Chapter 1
How long has it been since then?
The cold of the night blew past him as lifeless eyes stared at the emerald and silver locket in his hands. Trembling hands held it carelessly, skin so pale, almost grey. He looked down at the locket, a fake, and then towards the potion. His hand clenched around the locket, and he began to drink. He swallowed the potion, no matter how much it burnt his throat. No matter how many visions he saw that began to haunt him. He drank it all, and when he grew weak, he continued.
How many times have I done this?
He wasted not a single drop as he swallowed the potion. The fake locket lying on the cold ground as the potion went down his throat. He saw the images of his brother, his mother, his father, his family. They mocked him, called him weak, and abandoned him. Yet here he was, working to save them. No matter how excruciatingly painful it was, he allowed his insides to burn in the potion.
"Your brother could have done so much better."
His mother spoke, gazing down at him in disgust. He sobbed quietly, praying to whatever god out there to spare him. To give mercy as he desperately tried to retrieve the real locket. His throat was on fire. Yet he continued.
"Why are you trying so hard? Just give up, it's no use."
How many times have I done this?
Then came his brother's voice. A condescending tone, as his silvery eyes gazed down at him in pity. He hated that. Don't look at me like that. He thought as he saw a flash of silver. Salvation. He coughed, but dared not to spill any of the potion. Eyes burning with determination. A few more doses, and he was free. He kept telling himself as he grabbed the fake locket and drank the rest of the potion.
"Want my help little brother?"
Seven. I've done this seven times.
His voice was so cruel and bitter, yet there was a lingering amusement for his pain. This wasn't his brother's voice, he kept telling himself. This wasn't him. His brother was… kind, brave, heroic, stupid, foolish, and everything he was not. This cruelty belonged to him, not his brother.
He laughed helplessly as he saw the locket, he grabbed it without any hesitation and replaced it with the fake. As the potion refilled, he slumped to the ground. His chest raised and fell, his breath labored and his skin close to grey. He was exhausted, but there was a crooked smile across his face as he caressed the locket with his thumb. It was cold, but he didn't mind it. He was familiar with the cold. He lived through the cold, and died in the cold. He was familiar with the cold.
His stormy grey eyes were clouded. Drool trickled down his chin, too exhausted to move. He closed his eyes, praying that he would survive for once. Seven times it has been, and he kept dying. Every time he died, he returned. He prayed that he wouldn't die. He prayed that he'd stay alive, long enough to destroy the locket and live even a small bit of his life. He didn't care if he spent it in a hospital. He didn't care if he'd have to disappear to live, as long as he was alive… he was grateful for whatever would happen as long as he survived.
He sighed, slowly opening his eyes as a pale hand reached out towards him, cupping his cheek in an almost affectionate way. He shivered, weakly pressing his own hand against the others. He was familiar with this touch.
"You did well." The voice spoke. It was familiar yet not. The voice was cold, yet when it spoke to him, it was soft, tender and warm. There was a hint of bitterness under that warmth, that voice was upset of the last time he had failed.
He couldn't help but smile ever so weakly.
"You've survived, Regulus."
That's right. He survived. He was here, on the small island above him, not under the raging water. He didn't sink, he was stuck on the ground surrounded by water. The voices of his family were gone and now he heard the voice he kept hearing upon every death. The very voice he had found comfort in. He survived.
His silver eyes met the emerald eyes of his grim reaper. He was mesmerized, as the grim reaper's face was obscured from his view. It was only his eyes he could see. Poisonous emerald eyes, like the killing curse. He felt calm, and leaned into the reaper's touch.
But abruptly, he coughed and he saw a stain of red. He heard a sigh, turning towards the reaper who summoned a white handkerchief.
Blood? ah…it's mine.
His gaze lowered as the reaper wiped the blood off his lips. For a moment, the blurry image of the reaper's face grew clear. He couldn't help but flinch when he saw a familiar face with different eyes. He wasn't that person. His reaper was a different person. He was his reaper. Not that person.
"Want my help?"
"Want my help little brother?"
He shuddered. He gulped, differentiating the voice of his own delusions, and the voice who had been there for him all seven times.
He nodded silently, and felt an arm wrap around his waist. He felt faint, but he caught a sigh of a small smile on his reaper's face. That made him proud. He leaned against his reaper, sighing in joy as he felt a familiar cold breeze pass through. It was cold.
"You've done well. You've endured Fate's cruelty."
