Chapter 8: The Locket

Máximus felt fury take over him after watching his only chance to escape disappear with Kreacher. But he forced himself to calm down, making himself think clearly. He couldn't let despair consume him. As he looked around the cave, his eyes returned to the pedestal in the center of the island, where he remembered Voldemort had left a locket. Slowly, he got up and returned to the pedestal. "Maybe... that's what I need to escape," he thought as he touched the liquid in the basin but felt nothing.

"Wait..." he murmured. "I'm sure I saw Voldemort leave a locket here... Where is it? Could the only way to reach it be to remove the liquid?"

Máximus recalled the horrific scene of Kreacher being forced to drink the potion. A shiver ran down his spine—if he still had a functional one. "Do I have to drink this?" he thought, torn between fear and the need to survive.

"I need more clues..." he told himself, determined to find a way out. "If the locket is here, it might hold the answers I'm looking for."

He mustered up his courage, grabbed the shell beside the pedestal, and with trembling hands, scooped up the first sip of the dark liquid. He eyed the liquid with suspicion. The stench was nauseating, and its thick consistency did nothing to ease his fear. He hesitated for a few more seconds before bringing the shell to his lips. The moment the liquid touched his tongue, he felt a pain so sharp it almost knocked him to the ground. It wasn't physical pain, but mental, as if the potion was attacking his thoughts, his memories, what remained of his humanity.

"Aaagh!" he groaned, falling to his knees. "Why does it hurt so much... if I shouldn't even feel it?"

The pain was unbearable, and he had only taken one sip. He glanced at the basin, and the liquid had barely gone down. He knew he couldn't stop, not if he wanted answers. After what felt like an eternity, Máximus forced himself to stand and took another sip. The pain struck even harder this time, leaving him trembling on the ground. Every time he tried to get up, he collapsed, his body and mind battling the torment.

What felt like an eternity passed in that cycle of agony, drinking and falling, over and over again. He knew he had no other choice. Finally, after hours, or maybe days, he had reached what he believed was half of the basin. The pain, this time, was so intense that he lost consciousness completely.

When he awoke, he didn't know how much time had passed. His mind was foggy, and his body, though technically dead, felt heavy and exhausted.

"I'm almost there... just a little more..." he murmured as he crawled back to the basin.

But when he looked inside the basin, he froze. The black liquid had refilled to the brim.

"No... this can't be..." he whispered, his eyes wide with despair.

He collapsed to the ground, feeling an overwhelming sense of anguish. The cave had some kind of mechanism to refill the potion if it wasn't consumed in time. Máximus felt overwhelmed, but he remembered that, at least, the Inferi didn't attack him. Perhaps, he thought, that was his only advantage.

"I have to keep going... maybe, over time, my body will get used to the pain. That might allow me to drink faster and finish it before it refills again..." he told himself, clinging to hope.

And so, Máximus repeated the process. Again and again, he approached the pedestal, drank the poison, and suffered until his mind could no longer take it and he passed out. But each time he tried again, the pain became a little more bearable, and the time he could withstand before passing out increased.

Finally, after what seemed like hundreds of attempts, the liquid in the basin began to decrease significantly. Each time, he got closer to reaching the bottom. Until, on one of his final attempts, he saw something shiny at the bottom of the basin. The locket. With one last effort, he lunged toward the pedestal, and before his body collapsed again, he grabbed it with all his strength.

When Máximus woke up, he was still holding the locket in his hand.

"I did it!" he exclaimed, his hoarse, guttural voice echoing through the cave. Euphoria filled him; he had endured the impossible and finally reached what he had been searching for.

However, as he sat by the shore, studying the locket closely, the euphoria began to fade.

"Now what?" he murmured.

He knew what it was. A large "S" adorned the back, and on the front, a gemstone glowed with a dark gleam. This locket, one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, contained a part of his soul. He remembered that Harry Potter and Dumbledore would come for it at some point... but he also remembered that the locket they found was fake.

"Wait... this is the real locket! I've changed everything... Now what?" he wondered, his concern growing.

He thought about opening the locket. Perhaps he could talk to the fragment of Voldemort's soul and, with its help, find a way out. But doubt crept in.

"What if Voldemort finds out? What if he possesses me, like with Tom Riddle's diary?" he reflected.

The possibilities were many, and all dangerous. Máximus knew he was playing with fire. But his desperation to escape grew with each second he spent in that cave. Finally, with the locket in hand, he made a decision that could change everything.