The Forbidden Spare

Thud.

A melody Regulus didn’t recognise played through the long hallway, which seemed to spiral into a neverending maze. The walls were covered with portraits, and the further he walked, the more miserable their expressions seemed to become. Regulus could feel eyes following his every move, full of lingering resentment and spite.

Thud.

At that moment he realized something he had failed to notice earlier.

Their mouths.

Their mouths were moving. Set in deep frowns, screaming. Inhumane sounds attacked his eardrumms from every crook and cranny of that wretched hallway. The entire space seemed to be rejecting him, while simultaneously dragging him further inn. Not willing to let him go, let him escape. Regulus could make out a few words, but only barely.

Toujours pur.

The screaming and screeching was only getting louder and more unbearable with every passing second, becoming more incoherent and unintelligible, only one sentence standing clearly out from the rest. As if that one sentence held so much power, so much control that it was deeply and forcefully engrained in their very beings.

TOUJOURS PUR!

Thud!

Regulus woke up with a start, beads of sweat running down his temple, struggling to catch his breath as if he’d been dragged into the deepest, darkest part of the ocean. His vision was blurred, yet clear and sharp in some specific areas. The entire room felt cold, almost unbearably so. The walls where encompassed in glowing green vines that seemed to be growing from the center of his bedroom all the way up to the ceiling.

It almost felt like he was burried underground

At this point, Regulus was sure he was having some sort of psychotic breakdown. All the details were oh so vivid. The branches where all engraved with sirkular patterns with strange sybols, that were unlike anything he had ever seen before. He felt the urge to reach out and touch, to feel the rough tree bark against his fingertips, to see if his touch would have any effect on the glow. Regulus somehow knew that it would…

He turned his head, resisting the urge to reach out, knowing damn well he would fucking regret it, Regulus may not have known why, but he sure as hell wasn’t keen on finding out. In that moment, his gaze fell on the bay window seat in the corner of his room. It was quite ironic really, that his favourite spot in the entire cottage, where he spent most of his leasure time was the only space dervoid of his senseless delusions.

Did Regulus think he was being dramatic? Of course. Running on less than 3 hours of sleep and a severe case of coffee withdrawal will do that to you.

The bay window started calling to him, beckoning him to come closer. There was no clear voice, but rather an intense feeling. Regulus looked down, having felt a sudden cold chill, and saw that one of his feet had unconsciously touched the ground while the other was on it’s way down as well. He staggered back until he hit his head on the wooden bedpost with a loud thud. The back of his head ached and his vision blurred further, the room started spinning and just when Regulus was sure he would pass out, he felt the cold floor beneath his feet again. He dragged himself backwards until he felt his back collide with the bedpost, without injuring his scull this time, grabbing whatever he could reach to hold himself in place.

Regulus knew logically that he wouldn’t be able to keep controll of the situation, not like he had any to begin with. If this really was some kind of psych mania episode, it would only be a matter of time before he lost conciousness, only to wake up in some crappy alleyway, half-naked with a ridiculous tattoo that he would end up regretting for the rest of his life. However, there was another, larger part of him that wanted to be stubborn, that wanted to make this entire shitshow as dificult and infuriating as possible for whatever insistant force torturing his usually level headed mind.

He wasn’t goning to move just because it fucking wanted him to.

It. Could. Go. Eat. Shite.

So he stayed in place, the branches moving in tandem, wrapping around each other. Vines upon vines, the sounds becoming increasingly loud. While Regulus watched the area surrounding him become more suffocating, the bay window only became more inviting in comparison. Which increased his rising unease by about tenfold. Regulus snapped his eyes shut, willing himself to calm down. He could still see flickers of that glowing green light behind his eyelids.

Time went by slowly, almost painfully so. If someone asked Regulus later how much time he spent sitting there, he wouldn’t be able to answer them.

