Harry Potter: The Muggle Crown Prince at Hogwarts

Dumbledore looked at Slytherin's locket gravely.

His robe was a little messy, and he was covered in travel dust.

The old headmaster had a hard time convincing Kreacher that they had a common ground, and finally got the locket out of the old house-elf's hands.

Those blue eyes stared at the box, wondering what he was thinking.

After a long while, he looked at Allen, seeming a little tired, "My child... In fact, I just had a locket..."

Dumbledore sighed, brazenly took out a handful of candy from his pocket, and crunched into bites.

"I also said that I would contact you in a few days, and now you have the news, so I really don't know which one is true and which one is false."

Allen looked at him with a half-smile, and finally gave him some face, and accepted the old fox's misfortune.

"...I'm sorry, sir. Where did you find the other locket?"

Dumbledore bit the candy, shrugged his shoulders lightly, looked at Kreacher next to him with azure blue eyes, and said slowly, "Maybe, Regulus and I found the same place."

Kreacher looked at him, covering his face with a sob.

Dobby looked at this, looked at that, and carefully hid behind Allen.

Sirius stood aside blankly, and finally couldn't help asking, "You should at least tell me—what the hell are you talking about?"

Allen lowered his eyes and smiled, sat down on his own, picked up the black tea cup and took a sip.

Dumbledore said softly, "Oh, Sirius...

"I can only say that Regulus is really a smart and brave boy..."

He wiped the corners of his eyes and said calmly, "He discovered Voldemort's conspiracy before any of us, and he probably paid the price for it."

He looked at Kreacher, who was crying sadly, and said softly, "Kreacher, maybe you can tell us the truth about that year?"

Kreacher's eyes were swollen from crying.

It really wasn't a pretty sight.

think about it--

An old, stooped house-elf with eyes like faded green tennis balls, now ringed in red.

Especially when it was still wiping away its tears and snot with its extremely dirty vest.

But even at this point, it didn't forget Regulus' entrustment, and said firmly, "You destroy it first—"

He stared at everyone vigilantly, retreated step by step to the corner, shrank himself in the corner, and stared at the locket in Dumbledore's hand.

"Only if you destroy it, Kreacher will be willing to tell the truth."

Dumbledore nodded, and said easily, "It's not difficult—Alan, we have to use your Parseltongue."

Those sea-blue eyes slightly curved up, looking at him radiantly.

Sirius watched them bewilderedly.

If it weren't for his absolute trust in Dumbledore, he would not be willing to endure this concealment.

At this time, a horrible hissing sound came from Allen's mouth, as if a steel knife hissed through his bone marrow, bringing a chill.

Dobby and Kreacher trembled too.

They were all elves who had witnessed the bloody era of the Dark Lord back then, so they knew exactly what this unique voice represented.

Resisting the urge to draw his wand, Sirius strode over to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore calmly raised his wand, and the moment the locket opened, he fired a burst of fiendish fire steadily, engulfing the black mist in the locket and burning it down.

The black mist roared and screamed in the flames.

The black smoke condensed into a black skull, roared and charged in Fiendfire, and finally dissipated without a trace amidst screams.

Under that kind of soul tremor, Sirius panted with palpitations, and subconsciously looked at Allen on the sofa beside him.

The Muggle Crown Prince lowered his eyebrows and took a sip of his tea leisurely.

...as if dismissive.

Sirius couldn't help being a little ridiculous.

This kid was more like a pure-blood descendant than him, and he was full of the kind of aristocratic and silent arrogance, which had nothing to do with Gryffindor.

...But Harry was taught by him for two full years, and even switched to Slytherin for him.

He couldn't help feeling a little worried.

According to Dumbledore, Harry trusted the crown prince very much.

Sirius looked at the opened locket and saw Dumbledore gently close it.

Those hands were as old as cracked bark.

Allen raised his eyes calmly, looked at him for a moment, then moved his gaze to Dumbledore, smiled slightly, and took the locket from the old headmaster.

He played with this small box, seeing that there was no trace of fierce fire on it, and thought about what he could use it to hold.

or……

Allen thought, how about keeping it as a gift for his mother?

As soon as this idea came out, he felt great, and happily put the box into the connected space spell on the watch.

The crown prince in a good mood leaned half on the armrest of the sofa,

The slender and fair fingers tapped the air lightly, lighting an unknown movement.

Dumbledore cast a reproachful look at him, then at Kreacher, and said, "Ah, Kreacher. Can you trust us now?"

Kreacher knelt on the ground, howling loudly, grabbing the ground with his head.

"Master Regulus... Kreacher destroyed it... Kreacher fulfilled your order!"

It wiped away tears under Dumbledore's comfort, and replied with sobs,

"Yes, noble Professor Dumbledore."

"Yes... Back then, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord's camp..."

"you this!"

Sirius couldn't help but took a step forward, was held tightly by the old headmaster, and stopped in place.

Kreacher got up from the ground on his own, snorted and looked at him contemptuously, and said in a low voice, "Of course, unlike your prodigal young master, Master Regulus has self-respect and knows Black's surname and his integrity." What does lineage mean."

Sirius let out a huff.

Yeah yeah……

That bloody, stupid brother!That slimy follower!That idiot who felt pity for Muggles and house-elves!

He is really worthy of his "pure" bloodline!

Kreacher continued, almost in a whisper, so low that it was barely audible.

"Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord's organization when he was 16 years old. He was so proud and happy——

"To be able to contribute to the great cause of keeping wizards out of hiding."

Dumbledore listened calmly, tears seemed to well up in his eyes.

"But one day he came to see Kreacher in the kitchen and said—"

The old elf shook his body, as if he was in unbearable pain.

"...he said the Dark Lord wanted an elf. He wanted Kreacher to go and do the Dark Lord's order and go home."

Kreacher sobbed, shaking violently.

"The Dark Lord took Kreacher to a cave by the sea—a large rocky cave with a large black lake in it...

"There is a stone-stone basin on the island, full of potions."

Dumbledore sighed deeply, but heard Alan's voice.

The voice was deep and cold, very similar to Edward's, with a trace of curiosity in the calmness.

"You drank it, didn't you?"

He looked at the blond crown prince who was sitting upright, and saw the almost indiscernible interest hidden in those sea blue eyes.

Allen couldn't help admiring the "Dark Lord".

On the way of torture, the other party has a rare talent.

he asked,

"—Then how did you come back? I think that potion is not a euphoria, and Voldemort will not allow you to survive."

At that moment, Dumbledore's intuition frantically warned.