“SLYTHERIN!”
Regulus sighed as a wave of relief washed over him. Mcgonagall lifted the hat from his head and he walked toward the sea of green as his new house-mates patted him on the back and invited him to sit down. He couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened had he been sorted into Gryffindor like Sirius had a couple of years ago.
He looked over at his brother, dressed in red and gold, sitting at the other end of the Great Hall with his friends, James, Remus, and Peter. Sirius smiled at Regulus reassuringly. The brothers were close; they had to be; they were both the black sheep of the family, made so by their outlying ideals. They didn’t believe in what the rest of their family called “impurities.” Their family thought that muggles, muggle borns, half bloods, and half breeds had “dirty blood,” but to the brothers, people were people.
The difference between the brothers though, what separated them the most, was courage. Sirius was always open about how he felt, earning him an unfair amount of scrutiny and abuse from the other Blacks, especially their mother, Walburga. Regulus, on the other hand, chose to hide this side of him, thus reserving his spot in the house of Slytherin, the house of the cunning, not of the brave; the family favored him.
When they were alone, the brothers often toyed with the idea of running away; although they’d never gone through with it, they promised that someday they would, and it was this promise that, although it had originally brought them together, would eventually tear them apart.
His first few years at Hogwarts were good for Regulus; it gave him a chance to escape the pressure that always seemed to hang around Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, where the only thing to relieve that pressure was his brother. At school, he had friends, and classes, and homework he could submerge himself in, and he was grateful for it. If he could, he would have stayed at Hogwarts every break, but his mother made him come home.
These breaks at home were the worst. He spent most of them in his room trying not to hear the constant bickering downstairs. Unfortunately, blaring Celestina Warbeck through the radio, a trick Regulus tried many times, wasn’t enough to block out the sound.
“Blood traitor! That's what you are!! A filthy, muggle-loving, blood traitor!” Regulus hated having to hear his mother scream at Sirius, and he was sure Sirius hated it even more, though when Regulus queried, he always pretended otherwise.
“It’s just a small bruise, Regulus. I’ll be fine,” Sirius would say to him one evening after Walburga had blackened his eye. When Regulus tried to argue, Sirius would wave him off and change the subject. When they were together, though, the brothers were happy, even more so when they would stay up late in each other’s rooms, plotting their escape.
That changed though in Regulus’s fourth year, when a girl named Serenity Christine entered his life.
He first saw her in the Great Hall during breakfast. She was a transfer student from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic; she’d shown up in the night, gone through a special, private sorting in Dumbledore’s office, been assigned to Slytherin. Regulus thought when he saw her, that she might just be the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He wanted to talk to her, but every time he tried to approach her, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.
A week after her arrival, she approached him.
“Summoning Charm.” She said, walking up behind him in the Slytherin common room.
“Huh?”
“Number thirteen. The answer.” She pointed to question thirteen on the parchment in front of him. “Summoning charm.”
“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” Regulus said, erasing what he had written and filling in the right answer.
“Your Serenity right?” He looked up at her.
She didn’t answer, but she sat in the chair next to him.
Regulus was mesmerised by her; she was stunning. Her blonde hair was twisted into a single, long braid down her back; her eyes seemed to change from green to blue and back again in the flicker of the firelight.
“Um…” Flustered, he didn’t know what to say. “I’m Regulus.”
“I know.”
“Oh. Do you need something?” He felt awkward.
“Nope,” she said. “Just watching.” With that, she met his eyes and smiled.
“Okay.” He didn’t know why she’d want to watch him, but he turned back to his homework. He soon relised he couldn’t concentrate with her sitting there. He put away his homework and turned to face her.
As if on cue, she asked, “Wanna go do something?”
He looked up at her. “Like what?” It was the dead of night, what could she possibly want to do?
“Just follow me.” She smiled and grabbed his hand dragging him out into the dungeons and up the stairs into the Great Hall.
“Where are we going?” Regulus asked, not fully trusting her, but she just shushed him.
“Be quiet. We don’t want to get caught.”
“Are you kidnapping me?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s comforting,” He said sarcastically. “I don’t even know you.”
“But you want to.” She said matter of factly as she led him down the set of stairs opposite the dungeons. “I could tell you wanted to talk to me, but you never did, so here we are. I’m doing it for you.”
“By kidnapping me?”
“Yes.”
“Psycho.”
“Awe, how sweet. Thank you.” She turned and smiled at him; god, even her smile was stunning. Regulus was beginning to like her. She led him to a large portrait of a bowl of fruit; he watched as she reached her hand up and tickled the pear.
“What are you doing? You abducted me so we could tickle fruit in the middle of a dark hallway?”
