The cold wrapped around his body, squeezing him so hard it was hard to move.
His vision was blurred by the dark strands of her hair waving before his clear eyes.
Sometimes he glimpsed shadows advancing in the darkness around him.
He couldn't even breathe, the air was rushing out of his lungs.
Regulus had always believed that death lightened people, took away guilt and pain.
But he felt so heavy that he sank into the unknown.
Maybe it was the memories that weighed so much.
Vivid images had appeared in his mind of the people he loved and that he was trying to protect.
In the muffled sound of silence he could hear his mother's stern voice calling to him.
Before the eyes appeared the serious face and the forced smile of Walburga that made Regulus forget the cold of that place.
The boy, who was a child again for a moment, smiled at his mother.
His smile was sweet and innocent, in his hands he held a sparrow that could no longer fly.
The child showed it to his mother who immediately took it in her hands and without saying anything about her took it into the house.
Walburga had always been so inexpressive in her gestures and words, yet she had filled Regulus' childhood with a multitude of emotions, all of them beautiful.
She is a distant woman yet so close.
Despite her coldness, Regulus had always felt loved by her.
Her mother had entered the house and brought the sparrow to her father Orion.
The man was sitting on a leather chair, he was in front of a desk full of papers, a feather and an inkwell full of ink.
The man put down the letters he was holding in his hands and immediately welcomed the sparrow in his big warm hand.
Unlike his wife, he looked at his son and smiled sweetly.
Regulus felt a pang in his heart, his father had died a year earlier.
He remembered him as a quiet man, less severe than his wife and loved his children in silence.
His parents had entrusted the sparrow to Kreacher who had looked after it and kept it safe.
Patiently he had waited for his wing to heal.
Regulus was so grateful to Kreacher, their house elf.
Despite the education received and the social differences, the boy had always treated the elf as an equal to him, when he was little he had even treated him as a friend.
He had always been there for him and Regulus had repaid him with pain and suffering.
He had never liked animals yet he had taken care of the poor sparrow only because he asked him to.
He had kept him safe until he was flying again.
And Regulus remembered well that hot summer morning in which he had flown away.
He had watched it soar from his hand into the cerulean sky, watched it go.
He had watched him until his feathers had turned into dark, unruly curls, his wings into legs that raced away.
The cerulean sky had turned dark, gloomy.
It was raining a lot that evening and Regulus from his bedroom window watched his brother Sirius flee in the rain.
He had suddenly left without saying anything to him but only horrible words full of contempt to their parents.
Regulus watched him until he disappeared into the dark, until tears appeared instead of him.
He hadn't seen his brother for over a year, hadn't had contact with him since he finished seventh year at Hogwarts.
In reality Regulus had never had a good relationship with his brother, even though they were only two years apart they were so different, opposites.
He was a true Black, Slytherin and Death Eater. He was the pride of his parents.
While Sirius was not a Black, he only bore his surname.
He was a Gryffindor, he had muggle-born and half-blood friends. Sirious was the dishonor of the family.
Regulus barely remembered his face so similar to his.
He saw only the smoke from the fire with which his mother had burned his portrait.
Despite everything, he loved him and missed him.
Over time he had learned to understand him, to agree with him.
Voldemort was exaggerating, he was going too far.
Regulus understood it too late for himself but in time for the others.
At least he hoped so.
The sky cleared again, before his eyes he saw the sun.
A golden colored sun, moving rapidly across the sky.
Regulus tried to reach out to grab it but it was too fast.
The golden snitch escaped his grip, tried to get closer on his broomstick.
But he leaned too far and fell off his broom.
He felt heavy again, sinking deeper and deeper.
It was a strange feeling to drown.
Those strange creatures were dragging him deeper and deeper, now he no longer saw Kreacher, he no longer heard his voice calling him.
He was no longer breathing, he had reached the bottom.
The Inferi had taken him down with them, he had dragged the truth with him.