What would Sirius do?
The next morning Regulus awoke to a sharp pain around his shoulder. He groaned as he moved away from the pressure and dug deeper in the bed, "Young Regulus, I need to make sure everything is alright." Kreacher spoke quietly, Regulus opened his eyes slowly. No light's blinded him as he did, it was still early in the morning. You could see the start of yellow light beginning to peak its way through the window but the sky was still covered in darkness. Regulus looked at his hand to see that Kreacher had let go at some point and he just stared.
"Regulus." Kreacher said, more demanding but still soft. He stood with healing salves on the bedside table and a hand opened up to the boy. Regulus looked away from him, that was a mistake because he looked down. The jumper and blanket could be seen clearer in the light now. He started to tear up as he stared at the colours, remembering who they belonged to.
"I need to make sure you're okay." Kreacher tries again, moving to help Regulus out of the jumper.
"He used to do that." He whispered as tears fell down his face, Kreacher stopped in his movements as he watched the boy cry.
"I'm here." Kreacher reassured, he held the boy's hand. After hearing the words Regulus let his head fall forwards, landing on Kreacher's shoulder as he cried quietly. Harsh breathes coming out between muffled sobs. All Kreacher could do was hold the boy, holding him tightly so he doesn't fall apart. And Regulus cried, he cried into the only comfort that was given to him. And he cried for the comfort that he craved.
They sat there in that awkward position until light illuminated the room, until the curtains opened and faintly the world outside could be heard waking up.
Without speaking Kreacher moves Regulus so he can look at his shoulder. The skin is red and bruised with veins of bright red lesions that resembled Lichtenberg figures. It travelled down his arm and over his back like a spreading infection. "She said not to heal it." He whispered into Kreacher's shoulder, again. He stared at the blanket, picked at the wool as Kreacher reached for the bedside table. Regulus moved quickly away as Kreacher opened the salve. "She said no healing." Regulus repeated, confused.
"She's not here, is she?" Kreacher replied, grabbing some of the salve onto his fingers.
The reply made Regulus smile, "Sirius has had a bad influence on you." He told the elf, he let himself relax and started to turn slightly as Kreacher moved to put the salve on.
"Well he's not here either." Kreacher applied the salve softly, the reply made Regulus go back to thinking. He didn't want to think, his eyes still red from crying just a few hours ago.
"What does Voldemort have you doing?" Regulus asks, wanting the distraction.
"I am not to discuss the action's I do to help Voldemort, with anyone." Kreacher says in a monotone voice.
"Even from me?" Regulus raises an eyebrow at the elf, he receives one in return. They stared at each other, Kreacher started to smirk and in-turn Regulus started to grin. "Come on, tell me. What's he getting you to do?" He pokes at the topic again.
Kreacher gives in easily, "Well..." He stretches the word as he looks away from the boy's face and focuses on dressing the wound. "He wants me to find a magical cave."
"A magical cave?" Regulus questions with disbelief, trying to turn to see Kreacher but he is forcefully turned back as the elf continues to bandage the wound.
"Yes, a magical cave with inferi that is magically hidden." Kreacher explains with fake excitement.
"Inferi? Why would Voldemort need a magical cave?" Regulus asks, curious if this cave even does exist.
"I think he wants to hide something in there, I've seen him with a locket. Got bright emeralds on it and it holds a lot of dark magic inside."
"What do you think it is? Can you tell what kind of magic it is?" Regulus questions again but Kreacher doesn't answer for a minute. His hand lays on top of the wrapped bandages on his shoulder. "Kreacher?" Regulus calls out as he turns, "What is it?"
Kreacher has a thoughtful look on his face, "Just thinking.." His eye brows knit together as he silences once more.
"What about? The dark magic?" Regulus presses, curious but worried as he takes in the pensive expression.
"It was evil, the kind of magic from doing something completely and utterly selfish, young Regulus." Kreacher looks the boy in the eyes, trying to convey the seriousness. Trying to show how dangerous this man really is because what happened in the library, he wouldn't get away with it twice.
"What kind of magic is it?" Regulus asks seriously as he holds eye contact with Kreacher.