“We,” She responded, ignoring his remark. “Are breaking into the kitchens.” The portrait swung off the wall revealing a small, narrow corridor that soon opened into a large, cavernous room, identical to the Great Hall, but instead of students, it was entirely populated by house elves.
“Woah.” He turned to Serenity.
She bowed. “These little guys,” she picked one of the house elfs up and held him out toward Regulus. “Will cook whatever you ask them to.” She put the elf down.
“And how exactly did you figure out how to get in here? You’ve only been here a we-” She shoved a pumpkin pasty into his mouth.
“What can I say?” She shrugged. “I’m good at seeing things others don’t.”
They spent the rest of the night in the Slytherin common room, gorging on their sweets, and talking; they were fast friends.
***
Months passed, and the two only grew closer. Serenity was a year older than Regulus, so they shared no classes; most of the time they spent together during the day was in the Great Hall, or else the grounds when they had time off. She came to all of their quidditch games, cheered the loudest with every Slytherin score, every time Regulus had caught the snitch. From time to time they still crept around the castle as she showed him new secrets she’d discovered. Sirius, who said he could see the way Regulus looked at her, often teased him about the friendship.
“Why don’t you just ask her out?” He had asked one day. Regulus didn’t respond. He wanted to, but he didn’t know how to go about it.
It was just as he’d finally decided to tell her how he felt, that things took an unexpected turn.
They had been sitting in the grass, staring out at the lake, watching the sun glisten off of the rolling water. They had been sitting in silence for a half an hour, and just as Regulus was about to say something, Serenity spoke up.
“Wizards are pure,” she had said. “Everyone else is an impurity that needs to be controlled.” Regulus was shocked, she sounded just like his mother. When he didn’t respond, she turned to face him. “I’m impure Regulus.” Her expression turned grim. “My father’s a muggle. Don’t hate me for it. Okay? I’ll find a way to atone.” The way she had said ‘atone’ like it was her fault caught Regulus by surprise. How could the girl he’d befriended be so prejudiced? He didn’t know what to say.
“I don’t hate you.” Was all he managed. That’s when she kissed him.
Her lips were warm; everything about her was warm, but Regulus felt so cold. How could he love someone who went against everything he believed in? But he couldn’t deny that he did, in fact, love her. He closed his eyes and kissed her back.
***
Christmas break started the next day, and, as usual, Walburga was making Regulus come home, but this time, he was grateful; he had some things to think through. In the aftermath of the kiss, he felt guilty; it hung in the pit of his stomach like he’d swallowed a lead weight. Days passed. But still Regulus didn’t know what to do. He loved Serenity; he couldn’t just throw that away. But his brother? He couldn’t lose Sirius either.
As Regulus slept he heard someone walk into his room.
“Regulus? You awake?” He thought he was dreaming until he felt the hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Regulus.”
He turned to see his brother standing over him. “What’s wrong?” Regulus asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes.
“Tonight’s the night.” Sirius smiled down at him.
Panic flooded Regulus. He wants to run away now? Like, right now? “Why tonight?” When Sirius didn’t respond, Regulus grabbed his wand. “Lumos.”
Light from Regulus’s wand washed over Sirius’s face revealing a long scratch across his cheek and eye.
“Regulus, I’m fine. Let’s just-” Anger took over and Regulus shoved Sirius. “Hey!”
“Why can’t you just try, Sirius!?” Regulus was crying. “Just try to fit in; I hate watching you get hurt.”
Sirius was shocked. “I can’t do that, Regulus. I’m not gonna just hide who I am like you do. I’m not a coward.”
“And I am?” He asked. “Just because I don’t want to get beaten within an inch of my life that makes me a coward?”
“That’s-”
“Just go, Sirius.” Regulus rolled over and listened as Sirius hesitated, then backed out of his room, his presence replaced by an uneasy silence.
It wasn’t until the next morning that Regulus was aware of the choice he’d just made, but when he remembered the warmth of her lips against his, he was okay with it. He didn’t regret what he’d done.
Regulus woke to the smell of smoke, and he knew immediately that Sirius had left. He crept into the room that held the family tapestry to find his mother holding her wand to Sirius’s picture, burning it off.
“You’re so much better off without him, Regulus.” She said when he walked in. “He cursed me last night, the filthy blood traitor. He sent me straight up to the ceiling. Ah yes, there we go.” She’d finally finished burning Sirius off of the wall. She sighed. “You’re a much better son than he was Regulus.” He saw her smile for the first time.
Back at school, Regulus did his best to avoid Sirius, which wasn’t too hard since they were two years apart and in different houses, but if he saw him in the corridor, he would make intentional detours; it was only thanks to Serenity’s discovered shortcuts and secret passageways that he wasn’t late to class.
