Everyone thinks Regulus never got to know what love feels like. They think he lived all seventeen years without the burning passion of love. But that isn’t true at all. Regulus knew what love felt like.
Every one of his last seconds was filled with love and yearning.
Love is being seen and reached for. It is an uncontrollable force that makes your heart race and fills you with a burning passion. When you are in love, your breath is stolen from your lungs, your head is fuzzy with cotton, and your eyesight goes dim. Every atom of your body tingles with desire and even the slightest thought flushes your face with warmth. You know with absolute certainty that what you are experiencing now will change your life, completely and forever. It is a leap of faith into the unknown, falling without knowing what will come next. Love is letting yourself be held, even when you don’t think you deserve it.
And this is exactly what Regulus Black felt that night in the cave.
As the hands of the inferi broke the lake’s smooth surface, Regulus couldn’t help but think how nice it was to be noticed, to have someone reach for him. It was so rare in his life that he was truly wanted.
The scaly hands wrapped around his wrists, his forearms, his shoulders, pulling him into the lake with an uncontrollable force.
As soon as the icy waters surrounded him, Regulus’s heart began to race. He struggled against the downward pull, convulsing with a fervent passion. Even in as dire a moment as this, Regulus couldn’t help but wonder if this was the same kind of thrusting movements one might perform on a lover. As his lungs begged for air, his chest began jerking in and out, trying to draw in what Regulus’s mind would not let it. His head began to feel funny, like a scratchy rug, stiff and fuzzy, making it hard to think. As his oxygen quickly ran out, the lake’s greenish glow started dim, fading to black around the edges. Regulus’s whole body began to convulse, burning and tingling with thedesire to be free. Suddenly, the freezing lake began to feelwarm and stuffy, like the Great Hall on winter evenings, when the fireplaces are roaring and the room is packed with bodies.
Regulus watched through spotted vision as the surface slowly slipped away. And he knew in those final moments that he’d never be able to go back. There is nothing more Regulus could do, he simply had to have faith that he had done enough. Finally, Regulus could let go. For the first time in his short life, he stopped fighting, stopped scheming, stopped wishing. He simply let himself fall. He let the inferi wrap their scabbed arms around him and hold him tight.
Yes, in these final moments, Regulus was certain he knew what love was.
He was certain that love was drowning. It was letting himself be taken by an all-consuming force. It was submitting to the demands of a hungry beast.
What a shame it is that Regulus died with the inferi’s embrace being the tightest he was ever held.
What a shame it is that Regulus died with the heat of hypoxia being the warmest he’s ever been.
What a shame it is that Regulus died with the idea that torture is love and love is torture.
Love and torture are not the same.
But no one ever told Reggie that.