Force my hand

“Lord?”

The voice awoke him from his premonitions, foggy visions of a cave that crashed with waves. The undead that fought and the life they claimed. He should feel betrayed but instead he smiles.

“Nagini.” Voldemort finally raised from his desk, it was clean unlike everything else in the room. Bookshelves filled with books, most of them opened on tables or the floor, maps and scrolls laid out with candles holding them down. As Nagini folded a scroll herself she looked towards him hastily. “Gather a group, I need them to collect someone.”

“Some-one? Okay.” She looked curiously at him. “How do you wish for them?”

Voldemort thought for a second, taking the time to think about his plans carefully. “Preferably dead.” He says and wastes no time getting himself ready to leave, writing a small note before walking from his desk.

“Consider it done already.” She quickly replies, watching his every move.

“I won't.” He strolled past her, leaving the note on the books she held.

Nagini takes a second to gather herself before speaking once more, “Do you want someone with you at your meeting?” With her hair tied up it sways from side to side as she thinks.

“No.” He replies back, “I need to do this business alone.” She knew what that meant but it just made her want to go even more. He turns to her and for a second she believes he’s changed his mind. “Make sure to accept that deal Lord Crowley made.”

Before she knows it he’s out of the room in a swift and powerful mist of shadow. “Yes, my Lord..” She whispers to the empty room, unfolding the note to see the name written on there. Left alone to figure out the puzzle of what it means she leaves the room also.
________________________________________

Voldemort, with his air of arrogance and controlled steps, walked through a long corridor. The black walls made it look dim, even with the candles that were lit along the walls. There was door after door that he walked past, each looked the same. Yet he stopped, turning to the left he opened that door.

As he walked in, it was much brighter in the room but not more comforting, a table stood in the middle of the room. A woman sat on the chair attached to it, her eyes watched Voldemort walk into the room. Her dirty blonde hair was knotted and oily, her clothes smelt and her eyes bloodshot.

Voldemort grabbed a cloudy sphere from his robe sleeve, he brought it down to the table and placed it on the slightly sprayed silk that lay there. “How long have you been a Seer, Trelawney?”

She slightly shook her head, “I’m not..”

He hummed, reaching into his robe once more he pulled out an old leather book, “So this isn’t yours?” He slowly placed it on the table and watched as Trelawney eye the book before looking back up at him. “Is it not?” He let his hand fall onto the table, his wand falling into it as it pointed towards her.

“It is.” She answered shakily, as she tried to control her breath.

He stood up, making her flinch, and started to walk along the table. “Lying to try and save yourself, I respect that. If you do it again, I will show you why you shouldn’t and there will be no respect.” He said as he stood over her. “Tell me about the Prophecy.”

‘How does he know?’ Trelawney asked herself, she didn’t know and probably won't find out.

“If you need reminding feel free..” He gestured to the sphere in the middle of the room.

She didn’t want to use that, she wanted to be back in her tower and write small prophecies about the animals in the dark forest. She wished she hadn't told anyone what she saw.

Voldemort had gotten impatient, grabbing her hand he forced in on the sphere. “The prophecy.” He spoke harshly and before she could stop herself the vision of the prophecy was showing itself in the sphere.

“No!” She shouted as she pushed away the sphere, as it broke on the floor Voldemort let go of her hand. She brought it close to her chest as it burned, forcing a prophecy or premonition hurt. It wasn’t natural.

Voldemort hummed as he walked away and towards the wall to her left. He flicked his wand and a curtain started to wind in, showing a wall full of crystal balls. Her eyes widened but not before she heard the curtain being pulled behind her as it came around the other side. All three walls were filled with shelves of crystal balls.

“Perhaps you haven’t seen it yet but you will be telling me that prophecy. How much it hurts and how long it takes, well that is completely up to you.” He picked up a ball and brought it over to the table, putting it down slowly before watching her.

Trelawney eyed the ball as her hands shook, she didn’t know what to do.

________________________________________

Regulus awoke to the sun blazing down on him as it hung in the sky, the grass tickled his neck as it swayed in the shy winds. He raised a hand to rub his eyes, trying to awaken himself and think. As he opened them he couldn't miss the blood that dried on his palm, he sat up and looked down to see his white shirt covered in blood as well. He felt surprised that he had woken up, so he lifted his shirt to see the scratches along his body. Other's deeper than some.

As he moved to stand he knew he was in pain, he could feel it but it was like he couldn’t truly acknowledge it. Like a wall stopped the pain, he could physically feel it. How his back ached and the scratches burned. But he couldn’t feel it.

He didn’t need to breathe through the pain, to tend to his wounds, he just walked. And he kept walking, no thoughts occupied his mind, no feelings overwhelmed him.

