Regulus Black-1980
His dark silhouette faded into the shadows, each stride a muffled thud against the damp stone. The cave, a gaping maw in the mountain, swallowed him in oppressive darkness. The water, cold and viscous, clung to his body like tentacles, hindering every movement. His breath, a convulsive gasp, mixed with the echo of his own heart hammering against his ribs.
Without hesitation, he plunged into the water, the cold wrapping around him like a shroud. The struggle was brutal, desperation a monster consuming him from within. With one last, superhuman effort, he managed to break free from the inferi and surfaced, the lifeless body of his friend clutched to his chest.
With an Apparition spell, he vanished, carrying with him the hope of saving Regulus.
In the Black mansion, Kreacher was startled to see Snape enter with the lifeless body of his young master. The elf, eyes full of tears, asked,
—What has happened to the master?
Snape, his face pale and eyes bloodshot, did not answer. In a hoarse voice, he commanded,
—All the potions! Right now!
And while the elf hurried to obey, Snape began performing resuscitation maneuvers, each movement charged with palpable tension. Time stopped, every second an eternity. Regulus’s life hung by a thread, and Snape would fight until his last breath to save it.
Fortunately, the resuscitation worked, and Regulus's chest began to rise and fall slowly, but Severus knew this was only a temporary respite. He had to invent a potion, one that would not only keep him alive but also heal the deep wound the inferi had left on his soul. With each ingredient he added to the cauldron, he felt a crushing weight on his heart. He knew he was playing with dark forces and that the price might be steep.
Kreacher, with tear-filled eyes, watched as his young master clung to life. Each potion administered was a small victory but also a reminder of the fragility of existence.
“It’s ready,” Snape said, looking at the dark green potion bubbling in the cauldron. “I believe this will save Regulus,” he murmured as he poured the potion into a small silver goblet. The drink gave off a bitter and strange aroma, but Severus didn’t hesitate to give it to Regulus.
Regulus’s body reacted immediately. His breathing became deeper and more regular, and color returned to his pale lips. However, Severus knew that wasn’t all. Examining Regulus’s magical core with his wand, he sensed a desolate void. The encounter with the inferi had left a deep mark on his magical soul. “His core is weakened,” Snape murmured, his voice heavy with worry, knowing that if he didn’t fix this soon, Regulus would lose his magic, and he couldn’t let that happen.
Severus prepared himself, gathering mental strength. With trembling hands, he placed one over Regulus’s heart and the other over his abdomen. Closing his eyes, he began chanting in Latin, his voice resonating in the room. “Oh, Nox, mother of magic, I offer you my power, my soul, my magic, and all that I am. Save the person in my hands; take my magic and restore his.”
A thick, bluish mist began to fill the room, wrapping Severus and Regulus in an ethereal halo. The mist smelled of salt and damp earth, pulsing with ancient energy. Severus felt as if his very essence was dissolving, flowing into Regulus.
Severus felt exhausted, his life force draining, but he held on, refusing to give up. He repeated the chant over and over, letting his magic flow. His vision blurred, black dots danced before his eyes, but he cared for nothing except Regulus’s body beneath his hands. He had a mission, and he would see it through.
An intense heat coursed through his body as if he were being consumed from within. The room began to tremble, paintings fell from the walls, and a crack opened in the ceiling. Severus felt a sharp pain in his chest, as though someone were tearing his heart out. Nevertheless, he persisted, his voice resounding in the room with a supernatural strength.
In his mind, he saw images of a woman dressed in white, with eyes shining like stars. She was the mother of magic, Nox, offering him a choice. He could save Regulus, but in return, he would have to give up a part of his soul. Without hesitation, Severus accepted.
And without further ado, Severus Snape, the youngest Potions Master in history, collapsed before Kreacher’s astonished eyes, while Regulus Black, in his unconsciousness, felt safer and more loved than ever.