Voldemort's Twisted Sense of Humor

The lake's surface returned to calm, with only the occasional tiny bubble rising from below.

The terrifying aura around Vincent had not faded. Instead, it grew stronger bit by bit with time.

Dumbledore sighed again and gently laid the corpse he had been carrying on the ground.

Sirius Black had wondered why he had specifically brought back a corpse, until he saw that painfully familiar face.

"He... so he died here."

Sirius crouched beside the corpse. "Thank you, Albus. Thank you for bringing him back."

Harry looked at the handsome young man's body and realized that he looked somewhat like his godfather.

"You fool..." Sirius reached out sorrowfully and touched the corpse's scratched forehead.

"I told you long ago that those people were cruel and had no moral limits. You refused to listen and insisted on following them. Ending up like this was your own fault."

Harry remembered someone, one of Voldemort's early followers.

His name was Regulus Black, Sirius's younger brother by blood.

If his older brother had been the family's odd one out, then he had been the perfect heir to the family.

A Slytherin graduate, he had been intelligent and learned, as well as a firm supporter of pure-blood supremacy.

Unfortunately, like his cousin Bellatrix, he had chosen the wrong path and ultimately perished in a Black Lake that radiated an ominous aura.

Sirius did not grieve for long before getting to his feet and thanking Dumbledore again.

No matter what, he and Regulus were brothers who shared the same blood. He had to bring him home.

Wisps of steam slowly rose from the seemingly calm lake.

Fiendfyre capable of burning everything continued to weave through the lakebed, and the water level gradually fell.

Unlike Harry, who felt reassured, Sirius was filled with concern.

No matter how