The Lost Locket
Sirius burst into the house with urgent steps, not even bothering to close the door behind him. His face was tense, and his eyes immediately locked onto the people in the room—Molly, Arthur, Bill, and several other Order members—all startled by his sudden arrival.
"Show me the letter," he demanded bluntly.
Bill, who had been holding it, handed it over without a word. Sirius unfolded it quickly. His eyes swept across the parchment with growing tension until they froze on the final signature:
"To the Dark Lord,
I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.
I stole the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.
Facing death, I hope that when you find this locket, you will realize your enemy was cleverer than you.
R.A.B."
Sirius stayed silent for a few seconds. Then he slowly lowered the letter, his face stony.
"That arrogant tone… that signature. There's no doubt," he said gravely. "It's my brother. Regulus."
"What? Your brother took the Horcrux?" Molly asked, stunned. "Where could he have hidden it?"
"There's only one creature who might know," Sirius muttered, turning his gaze toward a dark corner of the room. "Kreacher."
At once, with a faint crack, the old house-elf appeared—hunched over and glaring at the wizards with distrustful eyes.
"Was Master calling?" he growled, his expression full of disdain.
"You know the truth, don't you? What happened to Regulus?" Sirius asked, his voice cold and unwavering.
Kreacher blinked, clearly taken aback by the question.
"No... no, Kreacher knows nothing," he replied hastily, too hastily.
Sirius picked up the fake locket lying on the table and held it in front of him.
"I order you, Kreacher. Tell me what happened to my brother. And what became of the real locket."
Bill, who had been standing nearby, stepped in urgently. "Where is that Horcrux now?"
"Blood traitor Weasley!" Kreacher spat at the sound of his voice. But Sirius's icy glare silenced him instantly.
"Answer, Kreacher," Sirius repeated, his tone cutting through the air like a blade.
The elf lowered his head, trembling slightly.
"I don't know where it is now. But… it was here. The darkest, most wicked object that ever tainted this house. Master Regulus ordered me to destroy it before he died… but Kreacher failed. No matter how hard I tried… I couldn't."
"And if you don't know where it is now—who took it?" Sirius pressed.
Kreacher swallowed hard. His voice dropped to a whisper.
"It was… her. Mistress Bellatrix. She sent word through that traitor… demanded I give it to her. Said that if anyone asked about Master Sirius, I was to say I knew nothing. They took it."
The name brought a collective frown to every face in the room. Bellatrix Lestrange. Mad, fanatical, and now dead. If she had the locket… it might be lost forever. Or worse—in the hands of the Death Eaters.
"Tell me, Kreacher. What happened to Regulus?" Sirius asked again, more softly now.
Kreacher straightened slightly, eyes drifting toward a far-off memory.
"The Dark Lord needed a house-elf for a special task. Young Master Regulus, in his great wisdom, volunteered me… but he first ordered Kreacher to come back alive, no matter what happened."
His voice cracked as he continued, as if each word reopened an old wound.
"The master took me to a cave. The Dark Lord made Kreacher drink a potion. It was… horrible. It burned like fire inside. Kreacher begged for water. But the Dark Lord left… and I was alone… until I heard Master Regulus calling me. Kreacher returned."
No one spoke. All listened in silent awe.
"When Kreacher told him what happened… Master Regulus asked to be taken to the cave. He drank the potion himself. Ordered Kreacher to take the object… and flee. Kreacher… Kreacher saw him dragged into the lake by those creatures… and could do nothing…"
Tears began rolling down the elf's wrinkled cheeks.
"Kreacher… couldn't destroy it. He failed. He failed his last order…"
The room remained still. Only the faint sound of Kreacher's sobs broke the silence.
Sirius, with a hint of melancholy in his eyes, picked up the fake locket and handed it to the elf.
"It's alright. You may return to your duties. Keep it, if you wish. I'll… find the real one. For Regulus."
Kreacher looked up at him one last time… and vanished with a soft crack.
Sirius sat down slowly, resting a hand on his forehead as if the weight of that truth had cracked something deep inside him.
"What do we do now?" Molly asked quietly.
Mad-Eye Moody, who had remained silent all this time, finally spoke, arms crossed and tone sharp.
"Dumbledore's already tracked down two Horcruxes: the Gaunt family ring and Hufflepuff's cup. The cup was in the Lestrange vault… caused a bit of trouble with the goblins. They only found the cup there."
"There's also the diary, destroyed by Potter in his second year. And the snake. Einar said it reeked of the same dark energy as the cup, so we assumed it was another Horcrux. The cup was destroyed in front of witnesses. The ring… Dumbledore still has it. Harry was another. But Einar dealt with that too. That leaves the locket. It might be the last one. Or… there could still be one more."
Bill nodded, deep in thought.
"You've all noticed it, haven't you? Out of the four Founders' artifacts, Voldemort had at least two. The ring was his family's—according to Dumbledore—and Harry was a mistake. But what about the Sword of Gryffindor? The lost Diadem of Ravenclaw?"
