Chapter 223

Early the next morning, Harry went to the living room to see what there was to eat and found Sirius had already made a large platter of rolled pancakes.

"Harry, yesterday was a holiday, and I didn't mention it to you," he said solemnly. "I've picked up some information about the Triwizard Tournament."

"Really?" Harry instantly became alert.

"Tonks didn't come just for Dumbledore's mission—more importantly, she's a Metamorphmagus, and the Soviet spy hiding among the tournament personnel is also a Metamorphmagus, according to the intel," Sirius continued. "Tonks showed me all the abilities of a Metamorphmagus—I thought it was simply astonishing."

"He can disguise himself as anyone of similar build, for as long as he wants, and even change his appearance while stepping into the bathroom," Sirius said. "Especially since we've gathered intelligence that he has a handler with the codename 'Badwolf'—it's not hard to imagine this man is extremely dangerous, possibly even cruel."

"It sounds familiar somehow…" Harry strained to recall, but couldn't remember where he'd heard it before.

"Don't think you can track him down," Sirius warned. "For now, at least, he doesn't seem to intend to interfere with the Ministry's plans—but if he sees you as an obstacle, all bets are off."

"Remember, he can disguise himself as anyone at any time, especially since he's a cold-blooded spy," Sirius reiterated. "Don't provoke him—you can't guard against everyone around you forever."

"Alright," Harry muttered. "But you mentioned Dumbledore's mission—what is it? Any new developments?"

"He found a cave where the Dark Lord hid a Horcrux, but to pass through it, you must sacrifice a life," Sirius said. "So I had to find someone who didn't deserve to live."

"Uh, did you find someone?" Harry felt it was cruel, but he had to admit—the real world was like this; Dumbledore was already doing his best to uphold justice.

"I did. We got the object—but it was fake," Sirius said. "Someone named RAB got there first."

"RAB," Harry murmured the three letters. "I feel like I've seen those initials somewhere before."

"Regulus Arcturus Black—the very man I'm impersonating right now. My brother," Sirius said helplessly. "I always thought he was a die-hard Death Eater, but now it seems he may have turned."

"You mentioned he disappeared…" Harry froze. "You don't mean… he sacrificed his own life to take the Horcrux?"

"Yes. Now we need to investigate who his accomplice was," Sirius groaned, tugging at his hair. "I thought my brother was a dull man—but it turns out he was far greater than I ever imagined."

"But how did Regulus find the location of the Horcrux?" Harry asked from another angle. "Could there be another resistance group opposing the Dark Lord?"

"According to Dumbledore, the Dark Lord stumbled upon this cave as a child. Later, he deemed it significant and placed a lake filled with Inferi and a basin of poison there," Sirius said. "As Dumbledore predicted, the Horcrux hidden there was one of Salazar Slytherin's relics—the locket."

"But now the real Horcrux is gone," Harry tried to reason. "If he discovered it as a child, could it be connected to people from his childhood?"

"That's hard to say. But if Regulus truly joined another resistance group, he wouldn't have kept it from me—or perhaps he went to the cave only after the Dark Lord's fall?" Sirius shook his head. "I have no clue. I knew too little about Regulus."

"What if you investigate further? Search his room for clues?" Harry suggested. "There might be something left behind."

"Good idea," Sirius admitted, looking slightly embarrassed. "I haven't been back to Grimmauld Place in ages, but Kreacher assured me everything remains exactly as it was. You wouldn't believe how close I came to fighting him just cleaning my own room."

"Where have you been staying all this time?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Ireland," Sirius shrugged. "I bought a house there—remote, since I'm doing things no one can know about."

"Besides, I'm really not keen on bringing you there," Sirius added. "Some clever people have realized I'm not a villain, but most still blindly follow Death Eaters—they're vicious through and through."

"But you're relying on the clever ones willing to turn away from evil, and restraining those who remain stubbornly wicked," Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Is that right?"

"Yes. It'll take a long time before I fully control this faction," he said. "That's why I envy Lupin. Werewolves are few, but they all obey him."

They chatted a while longer. Ron woke up, then Lupin arrived, and the conversation shifted to the timeless classic: Hogwarts jokes.