The quietness of the countryside didn’t calm him, the trees that danced around him went unnoticed. The breeze that messed with his hair was ignored. All he did was stare forwards as he walked. As if he had been turned into inferi himself, as if he had died himself.

But every breath disputed that, every breath made him burn and ache. As if life was hurting him.

Even as dirt turned to rocks and rocks turned to roads, his mindlessness didn’t end. Every building around him he couldn’t entirely see, it’s not that he couldn’t pay attention… he just didn’t. He moved around them entirely unfazed by the changes to his surroundings, he didn’t focus on the details.

If he did, he would have stopped to wonder where he was. He would have stopped to wonder where the people were. But he didn’t think.

He would have stopped to wonder how long he had been walking for.

But it’s not until someone stood in his way did he stop. Not until multiple people stood in his way.

“Regulus Arcturus Black.” A voice spoke out, he managed to focus on the man speaking and stared straight through him. They had masks on, although they were Death Eaters, Regulus couldn’t recognise any of them. “I think you know why we are here.” He spoke again but he was met with silence once more.

“We're here to kill you!” Another sang out, annoyed at the silence.

Regulus was just tired. “You are, are you?” He asked as he turned away from them, his eyes caught himself in a window and the world just stopped. His wavy hair was dried, his shirt soaked, his hands covered; all in blood. He didn’t recognise himself, he looked like a mess.

The Death Eaters had surrounded him now, “And once you’re gone, we’ll be taking that locket from your neck.” He aimed his wand at him and the rest of them followed. Regulus hated the sight. Looking at them all, every mask and every wand, something stormed inside him.

The man at the front moved back, letting the people behind him move forwards and they attacked. Both spells were easily dodged by Regulus and although he knew dark magic and how to fight he didn’t send his own spell back to them. Instead he charred the ground in front of them with flames burst from his wand, they all stepped back but still stared at him from above the flames.

As their masked faces watched him, he felt weirdly exposed; he didn't have his own. The two Death Eaters in the front looked over at each other before they leapt through the flames and landed on the other side. Regulus flipped his hand around, a mask appearing as he did and without looking away from the Death Eaters he slid the mask down his face.

None of them sent deathly blows to each other, it was like a game, as if they were playing a duel. Spells exchanged between the three once more, it was all Regulus knew, practise fighting. Even with his spot as a Death Eater, he had never fought nor had he been sent to. It was just expected of him to be great. It was probably why Voldemort sent five people after his locket or maybe he couldn’t take any chances.

As he blocked another spell the breath was knocked out of him, everything seemed to slow as blood rushed to his head. Something- something screamed.

He saw one of the Death Eaters aparate, he heard the wind woosh behind him as dark flecks followed over him. He couldn’t breathe as the scream echoed in his mind.
It screamed for more.

Regulus turned around quickly and just as the Death Eater appeared he flicked his arm to them. Light sparked from his wand as magic uncontrollably poured out of it. They didn’t have time to cast protego as they were hit, their body flew backwards and collided with the wall.

The crack that sounded from it silenced everyone.

But Regulus just heaved heavy breaths as he could finally breathe again, the echoes in his mind cleared and his chest was no longer tight. Nothing pushed him anymore and he wondered if he had imagined it all. If he was going insane.

“We only need the locket.” He heard behind him, “Not him.” One of them spat out with disgust as they sent a darker spell towards him. Regulus couldn’t dodge as he watched the corpse of the person.. He just murdered.

The spell threw him back and the air was knocked out of him again, he coughed hard enough to feel it in his stomach and waited. To feel bad. To regret.

He didn’t. If anything, he felt better than before. The mask he wore cracked, a patch breaking off that exposed his right eye and part of his forehead. He didn’t know it but dark magic swirled around him, circled him, protected him. As he stood his arm flew to them, this time the fight was deadly.

Morality was such a fine line, between good and bad. Right and wrong. White and Black.

Regulus was born into the House of Black, and has always been a part of it.

A spell zipped through the air and struck his shoulder forcing him back, allowing one of the others to slip behind him. A wand pushed his head back and he stood still, frozen as he felt the burn wherever he was touched.

“Stay still now.” He whispered into Regulus’ ear, his breath hot against his cheek and another one walked up to them. She made a spectacle of yanking the locket from his neck, he could only stare through the masks and at their eyes as they did. As she walked away he was thrown to the floor but they didn't take his wand.

He heard them laugh and move around him. His wand was held limply in his hands as he looked at the blood, this wasn't the blood of anyone guilty. He knew whose blood this was. And he could only stare.

He heard them again but this time they asked, “And where's your elf?”

Regulus’s rage was not blind, his mind lost no judgement and his eyes didn’t cloud over. No, he became impossibly clear. Everything became clear.

