Sweet Revenge
Regulus
The last day had felt like a blur.
After Narcissa had called him to inform him about what had occurred in the streets around the Ministry of Magic, Evan’s injuries and Barty’s capture, Regulus had gone to visit Evan at the Malfoy Manor to make sure he was alright, and had later found himself alone in a house that felt way too empty without his friends, as Narcissa had preferred for Evan to remain at her place for not more than another day, so she could check on his conditions as he healed, since she wasn’t involved in any of Voldemort’s designs.
It was evening when Regulus received the news he’d been waiting for longer than he liked to admit. He’d just gotten out of the bathtub and got dressed, ascertaining how the clothes were beginning to fit just a little better, an imperceptible improvement he knew wasn’t destined to last, and he was just about to grab the hairdryer when he heard the first knock.
At first, he thought he’d just imagined it, so he went on rummaging through the drawers wondering where the hell had Barty stored the hairdryer. He’d almost given up on his research when he finally spotted it under a green towel. He pulled it out, and untangled the wire, ready to plug it in the electrical socket when the sound replicated.
He remained silent to check whether it really was his mind playing some tricks on him, but no. Something, someone, was definitely knocking on what sounded like wood. And the noise came from downstairs. Regulus put down the towel he’d used to rub his hair and carefully walked out of the room. Could they be Aurors trying to break in, or maybe Narcissa or Lucius coming to update him on Evan’s conditions so that they could orchestrate Barty’s rescue?
He climbed down the stairs and the knocking intensified, a persistent sound like the one of rain drops pouring on a windowsill.
“Master! Master Black!” a croaky voice echoed, and he froze.
Kreacher.
Regulus hurried to the door and opened it, finding the house-elf with his fist raised, ready to hit the door again. “Master Black!” he exclaimed as soon as he saw him. And when he met his eyes… anger. Fear. The same feelings he’d seen in them multiple times at the Blacks’ Mansion, after his parents’ lovely treatment towards him and Sirius, something Kreacher had never been able to bear.
“Kreacher” Regulus stepped aside, letting him in. “Is everything okay?”.
The elf instantly rushed in and he closed the door behind them. “What happened? Is someone following you? Did You-Know-Who do something?”.
Kreacher wrapped his thin arms around Regulus’ knees, who looked down on him, perplexed. “Kreacher was sure he wouldn’t see master Black ever again” he said as Regulus reassuringly patted his head. “You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re safe here”.
“That monster… he… he attempted to kill Kreacher”.
He could feel colour draining from his face.
‘Promise me you won’t hurt me. Promise me you’ll give him back to me alive and well’.
‘Don’t worry Young Black, he’s in good hands’.
‘Promise me’.
‘I promise’.
“He what?”.
“We’re in danger, master Black. The whole wizarding world is in terrible danger” Kreacher continued frantically, ignoring his words. Regulus crouched down in front of him. “What do you mean? What did he do to you?”.
“It’s a long story to tell, master Black. But Kreacher needs your help. They all do”.
“They? They who?”.
“Master Black’s friends”.
“I know Evan and Barty are both in a difficult situation, and I swear I’m working on a plan to get Barty out of prison before they condemn him to the Dementor Kiss, I just need a little more time-”.
Kreacher shook his head. “No. That’s not what Kreacher meant. Kreacher was talking about master Black’s other friends”.
“Narcissa?”.
“No. Master Black’s brother and his friends”.
A bell rang in his mind. James. James was in danger.
“Tell me everything Kreacher”.
⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅
It didn’t take him long to prepare some black tea for Kreacher to warm himself up, as he knew he loved that drink. In the meanwhile, Regulus could feel the elf’s eyes on his back, studying him attentively. He was eager to find out more, to uncover the truth behind his evasive words. As they settled down on the couch, steamy cups in hand, Regulus wasted no time and went straight to the point. “What happened, Kreacher? What did he do this time?”.
“The Dark Lord… he asked Kreacher to accompany him somewhere. He said he needed an assistant during the journey, and that Kreacher fitted the role perfectly. That he needed to check some magical barriers and needed Kreacher’s help. And, at first, he asked so kindly Kreacher couldn’t refuse. Of course, Kreacher could have never refused, anyway. Though Kreacher didn’t suspect anything actually bad would happen during that trip”.
“Is that what he said? To go on a journey with him?” Regulus interrupted him.
“Exactly” Kreacher nodded. “We arrived at our destination: the Crystal Cave”. He’d heard about that place before, and he was pretty sure Voldemort had mentioned it too.
