Icarus Rewritten

Regulus sat in the floor of his room, slumped against his bed at the

Grimmauld place. After leaving the Black Manor in flames. His cane beside him.

He could hear his mother’s sobs calling out for his dead husband. Walburga has managed to fight the poison, but her will won’t keep her alive for much longer.

Regulus thought about the conversation he had with Dumbledore before he left for the winter vacations.

“You don’t like me,” Regulus had said, his eyes not leaving Albus’.

“Excuse me?” The old man has asked.

“I remind you of someone, you don’t like that. Who do I remind you of?”

Dumbledore looked like he was fighting himself but eventually he gave in and said, “My nephew.”

“Credence?” If Albus was surprised that Regulus knew his name he didn’t show it, “Who else?”

“A boy, a student here.” He sighed, blinking and taking a bite of his biscuit.

“Riddle?” At that name the older wizard did falter.

“Yes,” he whispered so low that almost Regulus didn’t hear.

“You could have helped them,” he had said coldly almost frosty.

“I couldn’t have stoped fate.”

“The gods had to stop Achilles after Patroclus’ death because Troy wasn’t meant to fall then. He had changed fate why couldn’t you?” Regulus asked, there was nothing kind about his words.

“Well, I’m not him.”

“Because you didn’t try.”

Dumbledore didn’t dignify that with a response. But his silence just confirmed what Regulus already knew.

“Is that why you hate me? I’m paying for their sins as well as my parent’s, as well as my own.”

“When you have a child, they inherit many things, your name, your money, your power, but also your sins.” Albus sighed.

“Is that your kind of original sin?” Regulus had asked, his hands clutching the arm rest.

“Perhaps,” the old man said.

“When are you going to forgive me?”

“When you ask for it. When you deserve it.”

Regulus washed his hands, trying to get the blood and feeling of poison under his skin, before grabbing his cane and heading to his mother’s quarters.

His cane and footsteps residing through the house, when he saw her, hunched over the corpse, he smiled.

She looked at him with disgust.

He fell to his knees dropping his cane.

“I’m tired,” He whispered, the cuts and blood around his face that he got while fighting Riddle made him look mad but instead, he was sad and tired. He was oh, so tired.

“I’m tired to death,” he said, tears streaming down his eyes, his heart pounding against his ribs which surely will leave a bruise tomorrow, “of only being seen like your soldier.”

“I’m broken, tainted, and tortured,” his voice was steady like he wasn’t sobbing, “by you.”

“I will never be my brother,” he cried, his hands shaking as he gripped his cane .

“We wanted you to be better than him,” Walburga said, with a small hiccup.

Regulus stood up, albeit shakily.

“I’ll never be better than him, no one in this godforsaken house will be better than him. So please stop trying. You’re only killing me.” His voice was desperate and pleading for her to see his situation.

“I saved you,” Walburga snarls.

Regulus grips his hair and mutters ‘no, no, no,’ over and over.

“How did you save me, mother?” He asks something so very fragile tainting his voice, fury coming in waves.

“You wanted a sheep but raised to wolves and are surprised when they bite.” Regulus snarls.

“You made me the judge, jury and executioner.” He said getting his wand out, “now it’s time for your reckoning mother.”

His head was screaming at him, his eyes hurt. She grabbed her wand and send spell after spell at him, but it looked like the gods had been looking after him.

“You won’t kill me,” she gasped, trying to get away from him.

“The price for my freedom. For Sirius’ freedom is blood. I am willing to pay it.”

He sent spell after spell even though her body had already hit the floor.

One of her spells had gone wrong and hit a mirror in front of him, he now grab a shard and looked at him through it.

His grey eyes, looked feral, his first curls had become white, he would had to die them later. He stood up grabbing his cane and destroying the shard.

He hummed as he left and headed to the cinema.

—————————

On the train back to Hogwarts, Barty sad beside him, the others in front of him as they told the stories of their holidays.

Regulus had been lost in his head until Barty had squeezed his wrist carefully not touching the skin and asking, “Are you okay?”

Regulus nodded, it wasn’t a secret that in the holidays his parents died. No one knew the details, and they were too afraid to ask.

Regulus was a smart man, he had bought the Daily Prophet, making sure no news he didn’t want get reported. He also bought Ministry shares and two big French muggle drug cartels, he owns two bars in New York, a port in London, and a wine company.