Regulus blinked tiredly as he was lifted into the arms of his reaper. His arms were firm, and they felt familiar. He weakly lifted his head and met eyes with his reaper. The blurry image was gone and in place was James Potter's face with Lily Evans eyes. Yet those very same eyes were the bright viridescent hue that the man he cared for so dearly fell in love with. No. These emerald hues were haunted by the horrors of the world that Regulus knew. The very same horror of death he had gone through seven times.
He weakly reached out, and his reaper only leaned towards his touch. As expected, his skin was cold.
Yet his reaper was a bitter friend. Cruel yet kind. The one who greeted him in every death wearing the face of the man he loved with the eyes of the woman who took him. How cruel it was, but as he said, Fate was cruel.
A hollow laugh left his lips, as he caressed his reaper's cheek and prodded his fingers against the side of his head. He stared at those eyes, not of Lily Evan's but his reaper. His guardian angel that came for him every time he drowned to his death. He was finally free of the cruel waters fate buried him under, and he was going to live. Because he survived.
His reaper held him tightly yet it was also gentle. He felt the familiar feeling of apparition, and had to close his eyes from the blinding light. There was a breeze, but it was warm. It wasn't cold. The warmth spread through him, and then did he have the energy to open his eyes. Right in front of him was an ethereal garden with all kinds of flowers. A flowery arch just up ahead, and his reaper walked right under it.
"You survived." There was pride and joy in his reaper's voice this time. He heard a soft chuckle from the man, and Regulus didn't stop himself from smiling as well.
('To Albus Dumbledore')
That's right… After so many tries, after so many failures—
('I know I will have died long before you read this')
"I survived." So many times did he face death and almost gave up.
('But I want you to know that I will fight to keep my brother safe')
His reaper smiled. He lived, and it would be a long time for the next time Regulus would face death again.
('I have stolen the real horcrux and replaced it with a fake.')
"I'm Hadrian. The master of death."
('I have destroyed it. This is proof.')
And finally did Regulus learn the name of his reaper after seven life times.
('I have faced death, in hope that one day, the dark lord shall be mortal once more.')
"Nice to meet you Hadrian."
(' — R. A. B.')
And it truly was, and the next time they'd see one another, Regulus would welcome him with open arms.
━━━━━━━━━
("Master, why sacrifice so much for him?")
Regulus woke up with the sun glaring at his face. He scowled, pulling at the curtains to hide himself from the light. He hated it. He liked the darkness more, and buried himself in his blankets. His head pressed against his pillow as he refused to look at the clock for the time. He needed sleep. He wanted to sleep. So sleep is what he gave himself.
("What's the issue with that? I want him to be happy.")
After a few minutes, he could not fall asleep and groggily sat up. He blindly searched for his wand, before squinting at the silent Tempus he had casted. It was a quarter past 8 in the morning. He yawned, rubbing his eyes as he moved towards his bathroom. He swayed along the way, but he finally pressed his hands against the edge of his sink and stared at his reflection. Silver eyes looked back at him, and after a few years, he learned to not see his brother through them.
("Yet you make him suffer seven deaths. Yet you push him into my arms—")
Regulus moved towards the kitchen of his little apartment, and sighed to himself. He smiled at the still warm dish Kreacher had placed on the counter. His loyal elf usually snuck away from his harpy of a mother just to cook him food, for that, he was grateful. He took one bite, and melted at how delicious it was.
("Fate would not have left him alone. You know that. If it meant for him to suffer to live the rest of his life happy—")
He wore a comfy button up shirt, a navy blue coat and black trousers. His wavy and thick hair tousled ever so slightly, and after many years of fixing his hair, he instinctively styled it. He sighed again, pouting at the mirror which showed his face.
("—That man who raised me in one life and died for me—")
Regulus exited his apartment, checking if his wards were perfectly in place before locking it. His key was placed into his coat pocket as he slipped past his groggy and sometimes grumpy neighbors. In his hand was a box, and the opposite held a bouquet of yellow roses.
("I would let him suffer thousands of lives and take the pain just to make him happy.")
("More so than your own godfather?")
Regulus landed on grass, upon a hill of Ottery St. Catchpole. He grinned at the oddly shaped house, before tracking up the hill with the gift and flowers in hand.
("In one life he would have been my father. Sirius treated me as if I were James, a replacement… Regulus raised me and led me to a future of greatness.")