Kreacher leans back onto the chair he was sitting on next to the bed, he snaps his fingers and from a ball of light comes a book. It's old, torn and the pages have uneven tanning. Kreacher flicks through the pages until he lands onto one, he hands the book to Regulus.
"Horcruxes?" He asks aloud, he doesn't get an answer or reply, he's already reading anyways.
'Horcruxes have only been known to be used by one wizard.' Regulus traces down the tinted and taunt book lining as he read's.
'This wizard sought to lengthen his own life by preserving pieces of his soul into object's. This object would be a horcrux. Horcruxes are extremely difficult to make, as well as need a sacrifice of a life to work correctly. This magic is one of the most evil, most illegal in the wizarding world. The wizard that did this went clinically insane after a short period, it is said that when part of his soul broke from him, that he lost that part of him. That his soul may live but it would not be with the wizard anymore, breaking your soul apart to complete this spell is detrimental to one's health and...'
Regulus didn't continue to read, his words trailing off as his eyes looked up to meet Kreacher's. "You think he's hiding a horcrux? You think he made one?!" He asked incredulously, eyes wide as he stared breathlessly at the elf.
Kreacher pulls the jumper back down Regulus's arm, helping him put it on as he stares between Kreacher and the book. Kreacher doesn't respond verbally, his eyes flicking between Regulus's own as he looks at him with a pensive look.
"That's..." Regulus shakes his head softly as he closes the book, "We have to do something. Right?" He turns to look at Kreacher, "We should, we can't just- just..." The words fizzled out on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to say so much, too much.
He wanted to say they couldn't let him get away with that, with the murder he committed to make these but he's already gotten away with so much. What could they do?
He wanted to say they can't let him hide that horcrux in that magical cave but what could Kreacher do?
He wanted to say how much he didn't want to be there. To be in this place, to be surrounded by these people. He wanted to say that he wanted to do something right, something good.
Because that's what Sirius would do. He wouldn't let Voldemort get away with that if he knew about it, he would fight until his last breath. He would push, shove and scratch his way. As far as he needed to go and he'd do it all... just because it's the right thing to do.
Kreacher and Regulus share a glance, like they were thinking the same thing. Thinking about him, what would Sirius do? Thinking about his brother brought about different thoughts as well.
"They want me to become his apprentice- or something. Orion and Walburga wanted it to be Sirius but, but Voldemort wants it to be me. They were going to force him to come back in the summer, Kreacher, could you imagine it?" Regulus questioned grimly, thinking of all the possibilities of what would happen. All of them ending with pain and screams. Kreacher matched his grim expression with one of his own, clearly negative thoughts had started to plague his mind also.
"What did you do?" Kreacher whispered.
"I... I told them I would be happy to take that position. I think, I think I might have a plan." Regulus looked at Kreacher timidly. The boy looked to the elf for guidance, for his opinion because if Kreacher would say no to this plan then that would be the end of Regulus's thinking.
"A plan? What kind of plan?" Kreacher inquired, curious and thoughtful. He had the beginnings of a plan himself.
"They wanted to force Sirius back in the summer. That is when I'm supposed to- to join them officially, I imagine. But... if I could try and make them change it to winter, then maybe- maybe we could try and- and..." Regulus stared at the homemade blanket that was draped over his legs, the jumper that he was wearing. He swallowed the lump in his throat, "And leave." He whispered, so quiet and soft. He paused in any movements or thoughts, waiting for something- someone to come and punish him for uttering the words. For thinking of them at all.
"They wouldn't be able to get you or Sirius if we left in October." Kreacher said instead, the thoughtful reply made Regulus quickly look at the elf. It wasn't denied and he didn't poke fun at it, instead he was actually considering the plan. Thinking about it, about Regulus's plan.
"Exactly."
Kreacher sit's back and thinks, he looks back at Regulus once more before his eyes linger on the elderly book to their side. Too many thoughts and actions to think through, to decide upon. But as he thinks, the answer becomes more clear. Like sand becoming glass, it start's to melt and meld into a liquid. Into something flexible, mouldable. Kreacher becomes the glass blower as he starts to direct the flow, moving the piece around to make the perfect product. That product being a plan. He doesn't voice his thoughts, deciding to try and keep Regulus out of this part of their make-shift plan.
