The Cave and the Cold, Grey, Water
December 17th, 1979
He hadn't slept the entire night. The thought of sleeping hadn't even crossed his mind. He had spent the entire night writing a letter. It wasn't the letter he still had to send to Lucius, that letter was completely useless to him now. No, this was a letter far more important. A note to tell an enemy that he had lost and hadn't even known.
He had finally finished drafting it just as the sun was rising. He was exhausted. He wanted to shut his eyes for a while, there wasn't anyway he’d be able to leave just yet anyways. He would need to go at night, when no one could catch him. When the world was asleep and not a single eye would be on him.
Regulus held up the letter and leaned back in his chair. He read it all over again carefully.
To the Dark Lord,
I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B.
He dropped the paper onto his desk once more and sat straight up again. He was so tired… so very, very tired.
It was as if the weight of the entire world had finally caved in on him and he had no choice left but to let it collapse over his body and consume him. He had no choice left, but at least this one was his.
Would his family be furious if they ever discovered what he was about to do? Absolutely. Would they have beaten him into submission until he was just another mindless Death Eater, willing to be a servant to the Dark Lord? Probably. Was he ever going to give them that opportunity? Not anymore.
What would Sirius have thought of this? His brother who he hadn't spoken to in two years, who had decided they were no longer family. Would he have called him an idiot for doing something so dangerous or would he have been proud of him for finally doing what he believed was truly right?
He wondered what Sirius would be doing about now. Probably something heroic and daring as he always seemed to be doing.
Maybe he ought to talk to Sirius before he goes off on his own like this. Seek him out and explain his plan - that he knows how they can win. No… he couldn't possibly drag Sirius into danger like this. Godric knows he would be the first to put his life on the line for this. And if the rest of the Order of the Phoenix found out about it all? Well, then there would go his plans of keeping this quiet, making sure he had time before the Dark Lord discovered what he had done.
No, no, no… He needed to do it alone. He couldn't risk his plans being ruined. He couldn't risk anyone being involved. He couldn't risk anyone else being hurt but himself. Because who was he kidding? Who would care if Regulus Black got hurt? No one ever seemed to care if he were hurt, so why not let his life be the one to tiptoe the line between life and death?
Regulus finally dragged himself away from his desk again and threw himself into his bed, just as the sun began to shine in through the cracks between his curtains. He buried his head into his pillows and closed his eyes tight, enjoying the softness and warmth of his own bed. For all he knew, it would be the last time. He wanted to enjoy it while he could.
He slept through most of the day. Not once did anyone bother him or check to see why he hadn't left his room. Everyone was too busy to care. That was, except for Kreacher, who never once tried to wake him, but instead left him a few biscuits and a cup of tea on his bedside table that was still steaming when he finally woke up.
By the time he had woken up again, the sun was beginning to set. He hid out in his room for a few more hours, Kreacher bringing him a ham sandwich, insisting he needed to eat something. He knew he just needed to wait until they had gone to sleep. 11pm, like clockwork they would always go to bed. When he heard the door to their room shut, he knew it was time.
He folded up his letter and tucked it into the fake locket, making sure it was safely stored in his pocket. Peeking his head out of his bedroom door and making sure no one was around, he quietly crept downstairs and grabbed his cloak again, throwing it over himself.
Kreacher waited by the door, he nervously rubbed his hands as Regulus readied himself for his one final leap of faith. Something he could do to help.
“Kreacher,” Regulus whispered, “When we get to the cave, you’ll need to show me where to go and you’ll need to do as I say. I know how hard this will be for you, but know I will no longer put you in harm’s way. You are just my guide, you don't need to do anything more.”
Kreacher nervously nodded.
“And if anything should happen to me while we are there, you are to take the real locket, save yourself, and find any way to destroy it. Whatever it takes. Are we clear?” Regulus asked.
Again, Kreacher nervously nodded.
“Alright. Then, please take me to the cave.” Regulus requested.
The two walked just outside the front door and Regulus placed a hand on Kreacher’s arm. They instantly spun on the spot, feeling their stomachs be pulled and twisted, yanked through the cold air. Then, they were no longer on Grimmauld Place. The air was salty and sharp, it was freezing more than it had been in London. They stood together on a cliff’s edge, looking into a cave that looked over a cold, grey sea.
“This way, Master Regulus.” Kreacher directed as he cautiously began to walk inside.
They came to a dead end, a large rocky, dark wall. Kreacher stepped closer to it and pointed to a part of the wall that seemed no different from the rest.
“The Dark Lord made Kreacher cut open his hand and put his blood here, sir.” He said, shakily. “It opened a hidden entrance.”
“I see…” Regulus said, quietly, feeling even more guilty than he had before.
Regulus pulled his wand out and pointed it at the palm of his hand.
“Diffindo.” He winced as his hand was slashed open and took a couple breaths to calm himself down. Blood trickled down his open palm as he moved towards the cave wall and placed his hand on it. He pulled it away again and watched as the blood seemed to seep into the stone wall, then disappeared. The stone wall began to shift and move, opening up a pathway further into the cave.
“Is Master Regulus okay? Do you need a bandage, sir?” Kreacher asked, concerned.
“No, Kreacher.” Regulus shook his head. “Let’s just keep going.”
Further into the cave they both walked. It was dark and damp and still smelled of the salty ocean air outside. The further in they walked, the slipperier it became and any light they hoped of having was nearly gone. Regulus had tried to light the cave with his wand, hoping that “lumos” could give them some partial view back, but even with the wand light, it was hard to see.