Regulus knocked on the door, and it swung open. He smiled at a woman with pale blonde hair, her dark grey eyes staring at him. She let out a squeal of delight, launching herself into him and wrapped her hands around his neck. Regulus laughed, hugging her back as he planted a kiss to the crown of her head.
("Fate is a bitter friend to us. He died too young, so did I. We were cheated out of our childhoods… let him be happy.")
"Reggie! Goodness, it's been a year since I last saw you."
Regulus chuckled at Pandora's enthusiasm. The moment she had let out such a high pitched sound, Xenophilius came barrelling out with five year old Luna Lovegood in his arms. Seeing that his wife was in no danger, his gaze softened and smiled at Regulus. Luna followed her mother's reaction, screaming, "Uncle Reggie!" Trying to escape her father's grasp to her godfather.
("I don't care if I won't be born in this world. There are so many timelines where I am born and he suffers. Let him be happy.")
"Hello little moon." Regulus picked her up the moment she ran to him, and Pandora resumed her place by her husband's side. She smiled at the sight of her daughter and her pseudo brother playing.
Regulus chuckled, kissing Luna's cheek as the Lovegood couple welcomed him into their home.
("Very well Master.")
"Has Hadrian visited?"
Regulus smiled at the familiar name of his reaper. It has been nearly seven years since he last saw him, and one day, he knew they'd see each other again. He shook his head, chuckling at the small pout Luna wore. She was a special girl. Unafraid of death— her eyes were filled with wisdom, the very same look Pandora often had.
Seers, he knew they were.
"Darling Moon… My reaper will not come for me in a very long time. He said so himself and till that day comes, I shall patiently wait for him to come." Regulus told her, slowly sitting on one of the chairs in the living room, and Luna was comfortably sitting on his lap.
"Oh dear! Hadrian is ever so kind yet cruel is he not. Well, one day in the far future, I would like to meet him." Pandora declared as she set down the tray of tea. She smiled up at Regulus, pouring him a cup of tea and gently serving it to him. Regulus smiled back at her, accepting the tea.
He chuckled bitterly. He had slightly mixed feelings for his reaper. He was his salvation, yet at the same time, he commanded death. Regulus no longer feared death for himself but he feared the death of his loved ones. But deep down, he knew that if anyone he cared for were to die, he hoped it was Hadrian who came to take their souls and guide them to the afterlife. Because to those he loved, his reaper was merciful. To those he hated, his reaper was the devil.
Pandora sat across him, caressing the yellow roses Regulus had gifted them. Yellow roses, a symbol of friendship. She smiled, and turned towards the large gift box. Raising a brow at her friend, she merely received a cheeky smile as he summoned it to himself and handed it to Luna. The girl gasped in delight, pulling up the lead and squealing in delight.
Inside the box were two stuffed toys of a snake and a raven. Pandora let out a pleasant laugh at that, as Luna jumped excitedly with the snake and raven in her arms. She ran towards her father, presenting the gifts like trophies and proceeded to think up names for the toys.
"It's a wonderful day… I thank you for that."
Regulus sighed, frowning at the serene smile Pandora wore. "Not again… why do you keep saying that?"
"Because it's true. This day is wonderful, peaceful, and safe because of you." Pandora hummed, taking a sip of her tea as the yellow roses floated to a deep blue vase. Her knowing eyes stared at Regulus— into his soul perhaps. "Because of you, the dark lord was defeated five years ago. Because of you, my daughter can live in peace."
Regulus flinched at that.
In the year of 1981, the dark lord had perished and from what he knew, it was because all of his horcruxes were destroyed. Regulus had heard of who destroyed the horcruxes. A man who had been able to take out the sword of Gryffindor from the sorting hat, and Dumbledore had sent him on a suicide mission to destroy the dark lord's souls. Regulus had kept that man in mind for many years, but he never planned on seeing him.
"You know… I heard that your brother is still looking for you."
Regulus faltered, staring at Pandora with wide and confused eyes. He hadn't heard from Sirius in years. Not after he has 'faked' his death. Trust his stubborn brother to never believe such a thing, and continue to search for him. But… What reason did Sirius have to search for him?
"How stubborn of him." Regulus chuckled bitterly. "I've been in Britain for a month now… maybe I should just move back to Iceland."
"Oh! Absolutely not! You are spending far too much on those portkeys to visit us." Pandora immediately scolded him. She frowned at him, "Do you not feel safe here? The death eaters have been dealt with, and no one knows your involvement in the dark lord's death…aside from Dumbledore and some of his order members."