"It sounds like a good plan, where would we go?" Kreacher asks and that's what they talk about for the remainder of the time Kreacher is there. Where they would go, what they would do, the places they would visit and the things they would learn. The freedom Kreacher would have, that they both would have. Kreacher stayed next to him as they talked, stayed holding Regulus
Until he was called upon, "Promise you'll come back no matter what Voldemort asks of you?" Regulus pleads before Kreacher leaves the room, Kreacher turns and takes one of Regulus's hands. "I promise, I won't leave you alone." With that promise Kreacher leaves Regulus in the room. The room he dreaded to enter since he had left... the room he ran to for safety. The room he couldn't bring himself to leave.
So he stayed there, looking at first. Over the entire room, at the architecture. One of the wall's had green painted wooden panels filling it and the other's had wallpaper that circled the room. The way there was a chair away from the desk it should be at and was closer to the window. Regulus looked at the chair with distaste at its placement, he couldn't help the smile.
This whole room was just, Sirius. That was the only way he could describe it. From the way Regulus knew the clothes were sorted in draw's that would match each other. Not how it should be, with shirt's in one drawer, trousers in another and underwear and socks in the last. No, Sirius was always different in how he lived. He always had been.
Regulus started to get up, he swung his leg's from off the bed and made a small jump to get out. He greatly underestimated how affected he had been from the night before, he had almost forgotten it. But as he fell to the floor almost immediately when his feet reached it, he was reminded very forcefully of what had happened. He fell to the side, his body crashing painfully into the floor. Regulus just lay there as he breathed deeply. Annoyed, he lay on the floor and stared at the wall next to him. He just continued to breath and stare, no plans to move or to check if he was okay.
Eventually, he did move. He turned around, getting sick of looking at the wall. So, he turned to look at a different wall. Regulus let out an annoyed breath at the new turn of events. He started to move again until something in his vision shimmered, he moved his head the same and something glistened under the bed.
Which was odd, nothing was under the bed. Regulus, confused, narrowed his eyes and reached forward. Or he tried to until pain erupted across his shoulder and he pulled back. It didn't deter him though, he pushed his body forward and then reached out once more. To his surprise his hand collided with something hard.
He was stunned for a second before pulling on it, pulling it out from under the bed and into the light. It was black but also translucent, Regulus deduced it must have been Sirius's. He felt around the small trunk, feeling the small indentations of patterns that spread throughout the entire case until he felt the clasps on the side.
As he opened the case it revealed notebooks and a small stack of photographs. Regulus hesitated a moment as he deliberated whether he would go through them or not. Then he remembered Kreacher's words before, "He's not here either." He had said, and so Regulus reached in and grabbed a notebook. He flipped through the pages, reading the passages. Entirely regretting it and feeling relief at the words, the words of how much his brother had come to like life away from Grimmauld Place.
He read as his brother described his urgency to leave, describing he would rather be elsewhere. Half way through the book Regulus found a passage about family, he didn't recognise half the names mentioned. He didn't find his name either.
So he closed the notebook, wiping the tears from his eyes and he brought out the stack of photos. They didn't move like the ones he normally saw, it didn't give off magic at all. It was frozen, a time framed. Although he couldn't see, he could imagine Sirius's laughter. The way he would dramatically flail his arms around, gasping for breath but still continue to laugh.
He smiled as tears continued to fall down his face. Looking at the photos in all the different serene settings. Inside the Gryffindor common room, inside the castle, outside the castle and on the roof of the castle. Regulus wonders how they got up there in the first place, wonders how he could get up there.
A chime is heard as Regulus pauses his movements. Time for lunch, the chime signalled. Regulus quickly sat up, wiping his tears he put away the notebook and hesitated before keeping a hold of the photos and the notebook. Placing the trunk where he found it he left the room, quickly changing out of the jumper and trousers he had on to new ones. He huffed, annoyed when pain stroked his shoulder.
He quickly buttoned up his black collared shirt and threw on a black and green vest. He moved his wand with small flicks against his hair and face, getting rid of the fizziness and the blemishes. Lastly he put a pair of reading glasses in the vest pocket, making them stick out and took a book downstairs.
