Regulus could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up, the pit in his stomach sinking deeper as the boat pushed forward through the darkened cave.
His cousin Bella could never keep her mouth shut, and her snickers about being asked by the Dark Lord to assist with some “special project” had his ears perking up. Then when his parents were asked to lend their house elf for an errand, they were quick to comply stating it was an honor to assist their Dark Lord.
However, when Kreature returned, he was a mess. He was covered in deep bloody scratches and bruised handprints were covering his arms and legs. His mumbling so incoherent, Regulus only caught one word, ‘horcrux’. A horcrux, as it turned out, was used to split one’s soul into multiple pieces. Though the process was vaguely referenced in books Regulus found in the family library, he could only shudder at what could be required for such a process.
Regulus, though a Slytherin, and the Noble Black family heir, he wasn’t indoctrinated as he appeared to everyone. ‘Toujours Pur’, always pure, the Black family motto that was beaten into him since he was a child. What absolute rubbish, he thought to himself bitterly, but of course his self preservation was stronger than his need to rebel and he kept that opinion close to his chest.
He let his mind wander at the possibilities of what this horcrux could mean to the Dark Lord, and what he would do if he got his hands on it. His mind flittered past the idea of giving it to the Order. A group leading the charge of the Dark Lord’s opposition, led by none other than Albus Dumbledore. Could he go and give something so valuable away without getting anything out of it in return. Maybe he could leverage it himself. Avoid getting the dark mark he knows he’s slated to receive in the coming weeks.
He felt giddy at the thought that he might have a chance at avoiding having any part in this war. He may have the self preservation to have kept his parents placated, unlike his older brother, but he also wants to live his life on his own terms and this could be his chance. He also got a recount of what happened with the Dark Lord with Kreature, and the idea of not only saving himself but getting revenge at the same time for someone he considered to be the only family he had, had him walking on air.
Luckily all it took was a request turned into a slight order, and he and Kreature snuck off in the middle of the night.
Regulus hated the idea that he brought Kreature back to this place, after what he went through the first time, but he needed to get his hands on this horcrux. His future depended on it.
As the boat continued though the cave, and reached its destination, Regulus wasn’t sure what he was looking at. The boat stopped on a small isle, only big enough for two grown men to stand comfortably. In the middle stood a stone basin, faintly glowing green.
As Regulus stepped from the boat, hearing Kreature’s faint mumbling coming from behind him. Ignoring the house elf’s blatant discontent at Regulus’s actions, he continued to the basin and looked down to see a locket at the bottom. Without hesitation, he reached for the object, only to come away with nothing but a wet hand to show for it.
He then remembered what Kreature had said during his recount of his time with the Dark Lord. This is a potion and it must be drunk. His heartbeat quickened. He also remembered everything Kreature said this potion made him feel. The pain, the fear, the thirst, having to relive his worst memories. Regulus wanted to believe he was strong enough to withstand this all, his desire to live free outweighing any pain.
“Kreature, my friend. I have one last order for you. Please once I finish this potion, if things go awry afterwards, get yourself out. Take the locket, tell mother and father nothing that has happened here, and then destroy it.”
Before he could lose his resolve, Regulus turned towards the soft glowing green light, and reached down to grab the small cup at the lip of the basin. As he took the first sip, nothing felt different, but he knew it would come.
Another sip, and a small cramp started in his stomach. On the third drink, the cramp grew to a sharp pang. He could also feel the thirst crawl its way up his throat, his mouth feeling dry.
Another drink and the pain suddenly deepened and he felt his knees buckle. The dryness and thirst made him feel like his throat was being clawed at.
He took a deep breath, leaning heavily against the basin. Another drink and he screamed out in pain. Not just the physical pain, but suddenly his mind was filled with memories of imperius and cruciatus curses. Of screaming not only on the inside of his head but being pulled out of someone who he loved.
He shakily brought his hand up, and took another drink. Tears streamed down his face, the pain not only in his memories but also from the potion he was willing poured into his mouth. He felt dizzy, barely holding himself up enough to look at how much was left in the basin.
His memories swam with him with his mother behind him as he was ordered to continue the cruciatus curse on Sirius. The break in between lasted shorter and shorter as he was ordered over and over again to curse his elder brother. He wanted to cry out, he wanted to toss his wand to the ground, but the imperius curse he was under wouldn’t allow it.
He came back to himself wanting nothing more than to curl up, and drown in the sorrow, the pain. He looked up to see Kreature, and shakily brought himself up enough to see what was left in the basin.
Two more drinks, and he would be done. He barely got the cup up to his lips for another small sip and as the potion slipped past his lips, he felt the sob bubble out. He felt as if his insides were made of lava, the fire flowing deep in his veins. His mind flashing back to hurting Sirius. To be the one to cause the one person who had always been there for him the worst pain. Tears flowed freely down his face and he felt like he was drowning from the inside out, not only through his tears but even drowning in the fire in his veins.
One last drink, and this will all be over. That’s all Regulus could think about, even as his mind kept flashing pictures of Sirius, half dead on the floor of the study. Of Regulus taking him to the fire and hoping that someone would be on the other end of it when his brother showed up. Of his own cruciatus curse lasting through into the next morning for what he did.
As he brought the cup to his lips he felt himself collapse to the ground.
“Kreature take the locket,” he ground out as he shook in pain.
As he looked up to check if Kreature was complying, he saw how close to the edge of the isle he was. How close to the water’s edge, where he could take a drink to quench the fire within him, take at least some of the pain away.
As he stared harder at the water’s edge, the urge to drink became unbearable. With one last push, he crawled his way to the edge.
He quickly dipped his cupped hands into the water. As he started to bring his hands back out of the dark water, another pair of hands came out with them. Then another pair of hands behind the first. Before he could even think about what was happening, he was being grabbed by the hands emerging from the depths of the lake.
In his frazzled state, he lost his balance and was immediately surrounded by hands. They were coming from all directions, grabbing hold of any part of his body they could find purchase in and he was being dragged beneath the surface.
He came up for air, and Kreature looked at him and Regulus knew that he was fighting the urge to follow the order that was given to him.
With one last breath, he went to say, go, but what came out was ‘don’t’. And then he was dragged into the depths of the black lake.
He thrashed against the hands, but they were everywhere. If he shook off one pair, another would quickly replace them.
As the light faded out of his sight, all he could think about was how naive he was to think that he would be able to have anything other than a tragic end. Why did he think that he could be free to live his life on his own terms? Look where that gets him, drowning alone in a lake without having left anything to anyone. Without having mattered to anyone.
He slowly stopped fighting, and as the light completely blinked out above him, he thought of only one person. The only person who he had ever loved fully. Sirius, his big brother. He wished that he could see him one last time, to tell him he still loved him no matter what. To let him know that he was still his petite etoile.