Jane Yu never expected that even a small locket could pull off a trick as cunning as a switcheroo.
She examined the locket in her hand—it was about the size of an egg, adorned with an "S" identical to the one on the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, formed by several small emeralds.
The moment she held it, she knew this was the real locket. Inside, it contained a fragment of a soul, pulsating like a tiny heartbeat.
It tried to influence her emotions, attempting to make her feel fear and irritation... to eventually control her... When that failed... it intensified its efforts...
At the same time, Voldemort's soul fragment stealthily gnawed at her, causing an unbearable itch on her skin.
This thoroughly annoyed Jane.
"Is it your emotions that you think you can manipulate me with? Is it your soul that you dare to take a bite out of me?"
She imagined the noseless, bald freak clinging to her, muttering, "Fellow housemate, you smell delightful"—
Her stomach churned, and she felt the urge to vomit.
Fury surged within her. She controlled her Obscurial to envelop the locket, deciding to return the favor in kind.
Fear? Fine, let's see who can scare whom!
The locket began to tremble, its golden chain curling up into a quivering ball, adopting a pitiful and helpless posture in her palm.
It dared not move a muscle, and the soul fragment retreated, becoming docile.
Jane was satisfied with this outcome.
"Why do you say this is Regulus's locket?" she asked the house-elf.
Kreacher sobbed, tears streaming down his face like small rivers, and then she heard a story of rebellion against Voldemort.
"The young master ordered Kreacher to take him to the cave... He swapped the Dark Lord's locket... He drank the potion... Kreacher watched as he..."
"Kreacher tried everything but couldn't destroy it... The mistress went mad with grief... Kreacher couldn't tell her what happened..."
"Master Regulus forbade—he forbade Kreacher from speaking to the family—about the cave—"
The elf collapsed to the ground, letting out a wail of anguish. Then, grabbing a poker, it aimed it at its own head.
Jane stopped him just in time from bashing his own skull.
She had already caught the loophole in Kreacher's words.
House-elves cannot disobey their master's orders. Kreacher indeed couldn't tell anyone with the Black surname—
But he could tell her.
Which meant she could tell others.
"If you don't mind, I will tell them about Regulus."
"As for his last wish... this locket, we will take care of it."
Kreacher hesitantly and excitedly raised his head, beginning to calculate the rules of house-elf servitude, muttering:
"Master Regulus ordered Kreacher not to tell the family—Miss is not family—Kreacher did not disobey—"
"Miss tells the family about Master Regulus—Miss is not Kreacher—Kreacher did not disobey—"
The logic checked out.
It let out an excited shriek, its knees buckling as it bowed so low its head almost touched the ground:
"A kind Miss! She is willing to help Kreacher fulfill Master Regulus's orders!"
"She can destroy the locket! Kreacher doesn't know how to thank her enough!"
...
Meanwhile, Dumbledore was having a hard time.
As the universally acknowledged greatest white wizard of the age, he was also well-versed in dark magic.
Thus, after returning Regulus's remains, he immediately began an intensive study of the locket he had retrieved.
He knew this locket could not be opened lightly.
Besides containing a fragment of a soul, it must also be imbued with Voldemort's advanced dark magic to prevent the Horcrux from being damaged—
It might even retaliate against anyone who tried to open it, making their life a living hell.
So for what felt like the umpteenth time, he opened Advanced Secrets of Dark Magic and reread its contents, speculating on what spells might be involved.
"To make the soul whole again after creating a Horcrux—repentance, but the pain of it would destroy the person—"
Closing the book.
Dumbledore believed he had prepared for everything. He stared intently at the locket—
But he noticed something odd.
Why was there no trace of advanced dark magic on this locket?
Could Voldemort's mastery of dark magic have reached such a pinnacle?
Returning to simplicity, hiding the traces of dark magic and the soul fragment?
Dumbledore's face grew serious.
The night wore on, and he decided to rest for now, to recharge before tackling this troublesome locket again.
But he had barely slept for two minutes when a silver Obscurial Patronus woke him.
Startled, he bolted upright in bed, nearly letting out a sharp bang!
A Patronus appearing in the middle of the night—his child must be in trouble at the Blacks'!
He knew it! That reckless Black couldn't possibly take care of a child properly! At least not as well as Snape!