He walked into the dining room, hiding from his parents' gaze and walking straight to this chair. "Where's Kreacher?" He questioned absentmindedly, noticing his absence from where he usually was.
"He is dealing with something for me, I wouldn't expect to hear from him soon but Regulus! Come, sit here." He gestured to the chair next to him, Sirius's chair. Regulus hesitated, he wanted to protest. He wanted to question Kreacher further about Kreacher. He looked around the room at his parents but they just looked annoyed.
"Okay." He agreed sadly as he slowly moved over to sit in his brother's seat. He held his breath the entire time, only breathing when the food was finally revealed after he had taken his seat. He looked to his left to find his chair, his seat empty. Regulus couldn't help but look at where he should be sitting, thinking about the implications. They couldn't have Sirius, so they were settling for Regulus. His parents seemed very displeased with the fact but didn't say anything. They wouldn't say anything.
Regulus had been getting this feeling, like a part of him was longing for something and a part of himself was missing. He was just realising this feeling, this feeling of grief. The feeling of loss is so great you can't enter rooms they once called theirs. Regulus find's it oddly amusing how he is grieving someone who isn't even dead, someone who is alive and is probably doing better than they were.
'They couldn't have Sirius.' Regulus repeated in his head, it wasn't resentment or jealousy that kept him repeating it. No, it was relief and it was determination and it was love. 'They couldn't have Sirius.' He repeats to himself, a mantra or a promise. It's both but neither at the same time because this could never be broken, could never be swayed. 'They can’t have Sirius.'
"I see you're reading the books I recommended to you." Voldemort said, pleased as he interrupted Regulus's thoughts. Boasting about the fact. Regulus hadn't even realised he had grabbed one of the books from the pile the man had given him, he had already read them all. Voldemort was a powerful wizard, good or not, and so any recommendations were good ones. Maybe not morally.
"Yes, thank you again." Regulus said politely, even though he would rather be anywhere but in that room, in that chair. Voldemort started to talk, to brag and Regulus got away with nodding every now and again. Agreeing with small comments as he talked aimlessly.
"I can't wait for you to join me." He had said.
"Join you? Join you where?" Regulus asked as they talked over the desert.
"On my journey, my journey of power, Regulus. I shall teach you what it truly means to be powerful, to have power." He smiled sadistically as he talked excitedly.
"Right..." Regulus remembered, he took a second before approaching the subject. "I was wondering if we could talk about that." He asks in a hopeful voice, smiling towards Voldemort. Trying to seem complacent.
"Whatever is there to talk about?" Voldemort asked, amused.
"I was wondering if I could join you next winter instead of summer. Therefore I can finish all my important studies and exams so I can properly focus on what you have to teach me. It will also be a new-year then, like the signal of a new era." Regulus tried to speak elegantly as he stroked the man's ego.
"Hm." He hummed in reply, thinking. Regulus didn't stop the smile on his face or stop scoping up his ice cream as he ate. "A new era, I like the sound of that." He said but Regulus didn't stop his act, didn't allow himself to hope. He just smiled at the man, acting on his best behaviour because he needed this to work.
He takes another scoop of ice cream, letting it melt on his tongue but he can't taste it or he's not focusing on the taste. It just melts in his mouth, making it cold and heavy as he breathes through his nose.
"I think that is a fine idea Regulus, you're already impressing me." Voldemort exclaims as he cheers, tipping his spoon to him. A sign of good will, Regulus wonder's how good it could be. Wonders how good he could be for eating frozen, creamed milk at the spoon. He further thinks about the different morals a person has for the both.
Regulus watches Voldemort leave the room, with another glass of milk. At the thought's his stomach rolls, twisting like a noose is wrapped around it. It's unyielding. Pulling, strangling, choking him and he tries to breath but with every inhale his mouth gets drier.
He excuses himself. Walking, running to his room. He's thankfully not interrupted, taking breaths to calm himself as he tries to forget the word's, thought's, everything really. The feeling won't go away, clawing at his chest. It's sudden, the pit forming in his stomach, like a blackhole, started to exist inside of him and it's dragging everything he has into non-existence.
