sorry
8th August 1979
Regulus knew he was dying.
He knew he was going to drown.
He’d dropped his wand as soon as he hit the water, the inferi’s fingers digging into his skin.
There was a faint memory of when he told Kreacher to go home, but he couldn’t remember much after that.
As moments of his life floated away with the bubbles of air, he wished he could go back in time. If he could, he would ask for Sirius’ help; he would leave before he ever found out about horcruxes, before he took the dark mark.
“I’m sorry,” Regulus tried to say, pushing at their hands, clawing for the surface. “I’m sorry,” he tried to scream, his eyes stinging with the salt water.
It was too late. It was all too late.
Regulus wasn’t quick enough; he wasn’t fast enough; he wasn’t smart enough.
Sirius had always said his fatal flaw was his pride - he didn’t think it would be what killed him. Maybe in another life…
He knew it would end like this.
He knew he should have said he was sorry before he couldn’t anymore.
There was nothing in his life he was proud of. No moment he could see where he was truly happy, or had done something worthwhile.
Was he a monster?
He thought he must be, or else Sirius would have chosen to stay with him, or pushed harder at fighting to get him out.
Why couldn't he just listen?
If he could relive his life, he would.
But instead, he was dying.
He knew it for certain now. His mind was foggy and his lungs stiff and full of pain; he couldn’t feel his limbs but it didn’t matter anyway, he didn’t think he would be able to lift them.
He felt rather light headed, and he couldn’t feel the cold anymore. Everything was fuzzy and warm, and oddly peaceful.
Under the water was quiet.
He could no longer see the bubbles of where he struggled to escape the inferi’s grasp.
Perhaps it was all a dream.
Perhaps if he closed his eyes, he’d wake up, and Sirius would tell him it was all a bad dream.