fork at him with a playful smile. "No take backs."
"Speaking of your brilliance," Sirius said, "was it even difficult for you to figure out how to heal the Maledictus curse? Congrats on that again by the way."
Johnathan gave a thoughtful shrug. "Easy for me, maybe," he admitted. "But for most others? It'd be almost impossible without a good framework and out-of-the-box thinking, so I guess my definition of 'difficult' is skewed." He finished his drink, and then leaned back. "Anyway, if everyone's ready, I can take a look at the scar now. You mentioned in your letter that 'if anyone knows how to remove it harmlessly, it would be me'."
Sirius nodded quickly with a focused expression. "Dumbledore mentioned you had done something like this before. Do you need anything to get started? Ritual circle or ingredients? We have both in the Ritual room."
Johnathan shook his head. "That won't be necessary, I'll be able to get rid of it without any of that." He said, making his way to his feet and moving to the seat where Harry sat. "It'll only take a few seconds. But the last time I put it in a bottle, the bottle went missing. So this time I'll be destroying it outright. Hopefully, that won't be a problem."
"Not a problem at all," The Lord of House Black said, somewhat relieved. "As long as my godson is OK, that's what matters."
The young man in question exchanged a glance with Sirius, who gave him a subtle nod of encouragement. Harry pushed his chair back slightly, tilting his head and lifting his hair just enough to give Johnathan an unobstructed view of the infamous lightning bolt scar. Withdrawing his wand from his wrist holster, Lord Grey pointed it directly at the scar that had been with the boy since childhood, channelling enough magic for the entire room's inhabitants to feel without even trying.
Soon enough, a thin stream of darkness began to writhe out of the scar, twisting like sentient smoke. It moved sluggishly at first, resisting, but the grownups in the room could feel Johnathan's magic pulling at it relentlessly. The soul, black and with a somewhat muted scream, began to emerge. But, unlike the Lord of House Black and his werewolf friend, the Flamel couple didn't sit idle and gawk at the spectacle. They had their wands out, focused, checking on the boy-who-lived's soul and the method of Horcrux destruction.
While they weren't able to fully comprehend how the new young lord was extracting the soul piece in the scar, they could see it was working perfectly, with not even a scratch being left on young Potter's soul. The sheer control of magic and meticulous care alone made sure Grey's patient didn't even recognise the tendrils or dark-wrongness being un tethered until he saw the black mass in front of him.
As the piece of Voldemort's soul fully exited Harry's body, hovering in the air like a shrieking wound, Lord Grey clenched his free hand with a somewhat bored expression, and his magic surged. The containment field used to contain the soul became more visible, contracting in on itself. The soul continued to silently scream, writhing in agony as its form twisted violently and most of the room's inhabitants could feel it being dismantled, cell by cell, layer by layer. There was no mercy in his technique — only precision and finality. It trembled, distorted, desperate to escape, but Johnathan's magic was too refined, too complete.
With a final wail of torment, the soul disintegrated into nothing, and silence returned.
"It's done," Johnathan said simply, lowered his wand and turned away without flair or ceremony, returning to his seat and taking a sip of his glass of water.
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Johnathan Grey
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[Destroyed another one of Tom Riddle's Horcruxes: + 30,000 SP]
Good, just the locket and the diary left to go now.
Sirius leaned forward, scanning Harry for any sign of pain or distress, with his stiffness bleeding out of him the more he saw nothing wrong. "That's it?" he asked in disbelief, still fussing over the green-eyed boy. "Just like that?"
From his seat, Nicolas was still pointing his own wand at the scar, waving it in intricate patterns in Harry's direction, furrowing his brows in concentration. After a moment, he nodded. "It appears to have worked as well as one could possibly hope, not a single complication that I could find. The scar is no longer a tether, and the boy is completely fine."
Sirius gave the Alchemist a glance before he turned back to Harry. "Are you alright?"
Harry, touching his forehead, blinked. "Yeah… I feel fine. Doesn't feel any different, honestly. How does it look?"
Sirius let out a relieved sigh, then broke into a crooked smile. "Thank Merlin. It looks fine…" he said, taking a closer look at the scar for a moment. "Smaller, though."
Perenelle conjured a mirror and levitated it to the boy for him to see his reflection, and the boy did just that. Lifting his hair and bringing the mirror up closer to his face, he tilted his head from side to side, seeing the now barely noticeable scar exactly where it used to be, but now so small it looked more like a scratch rather than a pronounced etching.