Not even bothering to change out of his pajamas, he jumped out of bed, clutching his waist as he hurried to 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Yu, what happened—The locket?"
Dumbledore, clad in star-and-moon pajamas, was stunned.
...
Late at night, the Black ancestral home was brightly lit.
Two lockets lay quietly on the round table.
After listening to Regulus's story, Dumbledore sighed, Sirius covered his face, and Kreacher had fainted.
As for Harry—he had been sent back to his room with the reasoning that children needed sleep to grow taller.
"I may have never truly understood him—I always thought of him as that—obedient child who listened to our parents."
Sirius finally let his tears fall, soaking the front of his shirt:
"How did he dare to swap the Dark Lord's artifact? I thought he wouldn't dare... If I had understood him better, would he have come to me for help..."
He seemed unable to recover instantly.
The fact that his brother had rebelled against Voldemort seemed to have a stronger psychological impact than retrieving his remains.
Jane picked up the fake locket, noticing it was smaller than the real one, lacking the engraved patterns and the "S" mark.
It was just an empty shell, devoid of any advanced magic.
She easily pried open the lid, only to find a folded piece of parchment tightly wedged where a portrait should have been.
Dumbledore, who had been watching her every move, suddenly felt a toothache.
Perhaps this was what it felt like to be a clown.
He had reread Advanced Secrets of Dark Magic multiple times!
He had spent hours studying an ordinary box!
Had Jane not discovered the truth in time, he might have written half of his research notes by now!
But this child... showing such respect for a house-elf... her character was truly admirable!
If not for her convincing Kreacher, who would have known about Regulus's deeds?
They might have spent ages searching for the real locket's whereabouts!
Dumbledore couldn't help but mentally praise his student.
Meanwhile, Jane had pulled out the piece of parchment, realizing it was a letter from Regulus.
"I think you'd want to see this?"
Jane hung the locket around the unconscious Kreacher's neck and handed the note to Sirius.
He took it with difficulty, as if it required all his strength, and read aloud:
"To the Dark Lord: By the time you read this, I will be dead. But I want you to know, it was I who discovered your secret.
"I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as possible. I willingly risked my life in the hope that you would be defeated by your opponent. R.A.B."
Sirius clutched the parchment tightly, veins bulging on the back of his hands as he leaned back against the armchair.
"He was truly brave—his soul will carry on—"
Dumbledore sighed, gently comforting him.
It must be said that Sirius was indeed a strong-willed person.
He closed his eyes tightly, and after a long silence, his tears finally stopped.
Suddenly, he stood up from the chair, his bloodshot eyes gleaming, and even managed a defiant smile:
"There's nothing to cry about—I am proud of him—he finally made his choice—he was brave—"
He glanced around, his head slightly raised, exuding pride mixed with a touch of mockery:
"Now coming back to this house isn't so unbearable anymore—it's been occupied by two anti-Voldemort rebels!"
"Two unfilial sons in one family—what a pity my mother is dead; she should have seen the fine sons she raised!"
Sirius's gaze finally settled on Jane, and he smiled slightly.
Striding over, he grabbed her arm and ruffled her hair in a dog-petting motion:
"Alright, Yu! You brought Regulus back, uncovered the secret of the locket, and you are the smartest and bravest person I've ever met!"
Thanking her profusely, he pulled her along, attempting to give her a tour of the house.
He seemed to have regained his usual demeanor, now brimming with energy, like a husky showing off its buried bones:
"This house is under my control now. Take whatever you like!"
He draped an arm around her shoulders and pushed her up the stairs, stopping in front of a display shelf:
"My great-great-grandfather's entire collection of books, his silver snuffbox... my great-great-great-grandmother's jewelry... my mother's vase..."
Judging by his manner, Kreacher's label of "prodigal son" was remarkably accurate.
If his ancestors knew, they might just rise from their graves out of sheer anger.
At the very least, his great-great-grandfather, former headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black, was already swearing profusely in his portrait.
Meanwhile, the current headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was staring intently at Sirius's hand.
Where was that hand going?
Grabbing her arm?
Ruffling her hair?
And now draping it over her shoulder?
Sirius Black, have you looked at yourself in the mirror?
At your age, you could be her father. Is this appropriate?
Dumbledore's expression grew increasingly "kind."
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