Dark Water
Kreacher trembled as the pathetically small boat glided over the dark water. He had told Master that he could Apparate them directly to the unnaturally smooth stone island in the underground lake, but Master insisted on starting at the entrance to the Dark Lord’s dreadful cave. Master said he had to know what to expect of the Dark Lord’s magic.
Kreacher’s gaze started to drift down to the green-lit water, to the pale shapes beneath.
“Don’t look,” Master said, placing his hand on Kreacher’s bony shoulder. Kreacher obediently snapped his eyes back to the glowing green mist in front of them.
Master Regulus also faced ahead, standing rigidly straight in his green robes.
Green, green, green. Green and black filled the endless lake. Green and black and doom. Green and black and death.
After an eternity and all too soon the boat grinded up against the island. Master Regulus stepped out of the boat and Kreacher, as was his duty, followed after.
Master Regulus walked cautiously, his wand drawn, to the luminous stone basin, filled once again with that horrible green potion.
A weak moan escaped Kreacher’s treacherous lips. He moved to punish himself, but Master shot him a look.
“Remember my orders, Kreacher.”
Do not punish yourself when you’re with me, or by yourself. Don’t hurt yourself anymore. Kreacher straightened up and nodded. “Yes, Master.” He croaked.
Regulus smiled faintly. He turned back to the pedestal. Tentatively he reached out and poked at the liquid. His finger bumped against an invisible barrier. Chewing his lip, young Master Regulus tried spell after counter-spell to empty the basin, or retrieve the necklace from its murky depths.
Kreacher stood by, dread building with every failed attempt. No, not failed. Master can never fail. Kreacher must remember that.
But after a long, long stretch of time, Master Regulus finally sighed in defeat. “Well, that’s it then. No other options.” Master raised his wand and conjured a crystal drinking glass.
Kreacher tensed and waited for Master to turn on him.
Master turned.
And he knelt on the ground in front of Kreacher.
“Kreacher,” Master Regulus looked him in the eye. “I’m going to ask you to do something really hard. Will you swear to me that you will do exactly as I say?”
Kreacher nodded. He had to.
“I need to get that Horcrux, it’s very important. And,” he drew a gold locket out of an inner pocket in his robes. “I need to replace it with this. I need you to do that for me. And then I need you to leave me behind.”
Kreacher’s mouth fell open. “Master! No, I can’t!” His mouth snapped shut and his eyes bulged at dishonouring his Master.
Master Regulus smiled sadly again. “Yes, Kreacher, you must. You will take the real Horcrux and destroy it, and you will never tell anyone. You will consider yourself completely innocent of the affair.”
Kreacher shook his head violently, biting his tongue. No, Kreacher can’t-Kreacher must-Kreacher can’t- must obey Master-no no no-
Master’s hands gripped Kreacher. “I need you to do this, Kreacher. Please.”
Kreacher stilled, the storm in his head quieting. He nodded again.
“Thank you.” Master Regulus pressed the locket into Kreacher’s hand, then stood, shedding his robe and leaving it piled on the ground. His thin frame blended into the darkness, clothed in a black turtleneck sweater and black Muggle jeans. His pale skin stood out against all the black. All the black except the bronze ring that gleamed on his slender finger when he raised the goblet.
He pocketed his wand in his back pocket. He glanced back at Kreacher. “I also need you to keep forcing this ilk down my throat, until the moment you can safely retrieve and replace the Horcrux.”
Kreacher whined pitifully but nodded once more.
Master Regulus cast him one last smile. “Thank you, Kreacher. You’re an invaluable friend. My one friend.” Then Master dipped his cup into the despicable potion and downed it in one shot.
His eyes glazed over, and Kreacher’s filled with tears.
Master chugged three more glass-fulls before his fingers shook so hard he dropped the glass in the basin. Kreacher lunged forward to keep his Master from falling. Master Regulus braced himself against the pedestal, leaning all his weight on it.
Master Regulus swallowed hard. “Kreacher, another glass, please.” He said with tears dripping down his face.
Kreacher watched in horror as his own gnarled hand filled the crystal cup with poison. He watched his hand lift it to his young, brave Master’s mouth, and tip it in.
Master Regulus swallowed it with obvious difficulty. A harsh sob choked his throat. “Another,” he cried.
“Master, please,” Kreacher protested even as he poured more of the emerald drink right down his Master’s throat.
Master Regulus’ face scrunched and he sank to his knees, silent sobs racking his body.
Kreacher cried too as he forced his Master, his friend, to swallow four more glasses. Master Regulus clapped a hand over his mouth and muffled a wild scream of anguish. Master Regulus swayed and fell backwards. Kreacher dropped the glass with a loud thunk steadied his Master as he laid back on the cold ground, shaking uncontrollably.
Kreacher’s body forced him to refill the glass and he made Master Regulus drink.
“No, no, no, please!” Master sobbed, reaching out for nothing. “Don’t leave me! Please don't leave,” he whispered. “Don’t leave.”
Kreacher returned to the basin, trying to scoop up the last cupful. But as he placed the rim of the cup on the bottom of the basin, all of the deadly green potion, every last drop, funnelled into the glass, leaving a large golden locket, with an S etched into it, sitting dry in the bowl. Kreacher reached into the basin, but an invisible force blocked his fingers from reaching the necklace. He tried to pour the potion onto the floor, but it remained stubbornly in the goblet.
Kreacher kneeled next to his Master Regulus. “Master, drink!” And he held the glass still as Master Regulus drained it. No sooner had he swallowed than he collapsed in a dead faint.
“NO!” Kreacher wailed. He slapped Master’s face, trying to revive him. Master Regulus didn’t even flinch. Kreatcher frantically started to reach for Master’s wand, but he froze.
I need you to leave me behind.
Kreacher sobbed and shook his head, but he was already standing on wobbly legs, trudging to the basin, and replacing the necklaces. Cold washed over him as soon as he closed his fingers around the Horcrux Locket. He held on to it tight and turned, thinking about how he could manipulate his Master’s orders to save Master.
Kreacher screamed as he saw Master crawl to the island’s edge, swiping a handful of water into his mouth. Kreacher ran toward him as slimy white hands reached out and wrapped around his Master.
Master Regulus’ gaze cleared and his red-rimmed eyes met Kreacher’s. “Run!” He yelled, and then was dragged over the edge with a great splash. More white, dead humans crawled out of the water toward Kreacher, and he cried and screamed for his Regulus and he Disapparated with a deafening, world-shattering
Crack!