“Kreacher followed the Dark Lord inside the Cave, where a stone basin stood, in its precise centre. At first, Kreacher noticed nothing strange, apart from the dark water that surrounded the place: Kreacher was sure he could hear murmurs rising from the waves, brought to his ear by the wind. But the Dark Lord didn’t seem bothered by those voices, not even the slightest bit. So, Kreacher ignored them too. Then, the Dark Lord asked Kreacher to look inside the basin: there was something inside it, a crystalline liquid pretty similar to water. At the bottom of the basin, there was nothing. The Dark Lord later commanded Kreacher to drink the potion. Kreacher refused, though he insisted, saying Kreacher had nothing to worry about. Kreacher still didn’t believe him, so the Dark Lord forced him to drink the potion”.
He’d lied. That bastard had lied about the absence of any potential dangers. He’d openly lied to him, breaking yet another fucking promise. “Go on Kreacher, finish your story” Regulus invited him to continue. The tea was getting colder in the cup, though he didn’t care; he was sure he would throw up if he drank even the slightest sip.
“Well, Kreacher could do nothing but obey. And then, the worst happened. Kreacher began to feel utterly unwell, his chest ached, his mouth felt dry even though he’d just drunk. The Dark Lord was too busy to pay attention to whatever was happening around him; Kreacher clearly saw him putting something at the base of the basin: an emerald, shining locket with a serpent on it. Kreacher clearly heard him murmur something like: ‘What will you do now to stop me, Albus Dumbledore? I’ll take your stupid Order down, one member at a time, and you’ll be able to do nothing but wait for your death to come’”.
An uncomfortable shiver slithered down Regulus’ spine, and he straightened his back.
“Then, Kreacher started to have some… hallucinations. Scary ones. Really bad. And he felt so dehydrated he was sure he would die. So, he asked the Dark Lord for help. But he ignored Kreacher’s pleas and just walked away. Before leaving, he told Kreacher: ‘You’ll die here, elf. Along with my secret’. The thirst became unbearable, so Kreacher knelt by the shore to drink from the waters. Then, they appeared”.
“Who?”.
“The Inferi”.
Blood froze in Regulus’ veins. He’d heard about those creatures at Hogwarts: corpses, nothing but dead bodies bewitched by a dark wizard’s curse through the art of necromancy, destined to forever follow their orders.
“They tried to get to Kreacher, to drag him down to the depths of the waters. But Kreacher couldn’t. He’d promised master Black he would come back immediately after completing his task. So Kreacher Disapparated from the Cave and appeared back at the Blacks’ Manor. Kreacher immediately hurried here to tell everything to master Black”.
“Kreacher, I… I’m so sorry for what happened. It’s all my fault”.
“Don’t worry, master Black. Kreacher had promised you he would come back, and he did. For a moment, Kreacher did fear the spell wouldn’t work, he has to admit it, though it did, and that’s all that matters”.
“He’ll pay for this. He’ll pay for what he did to you. For having fucking lied to me” he clenched his fist.
Regulus knew exactly what the amulet Kreacher had told him about was: one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes. A dark artefact created for the purpose of being immortal, just as he’d read in Barty’s book. He’d started to plan on finding Voldemort’s Horcruxes right after finishing the volume, determined to destroy them, even if it would cost his life in exchange for his loved ones’ freedom. And now, he knew exactly where one was hidden. A place the Dark Lord wanted nobody to find out about.
“Kreacher”.
“Yes, master Black?” he put down his black tea.
“Oh, feel free to finish your tea first, or it’ll get cold”.
“Aren’t you drinking any?” he inquired, curiously glancing towards his cup, still filled to the rim. Regulus shook his head. “I’m not thirsty, really”. Then, he pushed the cup towards him. “Have it, if you want”. He didn’t feel like eating nor drinking anything, his stomach too twisted with emotion and a mixture of concern and pure adrenaline, a determination he’d rarely been feeling lately.
He waited for Kreacher to finish drinking, fist still clenched, resting on his thigh. The elf’s attention fixed on him as he waited for him to ask his question. Regulus licked his lips.
“You’d be able to head back to the Crystal Cave if you wanted, right?”.
Kreacher nodded. “Yes, Kreacher could. It’s a stunning, mysterious place, though so, so deadly. Kreacher wouldn’t exactly recommend it for a trip”.
Regulus swallowed, locking eyes with him. Finally, the chance to put his plan into practice had arrived. The moment of his sweet revenge.
“Do you think you could bring me there?”.