Chapter 270: Scars and The Locket
Aiden's grin sharpened. "War maniac? I rather like the sound of that."
"The Ministry's conservative faction is using every means to suppress any wizard who dares claim the Dark Lord has returned," Sirius said, raising his orange juice.
Aiden was still voraciously eating Mrs. Weasley's steak, while Harry looked very confused.
"Why?"
"Because those fools think Dumbledore wants to seize power." Aiden decided it was time to show Harry how the adult world really worked.
He looked up and exhaled a dreamscape toward the ceiling, and images began to appear.
"Fudge's rise to power, apart from the political situation at the time, depended entirely on Dumbledore's reputation. He made people believe he was appointed by Dumbledore to serve as Minister of Magic."
The image flickered, showing Fudge standing on a high platform waving to the crowds supporting him below.
"But this source of political status is very unstable. To win re-election, Fudge, who had no political achievements, could only choose to merge with the conservative forces within the Ministry."
The scene changed to show Fudge extending his hand with a seal, while a black hand reached out with a money pouch, the two hands gripping tightly together.
"So the entire conservative force of the Ministry has been consolidated, and those purebloods' ambitions are burning fiercely again after the Dark Lord's return."
The ceiling image changed again to show a group of black-robed wizards kneeling at Voldemort's feet, with Riddle Manor in the background.
Harry frowned, seeing this scene.
"Yes, their entire faction believes that once Dumbledore takes power, he'll launch a purge against them and steal their positions," Lupin also spoke up.
Aiden waved his hand, dispersing the dreamscape on the ceiling.
"That's too stupid. No one thinks Dumbledore..." Harry said, his words being interrupted by Lupin.
"But they're afraid. Fear makes people's minds muddled. Our Minister will probably do everything he can to avoid the truth."
"We believe Voldemort may be planning to build an army again. Fourteen years ago, he had a massive army that included wizards and various dark creatures. But gathering followers is probably not the only thing he wants to do. We think he might be searching for something..." Sirius spoke up.
"Ahem." Aiden, Moody, Lupin, and Arthur all coughed simultaneously.
"You mean a weapon?" Harry asked, staring at him.
"Something he didn't have time to use last time," Sirius said quietly.
"Enough." Molly put down her dinner knife and ran over. "He's still a child! If you say any more, you'll be dragging him into the Order of the Phoenix!"
"No problem. I'll join. If Voldemort is assembling an army, I want to fight him too," Harry said, his eyes resolute.
"Seriously?" Aiden asked.
"Of course," Harry nodded.
Then Aiden tore off his robe, revealing a tiny wound on his chest.
Endless chaotic aura leaked out. Harry felt himself being watched by some terrifying predator.
Massive magical power surged through the room like a physical weight. Harry gasped, feeling as if invisible boulders were grinding him between them, the air becoming too thick to breathe.
His scar blazed with agony, and his soul felt torn between opposing forces.
The other young wizards winced and shifted uncomfortably. Mrs. Weasley, unable to bear watching the young wizard's distress, rushed over.
"Enough!" Molly said, giving Aiden a knock on the head.
Aiden pulled his robe back on, covering the wound again.
"What was that?" Harry gasped, slumping back in his chair as if the strength had drained from his body.
"The power Voldemort serves," Aiden said grimly. "What we must stand against."
Later that night, Grimmauld Place fell silent. Harry lay awake, staring at the ceiling of his borrowed room.
On the staircase, Aiden watched Kreacher's nightly routine, the ancient house-elf polishing portrait frames with obsessive care.
Kreacher stopped and looked at Aiden, who was observing him, and spoke:
"Prewett, those who betrayed glory. Why oppose the mysterious man? With your abilities, you could completely help him gain power. Isn't glory good?"
"Kreacher, that's enough!" Sirius emerged from the shadows, his face dark with familiar irritation.
"Wait." Aiden's calm voice stopped Sirius mid-stride. "Don't send him away just yet. I have questions for him."
"Questions for Kreacher?" Sirius's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he nodded slowly. "Alright, but I'm staying right here."
"Wastrel! The Black family treasures will not be handed over to outsiders!" Kreacher refused sternly.
"I need you to give me the thing that Regulus Arcturus Black ordered you to destroy," Aiden said with a knowing smile.
"What!" Sirius went rigid, his brother's name hitting him like a physical blow. His face drained of colour.
"You... how do you know?" Kreacher's voice rose to a shriek. "No! You're a Legilimens, just like the Dark Lord!"
Kreacher's screaming roused Sirius's mother's portrait, and her shrieking voice soon had the entire house in uproar.
"Aiden, what are you talking about?" Sirius seized Aiden's shoulders, his voice cracking. "My brother served Voldemort! He was a Death Eater!"
"Let Kreacher take us to get the thing first. Sirius, give him the order," Aiden said.
"Kreacher," Sirius commanded without hesitation, "I order you to give Aiden what he's asking for."
Kreacher reluctantly led the two to the kitchen and took out a locket from the cabinet.
With obvious anguish, Kreacher produced the locket while striking his head repeatedly against the cabinet door.
"It's Kreacher's fault for not completing Master Regulus's instructions. Wah wah wah," Kreacher wailed while banging.
"What is this?" Sirius said, reaching out and snatching the locket.
A vicious thought invaded his mind: Kill the Prewett. Take his dragon blood.
Sirius felt everything go dark before his eyes, and his right hand uncontrollably reached for his wand.
Aiden's hand shot out, covering Sirius's eyes. "Soothe," he commanded quietly.
The Sequence 3 level of soothing immediately freed Sirius from the strange state, and he directly threw the locket away.
"Hey, as someone from a pureblood family, don't you know you can't directly handle dark magical objects?" Aiden teased.
"Maybe that's why I'm different from them," Sirius muttered, still dazed from the Horcrux's influence.
Seeing Sirius's vulnerable state, Aiden abandoned his teasing and carefully approached the fallen locket.
The chaotic aura surrounding it paled compared to Aiden's wound, like a candle flame beside a roaring fire.
"What exactly is this?" Sirius asked.
"Voldemort's secret to immortality, a Horcrux," Aiden revealed the answer.
"Ha! So he hid his filthy secret in the Black family home. Typical of those Death Eaters..." Sirius's mocking tone died as understanding dawned on his face.
"Tell me why!" Sirius's voice cracked as he stared at Kreacher with reddened eyes. "Why would my brother try to destroy this thing?"
"The Dark Lord demanded Kreacher's life to protect this object. Master Regulus... he couldn't bear it... went in Kreacher's place instead."
Kreacher's head struck the cabinet repeatedly, each thud echoing his anguish and failure.
"Enough!" Sirius seized Kreacher's shoulders, stopping the self-harm. "I order you to tell me the whole truth about what happened to my brother."
What followed was the most painful story Sirius had ever heard and the most beautiful. His little brother, the Death Eater, had given his life to save a house-elf and strike back at the Dark Lord.