Then, it hit Regulus with a start. The green light had faded out, leaving nothing but darkness in it’s wake. As he slowly began to open his eyes-

Fuck

Regulus felt as though his heart had stopped in his chest.

Looking at the space that used to be his bedroom, was now a large, open body of water. Before he could really process his surroundings, Regulus, to his horror, felt his lungs being slowly filled with water. He scrambled to hold his breath, but could feel himself chocking on the little oxygen he had left. Regulus couldn’t think straight, his eyes stung and his limbs felt heavy.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a light. It was weak and flickering, but it it was something. Regulus reached out his arms and began using them to move the water to his sides and push himself upward, his legs felt frozen in place... No, not froze-

Regulus turned his head to the side when he felt something pull at his ankles. He stilled at the sight. The two bony hands grabbing him were connected to an almost humanoid looking creature. He tried resisting, to no avail. Regulus turned his head away, looking forward trying, and failing, to formulate some kind of plan.

The grip on his ankle tightened And multiplied. He refused to look back a second time. He continued to push himself upward, exhausted from the weight trying to drag him down. Regulus was only a couple a feet away from the light when he had a sudden epiphany.

If this was really a manic induced hallucination conjured up by his mind, would getting to the light really make any difference? What are the odds that when he got to the top, another possibly more horrifying image would be there waiting for him?

So Regulus, being the cynical, masochistic bastard that he was, stopped moving. Exhaling the breath he had been so desperately holding and letting his body be pulled into the deep, neverending darkness that awaited him. He almost felt at peace with the all encompassing quiet and stillness.

Too bad it didn’t last.

Regulus felt his back collide with a hard surface and inhaled a sharp breath at the hard impact, that would most likely leave him with dark bruises for the foreseeable future.

Opening his eyes, he could see a blurry figure making it’s way towards him. He squinted his eyes when he noticed how oddly familiar it looked. Regulus began to realize why as it came closer...

Bloody hell ugh

“THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?!” It was the woman from the day before, looking nothing like the professional she had claimed so adamantly to be. Gone was the somewhat sophisticated suitdress, replaced by a long silk black dress and jewelry with green gemstones that shined in the moonlight. She looked like she had travelled from another time period.

“Why in all hell- Why did you do that?! Has being raised a muggle stripped you of all your survival instincts?!” She shouted straight at him, waving her hands in the air like a damned lunatic. “I was even generous enough to give you a clear way out! But did you take it??!?! Nooo!! You just floated there and drowned like a little bitch.” She looked as insane as a person could possibly look without ranging on cartoonish proportions, but somehow still made her little psychotic rant seem purposeful and elegant. Regulus was, quite frankly, a bit impressed.

“The fuck did you just call me? Is that some new slur you brits came up with? Cause that’s bloody cymrophobic, you cold-tea drinking fucks.” He flipped her the middle finger for more emphasis, feeling some relief at how steady his voice sounded. Regulus felt like he was moments away from collapsing from exhaustion into the wet mossy grass, but his back stayed straight. “ The fuck are you doing outside my bloody house? Did you follow me home?” He appeared calm, maybe a bit bored even. At least he thought he did.

The crazy woman stopped in her tracks. Gone was the manic look that accompanied the scolding rant she had been yelling straight into his eardrumms.

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” She asked, ignoring his question completely, her head tilted to the side, a contemplative look on her face. On anyone else it could be brushed off as simple confusion. Not on her though... There was frustration there.

 “Excuse me?”

CRACK

His voice came out sounding a tad more scratchy than he wanted it to.

One side of her mouth pulled up into a smirk, looking like she got exactly the answer she wated. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re good at hiding it. No muggle would be able to tell the difference, might fool some skilled wizards, even.” She conceded, with a small nod of acknowledgement.

Regulus looked at her, absolutely dumbfounded. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?!?!’ He thought to himself. He was still running on a mixture of pure adrenaline, shock and exhaustion. The theory that this was all due to some fucked up manic episode was slowly slipping out of his hands.