Regulus adopted Serenity’s beliefs the best he could, but it was only the thought of him and her together that could wash away the taste of guilt that lingered; it wasn’t until his fifth year at Hogwarts, after they had finally made their relationship official, that he could finally leave behind the doubts he’d been hiding. He’d chosen Serenity over his brother, over himself, and he didn’t second guess his decision again until his sixth year, just after christmas break.
She’d approached him in the common room just as she had when they first met. She sat in the chair next to him, closed the book he was reading and looked him in the eyes.
“Wanna go do something?” She asked.
He smiled, remembering the first time she asked him that question. “Like what?”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him out of his chair. “I have something to show you.” She led him to the Room of Requirement. The whole time she held her hands over his eyes so he couldn’t see where they were going, though he knew they'd been there hundreds of times together.
“Are you kidnapping me?” He asked.
“Maybe.”
“Good to know.” He smiled. When they entered, the room was stacked floor to ceiling with everything imaginable, a room of vanished objects. She removed her hands from his eyes. “You wanted to show me something?”
“Patience.” She said, “Patience.”
“Well how long are you gonna make me wait?”
She sighed. “Fine. I’ll show you.” She paused, then smiled. “You’re going to like it; I can tell.” She grabbed the bottom of her shirt, slowly lifting it up over her head. Regulus turned around feeling uncomfortable, he wasn’t ready for this.
She walked up behind him, grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around to face her. Then took a couple of steps back. She stood almost naked from the waist up, covered only by her bra; Regulus blushed; she ignored it.
“Look,” She said, but he didn’t want to. Just as he was about to turn back around, she lifted her left arm out toward him and turned it over so her palm faced the ceiling. That was when Regulus saw it; she had a tattoo. A snake and a skull, right there on her forearm. He met her eyes. “I joined over Christmas.” She smiled, but to Regulus it seemed her usual warmth was gone.
“This-” He felt breathless. “This is big.”
“I know.” She laughed. “I think you should join.”
“Ren,” He said, using his nickname for her. “These people are dangerous.”
“Exactly. Dangerous people are the only ones who get stuff done, Regulus.”
“But they could kill you in an instant; they could kill all of us.”
“Only if we give them a reason to.” She stepped toward him. “These people, the Death Eaters, can bring an end to the world's impurities, my impurities.”
“Serenity, I-”
“Regulus, I told that I would find a way to atone. This is it. The Death Eaters can make me pure again.”
“I don’t know Ren.”
“Just think about it. Okay?”
He didn’t respond. He could understand her dislike for non-magical people, but to go so far as to join the Death Eaters? They kill people; they torture people, and Regulus didn’t know if he could get past that.
“Regulus?”
“Yeah?”
She put her hands on his face and looked deep into his eyes. “Please.” She whispered it, then slowly pressed her lips to his.
I’ve come this far, left everything behind. Regulus thought. I can’t go back now. “Okay.” He kissed her back, but this time was different than all the others. The feeling of her body against him lit a fire inside him, a sort of hunger. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. He needed her. Any shyness he’d harbored earlier was gone; he wanted more, and she gave it to him.
“Okay,” He whispered again. “Okay.”
***
“Come on Regulus. Just do it. It’ll be a great way to earn points with the Dark Lord.”
“Do you even know what he wants with an elf?”
“I promised I wouldn’t tell.”
“Not even me?”
“He’ll know Regulus, so no. Not even you.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope.”
“Fine.” He kissed her, then apparated back to his childhood home. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.
One year and one day had passed since Regulus had gone through with his promise to join the Death Eaters, and he had mixed feelings; the Dark Mark on his arm seemed to itch; it was like he was having an allergic reaction to this way of life, but because he’d pushed through for this long, he continuously told himself he’d get used to it.
As he walked through the front door of Number 12, he was immediately greeted by his mother who was ecstatic to see him; ever since he’d joined Voldemort, Walburga had been even more proud to have him as a son.
“Where have you been?” She asked.
“Where have I not been?” Regulus said, and it was true; he had traveled quite extensively in the past year; his main job was to recruit new members; the Dark Lord didn’t trust him enough to have him do anything else quite yet.
“Well,” his mother responded. “You’ll have to sit down later and tell me everything. What’s he like in person?” Regulus thought back to the first time he’d met Voldemort. His presence had been cold, terrifying; it felt similar to that of a dementor. His scarlet eyes were piercing; they had sent chills down Regulus’s back; he knew that this monster could kill him in an instant. It was an experience he’d never forget.