Both Sirius and Harry looked toward me with gratitude. "Thank you," they said in near unison, before Sirius added with sincerity, "If there's anything you ever need, all you have to do is ask."
I lightly shook my head as I gave the man a half smile. "I would've done that for a friend anyway. Besides, you already offered me access to the Black Library last time, remember? For a Ravenclaw like myself, that's more than enough."
"Hahaha!" Sirius barked a laugh. "Of course! And I had Kreacher copy every book onto blank books for you too, just in case—"
"I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that the elf is not fond of you, the feeling being mutual, and wanting to get rid of him," Remus commented with a smirk poorly hidden behind his goblet, earning a playful glare from his close friend.
Ah yes, the best way to kill a House Elf that may or may not be trying to kill you by finding loopholes in their orders was probably to give them work that could get them killed. Though, I would have just introduced him to [Force Lightning], it seemed to work for the Sith.
"Anyway," Sirius continued, turning back to me. "No cursed surprises before you truly start reading or get halfway through a book. Though, you can still visit the Library," he glanced at Harry's now faded scar. "I can see my worries of curses being an obstacle were clearly unwarranted. Kreacher!"
Speak of the short, bad tempered, long-eared devil, and he shall appear.
With a muted crack, the old house-elf appeared, hunched and muttering as he glanced at the Flamel's and I. No one seemed to notice the faint green shimmer of Slytherin's locket dangling from a tarnished chain at first, too focused on Harry's wellbeing.
"Go get the briefcase from the library," Sirius said, absentmindedly waving toward the door. "The one with the copied books for Lord Grey."
For a moment, Kreacher's large eyes flicked toward me, narrowing ever so slightly. But the old, grumpy-looking elf gave a dutiful bow. "As the traitor master commands…" he grumbled. Then, with a pop, he vanished, only to return a heartbeat later, holding a well-maintained, enchanted black leather briefcase in his hands.
"I have brought the briefcase as tasked," Kreacher said, stepping forward and offering it.
"Give it to John, Kreacher," Sirius instructed casually.
Unlike I would have thought, considering my blood status, Kreacher actually looked pleased to do so, even momentarily discarding the usual hatred he reserved for Sirius. His gnarled feet padded across the floor, propping up the locket on top of the briefcase in a way that would make it obvious as he handed it ot me.
"Appreciated, Kreacher." I accepted it with a nod while making a show of narrowing my eyes at he emerald glint hanging from the elf's neck, noticing the Flamels noticing the object in my peripheral vision too. "Say, Kreacher, you mind telling me where you got that locket?"
Kreacher froze with a sudden, more hopeful gleam in his weary old eyes, clutching the locket as a grin started making its way onto his face. It was… honestly reminding me of Golem the way he was holding it, all he was missing was the phrase, 'my precious'. And it wasn't even anything to do with the locket influencing his mind, I briefly checked as I took the briefcase. No, it was just pure obsession and devotion. It made me wonder if that was how people saw Poppy when she talks about me.
"Master Regulus…" the elf started reverently, barely above a whisper. "He told Kreacher to destroy it. But Kreacher couldn't… Kreacher tried. It was… it was too strong…" His lip trembled. "But if the Dragon Lord or the Master Flamel can destroy it — then Kreacher will finally… finally complete the order…"
Sirius stood up so quickly that his chair scraped back across the floor. "What?! Explain yourself!" He barked, striding over. "What do you mean 'Regulus told you to destroy it'? What is that thing?! And why the bloody hell did you not tell me of this, huh?!"
Kreacher grimaced, visibly restraining himself, clearly disliking having to obey Sirius. But an order was an order. He hunched lower as he recounted the tale. "Master Regulus found out what the snake Dark Lord was doing… said he had secrets… things tied to his soul…" Kreacher's voice shook with grief as he spoke. "The great Master took Kreacher to cave, the great Master had to drink potion to pass defence for Locket, just like snake Lord made Kreacher do once… and then dead men came from the water."
The room went deathly silent as everyone listened with rapt attention. While I already knew most of this, I decided to let the Elf have his moment, silently listening with the rest of them.
