| 12 Grimmauld Place |

“Master Sirius,” Kreacher croaked. The house-elf stood in the doorway, a look of utter defeat etched onto his aged face, clutching a wooden box in his hands.

“Hm? Yes?” Sirius asked, distracted with the letter he was writing.

“There is something I must tell you… It is about Master Regulus,” Kreacher said, his voice heavy with melancholy.

Regulus’s name commanded Sirius’s full attention. He slid his chair back and turned towards Kreacher before leaned in, his expression sharpening.

“You see… Master Regulus once told Kreacher to accompany…” Kreacher took a ragged breath before he whispered the next words, “The Dark Lord.”

Sirius went still.

“He… wanted to test the defenses of a place, and he used Kreacher to do it.” The house-elf shuddered violently at the memory.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Kreacher,” Sirius said softly. He poured a glass of water from a carafe on his desk and presented it to the elf, Kreacher accepted it with a grateful nod and gulped down the water.

“After that, Kreacher returned to Master Regulus and brought him back to that place on his orders.”

Sirius’s eyes widened as he realized where the story was going.

“With his dying breath, Master Regulus gave Kreacher something to destroy… Something the Dark Lord wished to protect. Kreacher failed.” The elf shook his head miserably and extended the wooden box toward Sirius.

Sirius looked from the box to the house-elf before taking it in both hands. Instantly, he felt a pulse of the darkest magic seeping through the wood, cold and malevolent.

“Kreacher apologizes for being a failure. Kreacher could not fulfill Master Regulus’s final wish,” the house elf sighed softly.

“It’s not your fault, Kreacher. And there is nothing to forgive. We will fulfill his last wish together.” Sirius gripped the box tighter, his knuckles turning white.

He cracked the lid open for a fraction of a second before snapping it shut in a hurry. The malice radiating from the object was palpable.

Just from that single glimpse, Sirius understood that simply blasting it with a spell wouldn’t work. He needed to understand the magic it held within.

“I need you to take me to that place first, if you can,” Sirius told Kreacher.

Kreacher hesitated, fear warring with duty, but eventually, he nodded. He reached out and grasped Sirius’s arm. With a loud crack, they vanished from the study.

They reappeared in a cavern of immense proportions. Black water stretched out around a small, rocky island in the center, bathed in an eerie glow.

Kreacher pointed toward a stone pedestal in the center of the island and took a half-step back, trembling.

“There… he made me drink it,” Kreacher whispered.

Sirius patted Kreacher’s back gently, to ground him, before he moved toward the pedestal. On top sat a stone basin filled with a glowing, emerald-green potion.

“What does this do?” Sirius asked, staring into the phosphorescent liquid.

“Bad things…” Kreacher whimpered, backing away toward Sirius. “Pain… terrible visions… and more pain. Then comes the thirst, dry and biting. But you must not drink from the water,” he pointed to the black lake surrounding them. “There are dead things inside. Dead things that move.”

Sirius looked around the cave, noting the extreme, sadistic security Voldemort had placed here.

“That locket… it seems he values it above all else. It must contain a secret that is essential for his life,” Sirius whispered, looking intently at the potion.

He turned to the elf. “Kreacher… no matter what I say, even if I order you otherwise… make sure I drink the whole thing.” Sirius ordered with steely resolve, picking up the crystal goblet resting beside the basin.

“No, Master! This place… It always takes a life. It should be me,” Kreacher protested, stepping forward.

“No one is dying on my watch,” Sirius said with a sharp wave of his hand. “I have an idea what happened to Regulus… I won’t repeat it. Bring a pitcher of water from the mansion. Now.”

Kreacher vanished with a pop and returned moments later, his hands shaking as he handed Sirius a large pitcher of fresh water. Sirius took it and placed it safely on the rocks beside them.

Sirius dipped the goblet into the basin, filling it with the emerald potion. Before Kreacher could protest again, Sirius raised it to his lips and drank its contents in one gulp.

Instantly, Sirius jolted. He staggered back, clutching his throat, and fell to his knees beside the pedestal. He leaned heavily against the cold stone, gasping for air, his chest heaving as if he had run a mile.

Kreacher was instantly at his side, his thin, stick-like fingers gripping Sirius’s sleeve, his face a mask of terror and guilt.

“Master Sirius! You must not take another!” Kreacher pleaded.

“Silence!” Sirius rasped, forcing the words past a throat that felt lined with thorns. “You heard the command… I must finish it.”

Sirius’s hand trembled violently as he dipped the goblet again. It felt as though it weighed a ton. He filled it and swallowed the liquid in another large, agonizing gulp.

Sirius collapsed onto the ground with a thud, leaning against the jagged rocks. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his eyes squeezing shut. The goblet clattered from his hand.

“James… my brother… I’m sorry…” Sirius muttered, extending a hand into the empty air as if reaching for a ghost.

Kreacher picked up the goblet. “The longer I take… the more Master will suffer,” the house-elf muttered to himself, tears welling in his large eyes. He moved to the basin as fast as he could.

He filled the cup and, with a shaking hand, poured it down Sirius’s throat.

Sirius screamed, a raw, tearing sound that echoed off the cavern walls. Then he stopped abruptly, his eyes snapping open, darting frantically in all directions.

“It’s cold… I’m so cold…” Sirius wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He curled into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest. “Their tattered black cloaks… they take away the happiness… leaving only cold.”

By this point, Kreacher was weeping openly as he filled another cup.

“It hurts… no more… It is an ord—”

Kreacher interrupted Sirius’s plea by pouring the potion down his throat again. Sirius coughed and gagged, thrashing weakly.

Sirius went limp on his back, gazing up at the cave roof with pure, unadulterated self-hatred.

“I killed you… James, Lily…” he whispered, his voice broken. “Clever, I thought myself… suggesting the Rat to keep the secret… I deserve this… I deserve the cell…”

He opened his mouth willingly when Kreacher brought the next cup, seeking the punishment.

“They know… they will never forgive me for it… Harry…” Sirius sobbed, gripping the stones beneath him until his fingernails broke. “He suffered because of me… Harry, James’s son… My son…”

“This is the last one, Master… The last one,” Kreacher choked out, supporting Sirius’s head as he poured the final cup into his mouth.

Sirius convulsed violently as he gulped down the last of the potion. The basin was empty.

“Water… please, please,” Sirius rasped, clutching his burning throat. He started crawling blindly toward the black lake, driven by an unnatural, biting thirst.

“Master, No! Take this water! That water has death!” Kreacher ran to intercept him, grabbing the pitcher they had brought.

Sirius snatched the pitcher with desperate strength and gulped down its contents, water spilling down his chin and soaking his robes. He drained it, dropped the pitcher, and heaved for breath, the magical fire in his throat finally doused.

“Take us back…” Sirius muttered, his voice barely audible.

With a soft pop, the cavern vanished.

Back at Grimmauld Place, the recovery was brutal. Sirius drank water for the next half hour, only to vomit it back up, dealing with waves of nausea and tremors for the next three.

Finally, the worst passed. Sirius sat on the floor of his bathroom, leaning wearily against the cool tiled wall, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked up at the elf hovering anxiously in the doorway.

“Tell me all that was worth it,” Sirius said, his voice hoarse but steady.

Kreacher stepped forward. He extended his hand, revealing the heavy gold locket Regulus had placed in the basin as a decoy years ago. He placed it gently on the floor in front of Sirius.

A/n: Give me your thought on the chapter and reviews on the fic.

And.. you got any power stones? Well, hand em over then.

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