Struggling to survive at Hogwarts

Chapter 282 Regret in the Cave

The relentless pursuit continued even after Harry and his friends had escaped to the Muggle neighborhood.

Faced with the dilemma of whether to die tonight or tomorrow night, Harry and his friends chose the second option—they escaped to number 12 Grimmauld Place.

After carefully closing the door, the old-fashioned gas lamp simultaneously illuminated the long hallway.

It was still the same as Harry remembered, only more dilapidated—Sirius hadn't been back for a long time, and for some reason, he preferred the temporary lodgings in the pub for easier movement.

After Snape revealed his true colors, he was even less willing to return to the old house. Who knew if Snape would storm in with the Death Eaters at any moment?

Harry wasn't sure about the possibility of this problem, but tonight, this not-so-safe old house would be the place where the three of them would stay.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Harry had another dream. The dream, though not long, was filled with all sorts of bizarre and fantastical images. It was as if an invisible hand was roughly shoving these images into his brain, without any regard for whether he could accept them or not.

"hiss--"

Like the excruciating pain of a hangover, Harry nearly bit his tongue in agony.

Just as she was calming down, Hermione's excited voice came from outside the door.

"Harry! Get up, I've made a great discovery!"

"I've found RAB!"

Upon hearing those three letters, Harry felt a sudden, dull pain in his heart. In an instant, images flashed through his mind: a dark cave, a deadly poison, an old man's pleas... The final image settled on a white tomb.

"...Who is it?"

By the time Harry realized what was happening, he was already standing in front of Hermione.

Hermione also realized why Harry was acting strangely. She pursed her lips and whispered, "It's Regulus Black, Sirius's younger brother."

As she spoke, Hermione pointed to the door next to her, and Harry also saw the sign: "No entry without permission. Regulus Arcturus Black."

"—RAB..."

Harry stared blankly at the three letters. He never expected that they would be so lucky to find the first clue. This was the first good news they had received since last night.

Soon, the three perked up and began searching Regulus's room for clues about the locket.

Harry suddenly slapped his forehead, and amidst the other two's stares as if he were an idiot, he slowly revealed the flash of inspiration he had just had.

"There are probably people who know this house better than we do."

“…Sirius?” Ron was the first to react.

But Harry shook his head. The next second, he pressed his wand to his throat and shouted, "As Sirius Black's godson, I command Kreacher to appear before me immediately!"

Hermione and Ron's expressions changed slightly at the mention of the name. Even though Hermione was determined to save the house-elves, she couldn't bring herself to like a little elf who called her "Mudblood" all the time.

Although Hermione and Ron were somewhat puzzled, Harry's method was undoubtedly feasible, and soon, the familiar, withered house-elf appeared before the three of them.

Having tasted success, Harry used the same trick again, and before long, the three of them learned from Kreacher the whereabouts of the locket and a... regret.

After Kreacher left with his orders, Hermione and Ron anxiously surrounded Harry.

"Perhaps I've already seen him... in that cave..."

"Among those hordes of undead."

Harry's tone was full of regret, but he quickly hesitated and said, "Hermione, could we...?"

"cannot!"

Hermione decisively interrupted Harry before he could finish speaking; as longtime friends, she could guess what he was going to say.

To be honest, she also felt sorry for Regulus's fate, but that was not a reason for them to risk their lives to bring him home.

“Harry,” Hermione tried to soften her tone, “it’s not that I don’t want to save him, it’s just that we can’t get away. There are probably wanted posters plastered all over the outside right now, and I’m not even sure if a Killing Curse will hit us at any moment…”

"We can die, but we shouldn't die before we've achieved anything..."

“We will go and take him away, but it doesn’t have to be now, does it?”

Hermione's words eventually persuaded Harry.

At that moment, Ron suddenly said, "Maybe we can notify the other members of the Order of the Phoenix; they might have a solution."

“That’s a good idea,” Hermione’s rare praise made Ron’s eyes light up, but Hermione quickly added, “But we don’t have any secure means of communication right now, even the Patronus can be tracked.”

“Okay.” Ron lowered his head listlessly.

"Bang!" Harry patted Ron on the shoulder, his tone spirited. "Looks like we'll have to find a way to hire an owl next!"

Ron perked up and nodded emphatically.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Inside Riddle's old house.

Since Voldemort did not send any message to Thea to release her from solitary confinement, Thea voluntarily locked herself in again after the intimidation mission ended.

But even so, those who are supposed to report still have to come.

"The Ministry of Magic has fallen? Who spread the news?"

Thea was genuinely unaware of this. She had only sent a dozen or so Death Eaters to cause a ruckus at the Ministry of Magic and, incidentally, to retrieve the documents she had left in her office.

How did it become the Ministry of Magic falling?

"Also, how did Scrimgeour die? Who did it?"

Faced with Thea's doubts and recalling the news he had just received, Little Barty couldn't help but laugh.

"It was all a misunderstanding. Dorfin and the others missed their spell and blew up the sculpture at the Ministry of Magic on the spot. Unexpectedly, there was a reporter there at the time..."

"It was just a sculpture that was blown up, but as the news spread, it turned into the Ministry of Magic being overrun."

"sculpture?"

"It's that one where 'magic is power'!"

Thea: "…………"

So you've completely dismantled the Ministry of Magic's facade?!

"What about Scrimgeour?"

Thea forced herself to ask, but to her surprise, Little Barty's smile widened.

"Oh, he was crushed to death by that sculpture,"

"He was tripped by someone, and Dorfin cast an Explosion Spell on the spot. Unexpectedly, it collapsed the statue, and Scrimgeour was crushed to death."

After listening to Little Barty's description, Thea remained silent for a long time.

I have a feeling that something's not right in the wizarding world!

What kind of good wizard could be easily killed by a falling statue!