"Master Regulus told Kreacher to take the locket and go… told Kreacher to leave him… said he would hold, distract, but… but… Master Regulus never came out." Kreacher was weeping now, clutching the locket tightly. "Kreacher has kept it ever since…Kreacher has tried and tried…. but Kreacher could never break it…"
No one spoke for a few moments, letting the information settle in. Even Sirius, who had spent most of his life resenting Kreacher, now looked at the elf with a haunted expression, probably thinking of how almost everyone, himself included, thought Regulus died being a loyal supporter of old snake face.
A silence stretched, until finally, I stood from my seat, placed the briefcase on the side and lowered myself to one knee, eye level with the elf. "If you want, Kreacher, I can destroy it now for you," I said gently, before casually pointing to the boy in question. "It feels almost exactly like Harry's scar over there, so it'll be simple enough. Then we can go to this cave you spoke of and retrieve his body?"
Kreacher looked up at me, tearful, but there was hope in his voice. "Please…" he whispered, removing the locket and handing it to me. "Please, dragon master sir. Kreacher would be forever grateful for the great service to the great Master Regulus."
I looked to Sirius, who, despite the furious expression he failed to suppress, gave a short, silent nod. Turning back to the elf, I stood and lifted my wand once more. The soul shard within the locket, much like its brethren, reacted violently as soon as my magic began to swirl. As I had done with Harry's scar, I pulled the soul from the locket, watching it twist, writhe and shriek in silence, but I was unrelenting. Within moments, the dark fragment of Voldemort's soul was obliterated, reduced to dust.
[Destroyed another one of Tom Riddle's Horcruxes: + 35,000 SP]
The locket, now quiet and empty, was gently levitated onto my hand with a casual use of [Telekinesis]. "Well, it's done," I said, before placing the locket carefully into Kreacher's trembling palms. "The snake's magic is gone from the object, completely destroyed."
As the now seemingly mute elf stared at it with watery eyes, I summoned one of my old Dragon Silver Daggers from the [Hoard], presenting it to him. "If you'd like to be sure," I offered, "you can test it."
Kreacher's eyes widened. With almost sacred care, he took the dagger from my extended hand, unceremoniously placed the locket on the floor, and with glee, stabbed downward. Like one would expect from a blade of its kind, it pierced the locket's surface effortlessly.
For a long moment, Kreacher simply stared in shock — then, his whole body shook with joy."I did it!" he shouted in a tone I didn't think one as grumpy as him would be capable of. "Kreacher has done it! Kreacher has completed Master Regulus' task!" He began to hop around the room, clutching the locket to his chest with tears streaming down his withered face. "I did it… I did it… The great Regulus' wish… it is finally done…"
Then, almost collapsing, he fell to his knees, weeping openly as he cradled the now-soulless locket to his heart, muttering repeatedly through his sobs. Thankfully — for every other person in the room who just witnessed elf balls through his pillowcase, flopping all over the place as he was jumping — he stayed down.
Sirius, watching this with a clear storm of emotion in his eyes, was clenching his fists where he stood. "Take me to the cave." His voice dropped into a growl. "The one you mentioned Regulus di-" He paused for a moment, centering himself with a breath, "-was left in. Now."
Before Kreacher could respond, Remus stood with a serious expression. "I'm coming with you — we do this together," he said firmly. "From what he mentioned, 'dead men', there are clearly Inferi there and there's no telling what other traps and 'defences' we might be aware of."
Seeing that I was already standing, I might as well tag along. "I'll need to come along as well. There might be another Horcrux there."
While I knew that was highly unlikely, I needed to make sure the emotional Marauder duo didn't do something that would get themselves killed.
At my comment, I caught Nicolas and Perenelle exchanging a look in my peripheral vision before the Alchemist spoke. "Then we will accompany you too, Master Grey", he said smugly as he puffed out his chest and nodded sagely while ignoring my groan. "It is only right that we assist our Lord, should he require aid."
Perenelle gave a graceful nod of agreement before turning to the now standing and attentive elf. "It would also be proper, I think, that Master Grey's dagger be returned."
Kreacher, suddenly aware of the blade still on the floor, gasped. "Oh! Kreacher is sorry!" he exclaimed, carefully picking t up before giving me a low bow as he presented it back to me. "Thank you, Dragon Master sir!"
I took it with a quiet nod, returning it to his inventory just as Harry spoke up. "If you're all going… then I'm coming too."
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"Of course Master. Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black."
—Kreacher
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Hello There
2 Horcruxes in one chapter.
Only one remaining until it just devolves into a hunt for the Snake himself, provided he hasn't gotten around to creating another.
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