If he wanted to avenge Kreacher, then they’ll all have to die.

Some would question their morals, choosing grey, staying in between the white and black of the world's problems. Living in denial, living in fear of what they’ll become if they give in. Wanting to be good while doing evil, morally grey they’d call themselves. Avenging a friend, loyal, they’d satisfy their good.

Simply, he is Regulus Black. Not a shade of grey.

With that thought his hand tightened around his wand and his eyes moved to look at all of them. He could feel the fire burning before the spell even came to his mind and he didn’t need to say a word as the fire burst out of his wand.

The Death Eaters stood in the middle of the road, staring as the fire shot into a building. It was engulfed in flames immediately, the roof of the building collapsing on itself as it fell. One of them started to laugh, turning to one of his friends as he did, the others joined in.

“You think a little fire scares us-” They were cut off as a roar shook the earth. They looked around as another low rumble was heard and they all watched as a claw of fire reached from inside the decimated building. A large beast immerged, its body was engulfed in flames or made of flames. Its eyes pierced through them as it turned its head, making the fire crackle, lava spilled from its mouth. In a voiceless exhale a puff of black smoke covered the front of it.

The Death Eaters didn’t move, speechless as they stared at the smoke. None of them stood a chance as the dragon flashed through it. The scream of the one it bit was cut off, as was his torso. The violent display scared the others into moving, screaming as they ran. Two of them tried to run down a small road to the side, hoping for cover. As the fire dragon stood in the road it took a deep breath in before it turned its head, crackling as fire shot out from its mouth. Not even the buildings that surrounded them survived and the bodies broke into pieces of charr and ash when they hit the floor.

It rumbled again as it turned to the others down the street, one of them tried to fight it but it was no use. It flew ahead, phasing straight through them as the fire burnt them alive.

Regulus’s mind sparked, he watched the shadows of the bodies burn but something shined through the fire. A fleck of silver screeched and he fell to the floor as pictures, memories and emotions overtook him. None of them were his own, he could only watch as his mind was tortured by it all.

But he slowly started to understand what they were, what all of it was. Too soon he was brought out of it all, heaving on the ground as his head throbbed. “He made more?” He asked himself, remembering each of the places and items he had seen.

As that was happening the fire dissipated back into his wand, the dragon grumbled low from its throat as it stalked backwards. Leaving one Death Eater alive but barely sane. They cried out, cradling their burnt arm as they lay on the floor.

Regulus couldn't move for a moment, breathing deeply as feeling to his body returned and the pain in his head went away. “Voldemort sent you here to kill me.” He spoke out loud, watching the flames disappear to leave ruin where it went.

The Death Eater looked at Regulus, this time fear consumed him as he shook on the floor. “He wanted back what was his..” He looked at the burnt locket on the floor as he cried out again. “What’s so special about that stupid thing?” He whimpered on the floor as he took off his mask.

Regulus looked from the locket to the boy, “Nothing anymore.” He got up from the floor, the harsh smell of burnt flesh surrounded him but he walked forwards anyway. The Death Eater watched nervously as he picked up the burnt locket, watching as Regulus looked towards him for a moment.

He walked over to him, the Death Eater tried to move away but couldn’t. As Regulus knelt down in front of him he whispered. “Don’t-” Regulus shushed him quickly as he pressed his wand to the boy's temple, hearing him whimper quietly but Regulus didn’t kill him. He wanted to but he didn’t.

Instead he whispered, “Imperio.” Watching the boy's eyes widen before he went slack and his eyes clouded over. They held eye contact as Regulus peered through his mind, finding the memories he wanted. Then he changed them. It was easy, there was barely any resistance.

The memories of his friends dying stayed, the locket being destroyed but Regulus had to fight the boy's fear as he watched him face himself. Regulus watched himself get shot down and bleed through his already soaked clothes. There was more resistance for making this memory, the fear fighting Regulus as he tried to create it.

He grabbed the boy's shoulder and tried harder, watching it all play out again exactly how Regulus wanted it too. “Regulus Black is dead.” He spoke clearly to the boy, the memory cleared as the boy repeated it back. “There was nothing left of him, you killed him.”

“I killed him…” The boy whispered to an empty, destroyed street as his mind started to clear. He looked around, seeing and smelling what was left of his friends. He turned to his side and threw up. Immediately grabbing his wand from the floor and aparating out of there, unaware of the shadow that watched him.

Regulus walked away from the town engulfed in flames, bloodied clothes and a locket in hand. There was a smile that danced on his lips, everything that he had done had all been him. No one dictated it, it was all unfiltered Regulus Black. As much as he wanted to watch the chaos that he left, watch each of the bodies turn into ash to be swept away by the wind, he needed to get back to London.