Regulus knew he had to have roots if he wanted to be successful. So he did, in the muggle or magic world, Regulus was a very powerful person, dangerous too.

Because he nurtured secrets like it was a child, held onto grudges and deals like they were hands and guarded his heart in a safe.

Barty was going to say something else but it was time for Regulus to go to the prefects cabin.

He headed there, cane and all, he was relatively late but not the last one to arrive.

All of the prefects listened as they heard a particularly mean Ravenclaw girl bark orders.

Regulus got paired with Lupin, Evans with Snaps and so on.

Remus and Regulus patrolled the train in a comfortable silence, they both got along, this wasn’t the first time they got paired together for rounds, not to mention they studied together.

Remus in question looked a lot healthier than he did before the holidays, he looks taller, less skinny.

“What happened to the leg?” He finally asked.

“What happened to the face?” Regulus replied calmly, gesturing to the new scar. Remus huffed out a laughter.

Regulus knew what Remus was, they both sat down in an empty cabin.

“Bad moon?” Regulus finally asked, lighting a cigarette, taking a drag and passing it to the werewolf.

“Definitely not a good one,” he huffed. Regulus hummed signaling that he heard the older boy.

“What about you?”

“Quidditch stunt went bad,” Regulus lied, Lupin nodded.

“Are you going to be able to play?” This time Regulus nodded.

And they fell silent again, passing the cigarette back and forth, watching as they arrived to Hogwarts.

—————————

After dinner, Regulus went to Dumbledore’s office. The gargoyles let him in, like they knew he was coming. The cane was silent as Regulus stepped forward.

He finally sat down and he hadn’t left Dumbledore’s field of vision once.

They both stared each other down into finally, predictably, Dumbledore broke the silence.

“Why are you here Mr. Black?”

“I’m here to ask for forgiveness,” Regulus replied, his voice hoarse, he leaned forward and dropped Riddle’s diary onto the desk. It had a big hole on it.

Albus blanched comically at the sight of it. He grabbed it and asked, “How many did he made?”

“Too many,” Regulus leaned back in his chair, his cane in his hands.

“I take that he is dead.”

“Yes, was that not what you wanted?” Regulus asked, observing Albus.

He never replied, so Regulus asked something else, “Do I get your forgiveness?”

“Ask your brother,” Dumbledore’s voice was shaky, but calm.

Regulus stood up, and started leaving but before he disappeared to the halls of Hogwarts, he said over his shoulder, “A child who is not cared for in a village will burn it down to feels its warmth.”

“Is that a threat?” Albus asked, his eyebrows raised.

Regulus licked his lips and said, “A warning.”

—————————

Regulus dreamt of Icarus and him in a beach.

Both burnt and tired, with water in their lungs.

“Do you regret it?” Regulus asked, his eyes dazed but watching the sunrise.

“Falling?” Icarus said. He nodded affirmatively.

“No.” The blond boy said, his eyes not leaving Regulus.

“Why?”

“Love is vicious, it consumes you, it burns you. It makes you ache and it seeps into the marrow of your bones. It’s almost cannibalistic in its efforts, but it’s so monstrously lovely.” Icarus replied  looking at the sun with so much yearning.

“Have you ever felt like that?” Icarus looked at Regulus,

“Can’t say that I have.” Regulus replied a sort of longing in his house.

“Find it, fall for it, and burn the world for him, for me.”

The fallen angel look at Regulus and the wizard stared back a promise in his eyes.

Regulus stared away, looking into the abyss, “I’ll eat the world raw, for him, for you.” He promised.

He felt Icarus touch his arm, he didn’t mind his touch. It wasn’t cold and dead like the inferi, but burning.

“Don’t regret the fall.”

“Never.”

Regulus stared at the abyss and for once the abyss stared back at him.

—————————

That day Regulus walked the halls with a blaze in his eyes and crashed into one James Potter.

Regulus struggled to pick up his books, but James being the saint he is, helped him. Regulus grabbed the books but their touch lingered.

It burned familiarly, he found the sun.

And for once Regulus thought it wasn’t so bad to fall, to burn.

—————————

When Icarus fell, he looked at the sun wishing it fell with him.

But he was not sorry.

Because his love was a vicious one.

And he ate the world raw.

————————— Icarus’ revenge.