Draco looked into Dumbledore's shocked eyes, then abruptly changed the subject, his tone as calm as if recounting a common old story:
"Because I suddenly remembered something— Salazar Slytherin's Locket has been taken."
"The one who took it was an opponent of Voldemort; his name was Regulus."
When Dumbledore heard the name " Regulus," his body trembled slightly.
A deep sense of surprise flashed across those usually calm eyes, as if this name held a long-buried past.
Draco continued without pausing, "He originally intended to destroy the Horcrux himself, but unfortunately he lacked the strength, so he asked his House-elf Kreacher to do it for him."
"However, Kreacher's abilities were ultimately limited, and he was simply unable to completely destroy the Horcrux."
"So now, we should go and Kreacher for the locket; given its loyalty to its owner, it should return it to us."
" Regulus Arcturus Black..." Dumbledore repeated the name softly.
He let out a long, drawn-out sigh.
" Sirius's brother, a Slytherin who, when everyone thought he had completely fallen and become a henchman of the Dark Lord, chose a different, thorny path."
His expression suddenly became extremely complex, a mixture of astonishment, understanding, deep sorrow, and yet another profound realization of the seemingly innate tragic fate of the Black clan.
"So the situation isn't completely out of control." After a long pause, Dumbledore's voice regained its usual clarity.
"The locket was retrieved by Regulus at the cost of his own life. He ordered the House-elf Kreacher to destroy it, but the House-elf was ultimately limited by his own abilities and could not accomplish this feat."
"That's right." Draco nodded.
Dumbledore looked at Draco again, quickly sorting through the key information in the new intelligence report:
"So the current situation is—the locket should be in Kreacher's hands right now, or at least, Kreacher knows its exact location."
" Kreacher harbored the intention to destroy the Horcrux, but was limited by his abilities and unable to carry it out."
"And the location where it is hidden is most likely within the Black clan's property—most likely, at 12 Grimmauld Place."
"That's right," Draco replied.
Dumbledore looked at him solemnly. "Your supplement is crucial. Although it cannot completely make up for your oversight in providing information late, it has indeed reversed our previous potentially dangerous misjudgment and prevented unnecessary waste of manpower and resources."
Draco's expression hardened upon hearing this, and he said in an extremely sincere tone, "Professor, I sincerely apologize for my oversight regarding the information on the locket earlier."
"I fully understand the catastrophic risks that delays and fragmentation of this kind of crucial intelligence could pose in this life-or-death struggle against Voldemort."
"I accept your apology, Draco." Dumbledore, his aged face showing no reproach, only the tolerance and expectation of an elder.
"This is no excuse, Professor," Draco quickly added, trying to explain his unusual way of obtaining information.
"I want to clarify that the way I obtained this information was not through systematic learning and research, but rather like scattered fragments that needed specific clues to trigger them before gradually becoming clear in my mind."
"The fragments of knowledge need specific clues to connect—this does indeed fit the characteristics of some ancient Prophecy, or deep magical resonance." Dumbledore a moment.
Then his tone abruptly changed, becoming increasingly serious.
"But Draco, this means you bear a heavy responsibility. You must learn to proactively sort through these fragments, repeatedly asking yourself if you've missed anything, rather than passively waiting for the 'trigger' to arrive."
"You must understand that in this war, every delay in information can come at the cost of blood and lives."
Draco solemnly promised, "I assure you that from now on I will do my utmost to ensure the completeness, timeliness, and clarity of the information provided."
"If my memory is hazy, or if the information itself is fragmented, I will clearly state its uncertainty rather than remain silent or supplement it later."
"Remember your promise," Dumbledore said. "In the fight against Voldemort, complete and timely information is just as important as the truth itself."
"A single fragmented disclosure, a vague statement, is enough to undo all the hard work of proper preparation and plunge countless people into an abyss of no return."
Draco nodded emphatically, making sure he remembered those words.
He knew in his heart that this matter was no child's play for Dumbledore, who bore the safety of the Wizarding World on his shoulders, and could not be taken lightly in the slightest.
Dumbledore gazed at him, as if to confirm that he had taken his advice to heart, before slowly asking, "Is there any other crucial information that needs to be added?"
"No more." Draco shook his head.
A thought actually flashed through his mind.
Perhaps this opportunity could be used to get Dumbledore to help his wavering father Lucius escape the quagmire of the Death Eaters.
On second thought, such behavior is somewhat like "intelligence hijacking," and is therefore a low-level approach.
Well, it's my own father; in the end, I'll have to find a way to save him myself.
"Well then, Draco." Dumbledore's voice finally regained its usual gentle and steady tone when bidding farewell to his students.
"Let's end our conversation here for tonight."
"Okay, Professor, I'll be going now." Draco replied, turning to push open the door and leave.
"They slipped away?"
Dumbledore was clearly taken aback by the overly " Muggle " and casual wording, pausing for half a second.
He taught at Hogwarts for decades, and he probably had never heard of a student who, after having such a high-level conversation with him concerning the fate of the Wizarding World, would use such understated words to describe their departure.
A faint smile crept onto the corner of his mouth, only to vanish just as quickly.
Just before Draco's hand touched the doorknob, Dumbledore's voice came slowly from behind.
He said with a mixture of concern and caution, "Be careful, Draco."
Draco paused, turned back, raised an eyebrow, and replied with a hint of youthful slyness mixed with seriousness, "Don't worry, I'm terrified of dying, Old Dumbledore."
The door closed softly behind me with a muffled thud.
Inside the office, Dumbledore did not immediately return to his large desk and sit down.
He stood alone in the center of the room, his gaze fixed on the spot where Draco had just stood, remaining silent for a long time.