He tries to breathe through it but it's pulling continuously. His legs feel weak, so he collapses to the floor. The feeling is still there, he's paranoid, it's like something bad is about to happen. Something awful.
A crack-pop is heard next to him, further in the room. It happens so suddenly, he breathes a sigh as the feeling dissipates. Rolling out his bones and seeping into the floor as he relaxes further, safe he thinks.
"Kreacher, What did Voldemort have you do?" He sighs, curious once more in the doing's of the stranger he had met a week prior. "I missed you at dinner, you should have seen it. The lies I-" He talk's aloud, staring at the ceiling. Regulus laughed, finally looking at Kreacher. The light dimmed from his eyes and the laughter stopped immediately. "What? What's wrong?"
Kreacher choked on his words as he fell forward, Regulus clumsily tried to catch him. Just making it in time so he didn't hit the floor. "Kreacher?" Regulus whisper shouted, watching as he choked on his breath. Inhaling twice before every exhale and all Regulus could do is watch.
"What happened? Tell me, what's wrong? How can I help?" Regulus held him on the floor, a hand on his chest as he shook him manically. Kreacher wordlessly lifted a closed fist, a silver chain hanging out of one side. Regulus furrows his eyebrows at it. "Tell me how to help, that- that can wait." His voice fails on him as he continues to look over the elf.
He pushes his fist further, opening it. Regulus stops in his movements immediately. Staring at the locket before looking back at Kreacher. The word's of what he had said replayed in his head.
'Got bright emeralds on it and it holds a lot of dark magic inside.' He had said, describing the locket. The locket Regulus was looking at. "How do you, why do you have that?" He asks, staring at the elf.
"I found the cave." Kreacher chokes out, "He- he was gonna 'ide it in there." He coughs, blood splutter's out. Some land on Regulus but he focuses on the words coming out of his mouth instead.
"Voldemort? Did he do this?" Regulus looks at the elf, not entirely sure what 'this' is but it's something.
"Regulus, there's something I must tell you.." He rasps out, his throat burning as he pushes through the pain of talking- of breathing.
"It can wait, you can tell me when you're better." Regulus brings out his wand, thinking of any and all healing spells he knows. Getting ready to try all of them despite the cost but a force pushes down his wand and he looks down to see Kreacher lowering it. Regulus goes to question him but is interrupted.
"It can't wait." He shakes his head softly, Regulus is ready to fight. All he does is fight the prickling feeling in his eyes as he puts his wand down softly, listening. Kreacher smiles at him and he smiles back tightly as a tear rolls down his face.
“Never-” He wheezes painfully, “Never forget about this.” His bony hand reaches to his chest, his finger pokes him. “I’- I’m sorry…”
"I- I can help you, you'll be alright." Regulus fret's around Kreacher to look for his wand, missing the way Kreacher's arm fall's or the way his body goes limp. He does though, when he turns around and sees him again. "Kreacher?" He shakes his body, it moves effortlessly. "Kreacher..?" His voice heavy, thick with sadness that screams to be poured out.
"You can't- you can't do this. Please.. You said you wouldn't leave me alone, don't- don't leave me alone." He begs, begs the body of the one he holds dear. But the soul cannot hear him, as it has already been taken. He pleads anyway, he cries and tries to compromise. It doesn't work. The body stays limp and he doesn't open his eyes. He manages to make it to his bedside table.
There’s not a note, no words but a flat stone and the second Regulus touches it he can see Pandora. It’s not a memory but she knows he’s watching, she stops what's she doing and she smiles. “You’ve got this Regulus, I’m with you. With you till the end of the world.” In her own hand she pulls out an identical stone, he can feel her hand connect to his through it. “Survive, Reg, be smart.”
An extraordinary witch indeed. Regulus's eyes swam with so many emotions, he didn't know what to focus on. He watched Kreacher, waiting for the raise of his chest just for it to be still, waiting for his eyes to open so he could see them once more but that's all that he did. Wait.
As he stared at his friend on the floor, at his family, his eyebrows furrowed together getting closer and closer. He finally looked up through his hair as his head was still tilted down. His eye's had finally settled and they found rage.