He told none of this to his mother. “It was- he was… inspiring.”
“I’m proud of you Regulus,” she said. “A real Death Eater.”
“It’s hard to believe.”
“Well… I’ll let you rest. I’m sure you’ve had a long journey.” With that she left the room. Regulus hadn’t bothered to tell her he wasn’t staying.
“Kreacher,” he whispered, and with a loud snap, the elf appeared.
“Master Regulus is home? Kreacher wonders,” Kreacher said, pondering. “What has brought Master Regulus back from The Dark Lord’s ranks.”
“Voldemort wishes to see you, Kreacher.” Regulus explained, crouching down, putting himself on level ground with the elf.
“But what could the Dark Lord want with Kreacher? Kreacher is just an elf.”
“Why don’t we find out?” He held out his hand for Kreacher to grab and they disapparated.
***
“Leave us Regulus,” Voldemort commanded him a few minutes after Regulus had arrived with Kreacher.
Regulus walked from the room, his footsteps echoing off of the marble walls. He was shaking, worried that something would happen to Kreacher; he knew how the Dark Lord could be.
It was just as he had let the door close behind him that heard the loud crack of Voldemort and Kreacher disapparating.
Regulus spent the length of the time they were gone pacing his bedroom at Number Twelve. What could he possibly want with the elf? He asked himself repeatedly, but he couldn’t come up with an answer; all he knew was that whatever it was, it had to be diabolical.
The longer he waited, the more he worried until finally he decided to call the elf back to him.
“Kreacher!”
Crack! Relief flooded Regulus, but only for a moment. When he saw Kreacher, he almost cried. The elf was curled up into a ball on the floor, struggling for breath. Twitching. Screaming.
“W- W- W- Water” Was all he managed to say.
Regulus summoned to them a glass of water and carefully poured the life saving liquid down into Kreacher’s mouth. Once the glass was empty, it was minutes before he was recovered enough to talk again.
“What happened Kreacher?”
“Kreacher was left.” He whispered, as if worried The Dark Lord might hear.
“He left you!?”
Kreacher spilled the whole story.
Voldemort had taken him deep inside a cave, taken his blood to gain entrance, and made him drink a horrible potion that caused him to see terrible things.
“The Dark Lord laughed at Kreacher’s pain,” Kreacher said. “He told Kreacher that he had been a bad elf, and that Kreacher deserved what he got.” The thought made Regulus want to puke.
Voldemort had then pulled a locket from his cloak and placed it inside the basin Kreacher had drunken the poison from.
“A locket?” Regulus queried.
“He told Kreacher it held a piece of his soul. Told Kreacher that he could no longer die.”
It dawned on Regulus. Voldemort had been hiding a horcrux, an artifact spawned from the most evil magic imaginable, and it pained him to know that he had contributed to this act. How could Serenity support something as awful as this? How could he love someone who thought this was okay?
A deep sense of disgust rose within himself like a growing fire, each breath he took like bellows fueling it higher. He felt like a foreigner to his own skin. He had ruined his relationship with his brother, and for what? He wanted to curl up into a ball and to never get up again, but he knew he had to fix this.
“Take me to the cave Kreacher. Please.” He scratched something out on a piece of parchment, shoved it in his pocket, and then they were gone.
He sacrificed his own blood, not the elf’s, to get in, and when they got to the basin where the horcrux was hidden, he himself drank to potion.
“Switch the lockets.” He had told Kreacher, handing him one seemingly identical to the one Voldemort had left behind. “Then leave. Leave me Kreacher. Destroy the real one.” Kreacher, however reluctantly, was forced to obey his master.
Drinking the potion was excruciating. It brought to his mind images of pure nightmare.
He saw his brother and the way he looked at him that night when Regulus had betrayed him. He relived all of his moments with Serenity, but not with the joy he’d had when he’d first experienced them, but as the man he used to be, horrified by his own actions, overcome with regret.
He knew he was going to die; he had come to the cave planning to die, but reliving these terrible things, he wanted to see Sirius one more time, to apologise to his only brother. He dragged himself to the water, cupping his hands to pull some of it to his mouth, and he drank. The water seemed to wash the pain away, making it as if it were never even there, but as hope began to replace the dread, he felt something wrap itself around his arm, then something else around his body. Inferi.
He tried to fight them; he tried to break free, but he wasn’t strong enough. The living dead, more dead than alive, began to pull him farther and farther into the lake. He couldn’t breathe; water filled his lungs. The more he struggled against these creatures, the harder they seemed to pull until, slowly, he became one of them, motionless in the deep, waiting for the boy and the warlock, for the two who, years from now, would disturb their waters again.