Regulus blinked, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “... Wizards? As in” He made some sircular movements with his right hand, like he was holding an imaginary wand made out of thin air. “Abracadabra?” He asked hesitantly, hoping she wasn’t that particular brand of crazy.

“It’s actually pronounced ‘Avada Kedavera’” She corrected with an almost proud expression.

Regulus just looked at her with a blank expression, letting his mind process what he had just heard.

Fuuuck. He was stuck in a bloody forest, in the middle of fucking nowhere with a goddamn looney.

 “Close, but you really need to work on your pronunciation.” Her gaze wandered until it landed on a long wooden stick in her right hand, while an creepy smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. “The unforgivables are the ones you shouldn’t be sloppy with.” The lady swiftly spun around, taking a few steps forward while stabbing the wooden stick into the birdsnest hairdo on top of her head. It looked like she had been pulling and grabbing the strands in frustration. “ Lucky you’ve got an expert to guide you through the dark arts, dear cousin.”

“Is this some new tactic to recruit potential new students? Cause, if so, you really freaking suck arse at your job.” Regulus broke inn, trying to steer the conversation onto more newtral topics until either whatever psychiatric institute or mental asylum she escaped from came to reclaim her or he himself woke up from this absolute nightmare. Either option was acceptable. “I’d recomend a new career path.”

“Highly unlikely. I’m very skilled at my craft, built my reputation on it.” She grinned. “Made quite the name for myself.” Her eyes bored into his skull, a stare that would leave most menn sweating bullets, which Regulus would have noticed if he was paying attention to her. Luckily for him, his attention was directed entirely elsewhere.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Regulus spoke dismissivly, examining his clothes, still a bit shellshocked they weren’t even a little damp. The water had felt so real.... “What is the name you speak so highly of?” He asked, glancing at her with a raised eyebrow.

“I introduced myself to you yesterday.” Bellatrix answered, with an eyebrow raise of her own, looking terribly unimpressed with him. “You know my name.”

“The head trauma I must have received during my fall out of the sky must have affected my memory, I’m afraid.” Regulus explained with an apologetic shrug that felt disgenuine, probably because it was.

“It’s Bella.”

“That doesn’t suit you.”

“It’s short for Bellatrix.”

“That does suit you.” Regulus replied, his voice deadpan.

She smiled at that. “I will admit, you’re handling this a lot better than I originally thought.” She huffed, stretching her arms on each of her sides. The forrest seemed to be reacting to her movements. Almost... mimicking them?

Bellatrix sighed self-depricatingly, kicking at the ground. “I’m gonna be honest. I’m a bit disappointed. I was really looking forward to listening to to the screams of absolute terror! I even brought a memory orb! This has been truly, truly disappointing.” She pulled out what looked like a crystal ball from her dress and, very unceremoniously, shoved it in Regulus’s face. “The precious memories! The blackmail material!” Bellatrix looked absolutely crestfallen, like she was in real physical pain at the thought of having missed such an opportunity.

“I’m sorry my reaction wasn’t entertaining enough for you.” Regulus stated with false sympathy.

She scoffed. “Aren’t you just a hand-wrapped gift from Salazar Slytherin himself.” She replied sarcastically, her face scrunched up into a forced grin. “Alright, if you’re so clever, why am I here?” Bellatrix asked as she started walking in slow circles around him. A flash of uncertainty passed over his features, so subtle it was almost unnoticeable. She caught it. There was no doubt about it. Regulus could tell by her manic grin, more intense than he had ever seen it.

“I could show you…” She grabbed his shoulder. Regulus tried to take a startled step back. He hadn’t noticed her getting nearer until it was too late. She leaned closer to his ear and whispered. “Apparition can be challenging the first time.” Then paused, her grin widening, the grip on his shoulder tightenin. “I’d recommend holding your breath.”

Bellatrix snapped her fingers and everything went dark.