He breathes heavily, taking his wand in an enclosed fist as he stand's. His jaw clenched as he walked out the room, the hallway was silent as he stalked further down the hall. He wanted to- No, he needed to know what happened to Kreacher. There was only one person that could give him the answer's he needed. So he moved, soundlessly through the house before eventually he found himself in front of it. He stared at the door, seething as he exhaled shakily. He reached out, a hand enclosing the handle. He turned it and nothing happened after he opened the door. The room was black, little pieces of furniture could be seen in the room from the moon light.
Regulus moved into the room, standing at the foot of the bed. He stared at the man sleeping in it, flashes of the body that didn't raise and fall flew through his mind. “Somnum,” He whispered towards Voldemort, watching a mist leave his wand and encase him, dissipating onto his body.
He needed to know what he did. "Legilimens.."
A pop of light exploded from the tip of his wand before he was transported to somewhere wet. The air was thick and salty as he tried to take in his surroundings. It was messy, unclear but two beings stood in front of him. One significantly smaller, Regulus can guess what this is.
It became clearer as it went on, clear enough to identify the two properly. Regulus watched as Kreacher drank from a well until he began to spew and choke, he watched as Voldemort forced the liquid down his throat. He cried with Kreacher, in relief and pain as he watched him swap the locket's.
And he watched as Voldemort turned his back and walked away, blending with the darkness. Leaving Kreacher alone, he ran to the elf but just as he got next to him. Close enough to see his face, to see him breathing and alive- he was gone. Just like that, gone again.
Then he stood in a field, until the pieces cleared, then he stood in a graveyard. He saw a younger boy, surrounded by graves. "Marvolo..." Regulus whispered as he looked at the sign. The boy placed flowers outside the door of a house, Black dahlias, before lifting his wand and listing off incantations. Then he walked away, Disappearing once more to the darkness.
Next he's standing inside a grand room, a lady sits at the head of a large table. No one else is in sight and no one joins her. The jewellery she wears shimmers, her hand moves to pick up a cup, a green spark coming from the gold. Then the door shuts, it was a vault, the man is walking away. Vault Number: 777...
He's spoken to by a familiar voice, it booms and echoes through the room until Regulus turns around. "Dumbledore?" He questions, he sees Voldemort and him talking. He stares at the man, at both of them. Taken aback by the information. Voldemort walks over to a bookshelf, still animatedly moving his arms and mouth but no words can be heard. It's like he's underwater, he can hear noises but not specific words. He watches the man rake a hand over a specific book, it glows green like the tiara did. 'They must be horcruxes..' Regulus concludes, wondering why there was one in Dumbledore's office. Wondering how and why Dumbledore was talking to Voldemort, THE Dark Lord. His questions don't get answered.
Instead he stands in a field again, the man standing in front of him is unrecognizable but Regulus would take a confident guess. A large rock appears at the top of the hill that they stand on, the man mumbles some words. They sound gargled, "Et in daemonibus praesentis caveas perditorum aperias-" The stone glows with the yellow scribe that encases it. It's too blurry to make out and Regulus tries to get closer to look but he ends up stepping onto hardwood flooring and he looks around to find brown staring right at him, Voldemort sat straight staring right at him.
Regulus freezes, remembering what he just did and to whom. They stare at each other, just staring. Regulus moves to the side, falling mostly from the wrong position in which he landed in.
The eyes follow him but the man doesn't move, doesn't speak. He doesn't know which of those are more disturbing. He moves backwards, the eyes are still staring blankly at him. No, they stare through him, as if he isn't even there. Regulus leaves the room, quickly and as quietly as he can. He nearly runs to his own, having this new discovery of-
of Kreacher's death. He realises standing outside his room, his room that has the dead body of his favourite person. His once favourite person. It hits him, the pain, regret and the dread. It all comes and takes over his entire being. It becomes him as the feelings seep back into his bones. So many thoughts and emotions. The horcruxes, Kreacher, Kreacher is now dead. Kreacher is dead. 'What do I do?' Regulus questions, panicking.
'What would Sirius do?' He think's lastly, and he has an answer. Part of one, he'd have to ask Sirius for an actual answer.