Chapter 3
Regulus lies on the floor, his face tucked into the fabric of Pandora's pants.
He breathes heavily, his eyes squeezed shut so hard it hurts.
"I can't do this, Dora," he whispers intermittently, "I'll get him killed."
Pandora strokes his hair, weakly scratching his scalp and humming a gentle tune.
"Allow yourself some happiness, little starlet," she also replies quietly, "you are secretive enough to be able to keep the boy a secret."
"He's a child, Dora, he's just a child," his voice breaks again, hoarse, on the verge of tears.
"Go and play with him, Reggie," Dora nudges him.
"But..."
She clamps her hand over his mouth.
"Go, little star."
Dora gently kisses his forehead, then his cheek, the other, his nose. She looks into his eyes softly, tenderly, and smiles so softly.
Regulus nods, puts his arms around her, and gently rubs her hair, causing her to smile softly.
He walks away and doesn't hear Pandora say sympathetically, "Who knows how long this will last."
***
The kid lights up when he sees him, like a little sun.
"You came, mister, you came!" he jumps to his feet and runs around Regulus, almost jumping, "that's great! I just needed someone to help me build my castle!"
Regulus doesn't want to admit that his heart, just a little, is getting warmer. He hums and obediently follows the child as he drags him by the sleeve.
The sun gently illuminates them as they sit on the sand, burying their palms in it and carefully assembling a large castle worthy of a king.
The boy is not satisfied with much, so they often fix the towers and walls, but in the end, after much torment, he walks hard away from the castle and squeaks, perfectly satisfied with the result.
"Thanks, mister, I had a lot of fun!" smiling so brightly that dimples appear on his cheeks, the boy hugs his legs, just for a second, then looks up at him with puppy dog eyes, "are you coming tomorrow?"
The mark on his wrist burns with hellfire.
"Maybe not tomorrow," Regulus whispers.
Please leave him, he can't do it on his own.
Look into the killer's eyes, look at his hands drenched in blood, fill your eyes with animal terror, and run away screaming.
Run away before it is too late.
Run away before he kills you.
The boy looks at him hopefully, flapping his eyes.
"The day after tomorrow?"
Please...
"Please-e?" whines the boy.
"Sure, whatever you say," the words are ashes on his tongue.
He walks away and leaves a trail of corpses behind him.
***
He looks into pleading eyes while a man barely older than him squirms on the floor.
"Please..."
Yes, he wants to beg, too.
"Crucio," he says coldly and listens to the piercing screams.
Not that he could.
***
Once, just once in all this time, Sirius tries to approach him.
His brother looks terribly uncomfortable, stomping in place and hesitating, but Regulus can't bring himself to worry. The hands in his pockets are trembling from the morning's torture.
"Sirius," he whispers, not looking his brother in the eye, "go away."
He can't do that.
He doesn't want to see his brother die at his hands.
Sirius snorts and walks away.
That hurts.
(Why aren't you fighting for me?)
***
He thinks it's useless.
Nothing works.
The Horcrux stays intact.
***
Bellatrix approaches him like a predator on the hunt, purring dangerously.
"Reggie, Reggie, Reggie..." she walks around him, "silly, silly cousin..."
He arches an eyebrow. Bella's playful torture session came early this time. The fingers on his hands tremble.
"Did you really think you'd betray the Dark Lord and I wouldn't notice?"
Fuck.
***
He's running.
He's a fucking idiot.
Bella laughs behind him, blasting the walls around him, trying to kill him, trying to hold him back.
Stupid is what he is.
Regulus doesn't know when he was spotted, but he knows he was overconfident. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The Dark Lord's greatest secret and he didn't hide it under three locks.
His leg buckles under the weight of the curse, he gulps down curses and keeps running, overcome with pain.
***
He gets caught.
Of course he fucking is.
He sits before the Dark Lord on his knees, pathetic and desperate. (He doesn't want to die, he doesn't, he doesn't, he doesn't, God...)
Cold eyes stare straight into his soul.
"Young Black..." hisses his name, "so... so disappointing."
Almost gently he says, "Crucio."
And pain flashes behind my eyes, familiar, like a close relative. From the Dark Lord, a powerful wizard, it is only stronger.
Regulus squirms on the floor, scraping at it with his nails, trying to cling to something, trying to get a grip on reality, but all in vain.
He only realizes he's screaming when the pain in his throat becomes impossible to ignore. He feels tears on his cheeks.
He cannot think clearly. All he knows is pain, all-consuming and endless, encompassing every part of his body.
He only vaguely hears the voice of the Dark Lord before his insides all boil over. Forget everything he said earlier, it's impossible to describe.
The screams can't even leave his throat, strangled. All he can do is desperately gulp for air, but even so he gasps for air.
He feels his fingernails break as he scrapes the cold floor. His insides are burning, he can feel the blood flooding the floor around him.
Just let him die.
The Dark Lord grabs his chin, forcing him to lift his head. Eyes full of amusement stare at him as he rudely penetrates his mind, breaking what is already cracking at the seams.
He can't squeeze a sound out of himself.
All of his memories are jumbled, woven together, and broken again, leaving only ashes in his mind.
The Dark Lord laughs.
The Dark Lord laughs.