"The sword is in the Headmaster's office," confirmed Moody. "As for the diadem… no one knows where it is. It could be a lead."
"Then we need to start searching. But more urgently, we have to find the locket. If Voldemort's followers find it first… and pull off that cursed ritual again—"
Moody's face hardened.
"There'll be no doubt. The war will begin. And this time… there will be no turning back."
…
"This is completely useless. We've been investigating for weeks, and every time we reach a new meeting point, everyone's already gone before we even step inside," muttered Tonks with frustration, arms crossed as she stared at the floor full of faint footprints.
Cedric, crouched near a broken window, examined the marks with his wand. He was trying to stay focused, but the furrow on his brow made it clear he hadn't found anything useful.
Shacklebolt and other Aurors were moving methodically through the old mansion, checking every corner with trained eyes.
"Don't complain so much. Percy's doing the best he can. This week alone, he uncovered three more spies. If he hears you, he'll feel awful," Cedric said, still looking at the floor.
"I know. He has to screen every Ministry employee, run interviews, make judgments… It's exhausting, dull, overwhelming—and he's the only one who accepted the job. Still, I bet one or two slipped past him," sighed Tonks.
Cedric slowly stood up.
"Maybe we should go back to working on our own, like before. When we didn't rely on the Ministry, things ran better."
"You might be right… but the logistical and financial support from the Ministry is still helpful. Besides, once the truth came out, it was obvious they'd start being more cautious. Now they're obsessed with covering their tracks," said Shacklebolt as he exited a nearby room, his usual colorful robes billowing around him. "Did you find anything useful?"
"Footprints everywhere… but they used Apparition a while ago. The trail's cold," Cedric answered, shaking his head.
"At least do we know who was hiding here?"
"Yeah. I recorded Goyle's face… and Flint's corpse," Cedric replied seriously.
"More corpses? What is this, are we going to end up fighting an army of zombies or something?" Tonks said, wrinkling her nose.
Cedric froze for a moment. Then, suddenly, his expression changed.
"That's it," he muttered, eyes going wide.
"Wait—you do want a zombie war?" Tonks asked, confused.
"No, you idiot. This mansion is less than a hundred meters from a cemetery. Where were the previous meeting points located?"
Shacklebolt's eyes widened in realization.
"Yes… yes, that's right. Every location had a cemetery nearby. How the hell did we miss that?" he said before sprinting out of the mansion. Cedric followed immediately, and Tonks—now beginning to understand—ran after them.
When they reached the cemetery, Shacklebolt raised his wand without hesitation. One by one, the coffins began to rise from the ground with a low creaking sound… and opened.
Every single one was empty.
"They're stealing bodies," Shacklebolt said grimly. "We need to go back. Tonks, alert the Order. I'll speak with Amelia. This… we handle ourselves. We can't let the spies catch wind of this."
With a swift wave of his wand, he returned the coffins to the ground and restored the soil. In seconds, all three of them Disapparated with a soft pop.
…
"Are you serious?" asked Molly, somewhere between shock and fury.
"Bloody bastards," growled Moody, slamming a hand on the table. "I thought they'd just used the corpses for that trap. We were so naïve…"
"Are they seriously building an army of corpses?" Bill asked, both disgusted and alarmed.
"And apparently… of werewolves and vampires as well," said Sirius darkly. "Lupin got confirmation. And it's not just a rumor."
"The werewolves I can believe—especially Fenrir and his pack. But vampires?" Arthur asked, frowning.
"Their leader was killed recently. The new one's a fool with a thirst for power. He wants to use the chaos to expand his numbers… or hit the wizarding world while it's vulnerable," Frank explained, grim.
"According to Hagrid, the giants have also vanished. It's likely they've been recruited as well," Moody added. "We can't allow Voldemort to return. But while we work to prevent that… we must prepare. If they're building an army, so must we."
"What about the kids? They'll be coming home soon. If war breaks out, I want them at Hogwarts—at least there, Einar can protect them," said Molly, her voice shaking slightly.
"Don't worry. There's already a plan in motion," said Sirius, glancing toward the fireplace. "A safe zone will be created within Hogwarts… and Einar will protect it. Alone."
Everyone fell silent.
"We know he's strong… but maybe we should send backup. If they're all going to be gathered there, it's obvious they'll try to attack," Arthur said cautiously.
"No need," said an unexpected voice as a figure stepped out of the fireplace, cloaked in green ash.
Charlie Weasley smiled, brushing dust off his robes.
"We already brought the only help he said he needed."
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Molly rushed to embrace him, relief and joy written all over her face.
"Were you seriously just waiting in Romania for the perfect dramatic entrance?" Tonks asked, smirking.
"Something like that," Charlie replied with a grin, as everyone began gathering around him—surprised, but glad he was back.