Seven years ago, Regulus had been brought to a pleasant home in Iceland. He had his reaper to thank for that, and for seven years, he has lived in peace. Only recently did he decide to move back to England with his goddaughter in mind. His home was being attended to some of the house elves he had hired, and although he despised the slavery of elves, he knew it kept them alive.
"I… it's not because of my safety…" he knew that. Pandora knew that. He was running away, taking the cowards way out.
Seven years ago, Regulus Black was announced dead to the world. With a smashed locket on Albus Dumbledore's desk, and a handwritten letter by Regulus with it. To the Order of the Phoenix, Regulus Black was dead and sacrificed him to save the world. Pandora had told him this long ago, and to this day he was confused as to why… why his brother never gave up.
Sirius Black. The disgrace of the Black family and the most stubborn person Regulus knew. Four years prior to his supposed death, Sirius had personally disowned Regulus as his brother. Seven times did Regulus have to hear his brother say those words to him.
("You are no brother of mine—")
He heard those seven times in seven situations. One where Regulus tried to stop him from running, and another where he and Sirius met under the rain as Regulus had the dark mark printed on to his skin. Of the seven lives he lived, Regulus could barely remember them. But the first life was clear to him.
"He misses you, y'know." Pandora started, her voice was soft and gentle as she stared at the grimace upon Regulus' face. She hummed thoughtfully, "I suppose it's his brotherly instinct that has led him to believe you are still alive. You are… but to everyone you are dead. Except for him. Sirius has never stopped searching for you in the past seven years."
Guilt.
Seven years of peace and comfort in Iceland, and Regulus dared not to think of his brother. He finally found his peace, why should he go back to such chaos known as the Black family. He separated himself from his past, and the one thing he kept from it was Pandora. It was selfish of him, but was he not allowed to be? He had died seven times, and he wasn't just going to give up his freedom after suffering for so long.
He told himself over and over again. He deserved to be happy.
(" —You deserve happiness.")
Hadrian had told him that the last time they had met.
"I… I'm finally Happy… without him." He closed his eyes, clasping his hands together as he leaned back on the seat. He kept telling himself that he didn't need Sirius in his life. Because Sirius never needed him in his life. And yet time and time again did he prove himself wrong when he woke up in tears, crying out for his older brother. Time and time again did Regulus have to restrain himself from running back to his brother, and begging for forgiveness. Time and time again did he have to lock himself in his room just to stop himself.
"Are you?"
Am I?
Was he?
Regulus sighed, tapping on his thigh as he stared dazedly at the ceiling. Pandora had always thought so well of him. She only thought of the best for him. These questions had meaning. Was this happiness or relief? Was he simply relieved that he could live? Was he simply relieved that he survived? Was he happy?
"I think so."
He thought.
"I think… I think I'm happy." He didn't know whether was telling this to Pandora or himself. Because for the past seven years, he thought he was happy. He wasn't miserable, but was he happy?
"I…"
Am I happy?
"I don't really know."
Pandora's eyes softened reaching out to Regulus as she squeezed his hand. He looked tired. She knew he was tired, and she shouldn't have pestered him with such questions. As a seer, Pandora had seen his suffering. She was the one person who knew of what he had gone through, and now her daughter would know when she grows up.
Seven deaths, and this was the successful eighth. Regulus never lived past eighteen in his first seven lives and kept returning to four years prior to his death. Finally in the eighth life, he was free from the shackles of fate. He was free and tired. Pandora who has been by his side all seven lives wanted him to be happy, just as she knew the master of death wanted the same. Her wish was his happiness. With the changes Regulus made, she lived. Her expected fate of dying when her daughter was nine changed, and she would live so long as he did.
She smiled weakly, kissing his knuckles as she pressed their foreheads together. They stuck by one anothers side for several lives, she wasn't going to leave him now. Hands intertwined, foreheads pressed together, she spoke softly.
"Let's look for your happiness together." She smiled and Regulus chuckled.
"You, Luna, and Xeno make me happy." He admitted, and if they were to search for his happiness, the lovegoods would be part of it. He was happy with them, they were his family.
"Of course. You make me happy as well." Pandora giggled, pressing a soft kiss to Regulus' forehead. "I love you brother."
("I love you little brother!")
Regulus closed his eyes.
"I love you too, sister."
("I love you too, big brother.")