Chapter 288 The Language of the Dead

On the second floor of this old Blake house that has been renovated, the dilapidated living room is reflected in the morning sun, revealing the scene of the past.

The fine dust, turned and shone in the beam of light projected from the window, and there was a faint musty smell in the air, as if to reject everyone who came here.

A house that has been uninhabited for a long time is a place where all the past is buried. Even if you try to dig out the bones, it will bring you nothing more than a heaviness from many years ago.

At this moment, the heavy white bones dug out by Maca were accumulating in the bottom of Sirius' heart to no avail.

Voldemort is a very conceited wizard. His conceit comes from his strength...Of course, it may also be from his nature...

In short, he didn't tell anyone else what he did at the time—it was a matter of course, because he wanted to obtain the ability of 'immortality'.

It's a black magic, quite evil, from ancient times... well, maybe even earlier than that! I can't say more about this black magic for now, but what I want to say is that for this black magic, he needs Hide something—in a few places where no one else knows.

And one of the locations is the place he took Kreacher to - he needs to find a 'worthless' creature to test whether the magic mechanism he left behind is perfect.

Hmph, worthless creature... Sirius snorted coldly, Then, why is this 'worthless creature' still here?

Of course, of course... Maca turned his head and looked at Kreacher, who bowed his head and said nothing, Because he's 'worthless', Voldemort ignored a very simple fact - the magic of house elves, It is decisively different from wizard's magic.

Speaking of this, Maca seemed to think of something funny, and said with a smile: If Voldemort brought an ordinary wizard as a test tool, then you might not hear this story now—Kreacher Escaped and returned with a simple 'apparition'.

When the word simple was mentioned, the corners of Maca's mouth couldn't help twitching.

You mean, there is magic that prohibits apparition in that place? Sirius sneered, This is really 'very Voldemort', like most pure-blood wizards, he is conceited and arrogant, even the wizarding community wants to There are three, six, and nine classes, not to mention house elves...

Yes, that's right. Maca spread out his hands, So Kreacher came back home, back here... As he was speaking, he changed the subject again, By the way, Sirius... I don't know Are you interested in finding out why Kreacher came back?

Isn't it just to escape? What's so strange—

Sirius was taken aback suddenly, frowning and looking at Kreacher, but Kreacher still closed his eyes tightly like a small statue.

It seems that you have also noticed, how could the house-elf 'run away'? Maca said, The reason why Kreacher returned—

You don't need to talk. Sirius suddenly became irritable, Is that what you want to tell me? The relationship between Regulus and a house elf?

Of course it's more than that. Maca turned to look at him and said, To be honest, your younger brother's magic talent may not be considered strong, but his pursuit of magic is practical and persistent.

What do you mean? Sirius asked suspiciously.

Maca pointed to the name at the bottom of the tapestry, and said word by word:

The 'stupid brother' you mentioned, Regulus Artuclus Black, is probably the first wizard in the world to discover the mystery of Voldemort's 'immortality'... Maca repeated with an emphasis ,First!

Sirius turned his head and looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar name Maca pointed at, and the boredom in his heart became more and more intense.

So what, Sirius roared angrily, waving his hand,

Regulus has been a brat who could only submissive to his parents and family since he was a child. He is cowardly and has no opinion. He will do whatever others say...

...he found out about Voldemort's secret, and then he was killed, which is a ridiculous ending... huh... fits his weak and useless character, doesn't it?

As he was talking, Sirius suddenly clenched his right hand tightly and slammed his fist hard on the name on the tapestry. With this punch, the dust on the tapestry fell and scattered in the rising sun.

Yeah! Killed by Voldemort... As far as the result is concerned, you can say the same. Maca nodded as if agreeing, but continued, But... as far as the process is concerned, his Death is worth remembering by all.

What? Sirius turned his head suddenly, bloodshot eyes appeared in his eyes.

Regulus asked Kreacher to take him there once, and then replaced the thing—with an identical fake—

And then? Sirius seemed to understand something, he held Maca's arm tightly, and almost roared out.

Then? Maca let Sirius grab his arm and shrugged, Of course I ordered Kreacher to come back! Just like ordering Kreacher to come back before—you know, house elves can't resist their master's will. Order.

Under the staring gaze of Sirius, Maca said calmly: As for your brother, he can't escape - the magic left by Voldemort is not something an ordinary wizard can escape.

Sirius fell silent, and his hand holding Maca gradually loosened. The slightly trembling hand was not known to be due to convulsions caused by excessive force, or for some other reason...

Maca pulled his arm out, grinned and rubbed it, and then turned his gaze to the tapestry; Sirius lowered his head, his long messy hair covered his eyes, making it hard to figure out what he was thinking .

At this moment, the appearance of Sirius bears an astonishing resemblance to Kreacher standing behind.

After a long time, Sirius suddenly raised his head and said hoarsely, Where is that place?

Look! That's one of the reasons why I kept it from you, Maca said calmly without even looking at him, What do you want? Do you want to take back your brother's bones? Or do you want to take your brother's body back? Bring back what was left to Voldemort?

I can't leave my brother in that damn place! Sirius yelled.

This is meaningless. Maca said, Why do you think Regulus ordered Kreacher to keep this secret all the time, and why did he order Kreacher to say that no one in the Black family is allowed to Does anybody know?

I don't care about this! Sirius said frantically, Isn't it just danger? Since when have I, Sirius, been afraid of danger? I—

Don't you understand? Maca grabbed Sirius by his collar, stared into his eyes and said, Your brother is afraid! He is afraid that this matter will be caught by you, a single-minded fool brother. Know!

At this point, we have no way of knowing whether Regulus had other ideas when he joined the Death Eaters. Maybe he did it for the pride of pure blood, or maybe he did it for other reasons... Ma Ka said carefully, But at least, his last order must be for your brother.

He knows that you are impulsive, reckless, and dead-headed, and you can risk your life for an idea. Once you know about it, you will definitely go!

But... what's the use of you going? Maca said unceremoniously, You can only do bad things! Only when Voldemort doesn't know about this matter, can it be possible to exert the greatest potential at the critical moment. Effect.

...Sirius, do you understand?

After finishing speaking, Maca let go of Sirius' collar, tidied him up, and then walked towards the door without looking back.

At this time, in this dilapidated living room, only two lonely figures, one big and one small, were left. They each stood in place, allowing their hearts to become heavier and heavier.

This is a silent confession made by a younger brother to an older brother after more than ten years!

Maca was right, Regulus' thoughts back then had long been buried in layers of dust of history, and with only a few remaining words, all he could gain was groundless speculation.

But even if it is just a guess, it is a guess that touches the true meaning, a guess that gives new meaning to the words left by the deceased.

For the dead, this kind of speculation may be just a lie full of mistakes; but for the living, this lie represents hope.

Some people say that in this world, there are only two professions that can give meaning to the past of the deceased - detective and liar.

Only a detective can dig them out of the grave and organize them into truths; only a liar can distort them in the grave and transform them into lies.

Maca, on the other hand, is a great writer through and through...ah no, I mean...a big liar.

At the end of the living room, the bright morning sun brought warmth to the room.

Regulus... Sirius stroked the name on the tapestry and said weakly, You are really stupid...you are really... extremely stupid...

Behind him, the house-elf Kreacher knelt on the dusty carpet, tears streaming down from his closed eyes.

He kept banging his head on the carpet, boom, boom, boom, raising a cloud of fine dust.

Looking out of the window, the sun has already climbed into the air unknowingly, radiating its light and heat wantonly, but it can't dispel the gloom in the hearts of the two completely different creatures, one big and one small.