By midday, no one felt like cooking, so Sirius suggested going to the Three Broomsticks for food, then taking Harry back to Hogwarts.

"You still need to focus on school, Harry," Sirius said. "In fact, these students are the foundation of your future influence. Outside school, you'll never find another group so willing to gather around a shared ideal."

Harry agreed, but what could he even do back at school? He didn't see Ivy or Neville in the common room, so after a moment's hesitation, he took Ron toward the Chamber of Secrets.

Zhang Qiu and Elina were sipping tea and watching TV. After her last letter to her master, the alchemist had quickly figured out how to compress soap operas onto game cartridges so she could play them on her existing equipment.

On screen, heavy rain poured as a woman stumbled along under a broken umbrella until she reached a grand mansion.

Harry endured it patiently, learning from the subtitles that this was a plot about an illegitimate daughter demanding financial support from her noble father. Finally, when the Master struck his daughter, Harry cleared his throat loudly several times—only then did Zhang Qiu reluctantly pause the show.

"You two are back? How was Gilmour? Fun?" she asked.

"Not bad. How about you? Was the ball good?" Harry asked.

"Don't even mention it. Renata and Krum still wore their Beauxbatons uniforms—we went to all that trouble for nothing," Zhang Qiu sighed.

"But my white suit absolutely stunned her, and your hanfu looked beautiful too," Elina gushed. "The funniest part? Two guys in green robes, looking like rocks, were dancing with a pair of twin sisters—laughed me to tears."

"Where are Ivy and Ginny?" Harry asked—this was what he truly cared about.

"Not bad. Ivy didn't wear Ron's robe—she wore a suit with wide cuffs and white trim. Looked great," Elina said enthusiastically. "She wore black, and we complemented each other perfectly."

They chatted a while longer, learning gossip about the ball: Pan Xi wore a backless evening gown and still looked stunning—Zhang Qiu said she'd layered at least four concealer spells and seven highlight spells; or, Cui Ge returned at the last moment before the ball, wearing a blue suit and dancing with Luna in a yellow dress, though neither should've been there by age; another amusing detail: Lavender didn't show up—she'd gone home.

"Is Neville still dancing with Hannah?" Harry asked, curious about Hannah's rival in Dumbledore's Army. He remembered the boy—a mediocre but staunch pure-blood supporter.

"It's Daphne Greengrass—one of Pan Xi's followers," Zhang Qiu recalled clearly.

"I see," Harry sighed. "The plan probably won't show results until term starts—but we won't have many days before heading to Beauxbatons again."

"So cheer up—rare chance to rest," Zhang Qiu pressed play again. "Worry about everything after term begins."

Harry couldn't stand her family melodrama and dragged Ron away.

Just as he thought the holiday would slip away in meals, drinks, and chess, Donald returned to Hogwarts in early January, bringing Hermione with him.

Zhang Qiu didn't seem to want Hermione entering the Chamber, so they suddenly resumed spending time in the library. Ron complained bitterly, but Donald offered to give him private lessons—new concepts in combat techniques, and entirely novel alchemical armor—promptly drawing him in.

Everything felt like a return to the cherished days of second year, when exams didn't exist. Even though Hogwarts had reopened, since Beauxbatons hadn't, Donald managed to organize a small gathering with some students he'd once been close to.

Good times were always brief. Just as Harry watched Ivy rally a group of girls to attack Lavender, and Neville rally many boys in enthusiastic support—seeming like a perfect momentum—Dumbledore notified him: they were to depart for Beauxbatons on Saturday, January 14th.

Harry felt regretful—he wanted to see more of the girls' club's aftermath, and hoped to witness Malfoy and Pan Xi's development. As Ivy began adopting the lily persona, Pan Xi's smiles grew brighter each day.

On the night before departure, Donald arranged a secret meeting with Harry at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"I've thought of a perfect plan—one that'll let you complete the tournament effortlessly and beautifully," he said. "But I need some assistants. Any ideas? If you've got none, I can find absolutely reliable people—but it'll be a ceremonial act. If you want your friends involved, that's fine too."