The winding path led them along through the cave until finally Kreacher stopped at the edge of a lake within the stone walls. In the centre of the lake was a small stone island with a shiny, white basin at its centre.
Kreacher began shuffling along the floor, looking around for something Regulus could not see. Finally, he stopped and leaned over, grabbing a chain that had been hidden in the stone.
“Here, Master Regulus!” He called out. “The Dark Lord attached this to an enchanted boat. Kreacher and Master Regulus will need it to cross.”
Regulus joined Kreacher, yanking the chain backwards, dragging a small boat with two rickety paddles up to the surface and onto the shore where they stood. Though it had been submerged underwater, the inside was completely dry as if it had been sitting in a bubble just under the water.
“Get in, Kreacher,” Regulus said, “I’ll push us back out.”
“Just don't touch the water, Master Regulus.” Kreacher warned him as he climbed into the boat. “The dead don't like it very much.”
Regulus scowled at Kreacher in confusion. The dead don't like it very much. What was that supposed to mean? Whatever it meant, he didn't want to find out.
Regulus pushed the little boat back out into the water so that it bobbed with the ripples and he jumped in, his foot just barely missing the water making Kreacher wince a little as he watched. He then pulled the chain into the boat and began rowing the old oars towards the island. The oars were rough on his hands and the splintered bits of wood on them, scraped at the palms of his already wounded hand.
The edge of the boat finally bumped into the island, scraping a little on some of the rocks that were just a little too shallow. Kreacher climbed out first, grabbing the chain from the boat and placing a heavy rock on it to stop the boat from drifting away. Regulus carefully climbed out as the boat wobbled under his movement and he steadied himself on the island.
The basin that stood at the centre of the small island was only a few feet away from him. So, he clambered up the rest of the rocks, coming up to the shallow basin that was filled with a silvery liquid he couldn't identify. He couldn’t see the locket inside and began to feel himself panic again.
Had the Dark Lord returned to retrieve the locket already? Was he too late? Did someone warn him he’d be trying to steal it? Who would have warned him? Only Pandora and Kreacher knew of what he was doing.
“A person must drink all of the potion in the basin, Master Regulus.” Kreacher explained. “The Dark Lord made Kreacher do it last time. Kreacher saw horrible things, saw painful things, but Kreacher can do it again for Master Regulus.”
“No!” Regulus shouted abruptly. “No, Kreacher. I don't want you to go through that again. I’ll drink it and you’ll help me through it. If it all must be consumed to retrieve the locket, then make sure I drink every last bit. Do you understand?”
“But-”
“Do you understand?” He repeated more sternly.
“Yes, Master Regulus.” Kreacher bowed.
Regulus felt in his pocket again, checking to make sure the fake locket was still there. It hadn't moved. He took a deep breath and grabbed the small shell-like cup on the edge of the basin, scooping the silver liquid and filling the cup to the brim. Then, he quickly threw back the liquid as if taking the worst shot he had ever had. It was cool as it slid down his throat, but as it trailed through his body, it began to burn. The liquid was attacking every internal organ in his body. It was awful, but nothing he swore he couldn't handle. So, he took another large swig.
He continued forcing the liquid down his throat, his hands shaking and trembling, his legs weak like they might collapse under him at any moment. Then, he started hearing things, seeing things that he knew couldn't be there. It was awful. Like a movie of every one of his worst memories playing back to back.
First, he saw his mother standing tall over him like when he was a child, threatening to beat him if he cried one more time. Then, he saw the day Sirius left him, but he was laying motionless on the ground. He was covered in bruises and slashes, lying there in front of him, completely lifeless.
“Master Regulus must keep drinking!” He heard a voice say. “He is almost done, sir!”
Then, he felt the cool liquid slide down his throat again and the burning sensation worsened. His legs couldn't handle it anymore and he fell to the ground, tears staining his face as he stared at the dead body of his own brother.
Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.
“Master Regulus, just one more!”
One more time the cool liquid was forced into his mouth. He didn't think he could take it anymore. It was all too much. What sort of monstrous place was this? What sort of sick person would make him live through this? It was all so much.
He thought he felt a hand reach into his pocket. He tried to slap it away, but he was too weak.
Water. He needed water.
Without thinking, he pulled himself towards the cold, grey, water and dipped his hand in. Before he could pull it back out, a shrivelled, skeletal, grey hand reached up and latched onto his wrist.
Was this the potion making him see it? No. This was real. This was definitely real.
He yanked his arm back, letting out a terrified scream as he scurried away from the island shore. The hand that had grabbed him reached out of the water and before him were now rotting, skeletal bodies, trying to climb out of the water and towards him. He realized they were inferi as they moved closer. There were too many of them for him to count and they were now completely surrounding the island, closing in on them.
“Master Regulus! Kreacher has the real locket, we can go!” Kreacher yelled to him.
Regulus backed up and grabbed Kreacher’s arm, trying to apparate them both out of the cave, but nothing happened.
“The Dark Lord said no wizard could apparate in the cave!” Kreacher yelled. “Only Kreacher can apparate out!”
“What!?” Regulus shouted. “And you didn't tell me this!?”
The inferi continued to slowly move towards them, grabbing at Regulus’ legs. He tried every spell he could think of to get rid of them, but everything he tried only seemed to make things worse.
“Kreacher, remember what I said!” Regulus shouted, starting to really panic. “If I can't make it out, save yourself and take the locket and find a way to destroy it!”
More and more inferi grabbed onto Regulus, dragging him towards the water. He tried to kick them off, grab anything he could to stop himself from being dragged in. But there were too many of them. It was too easy for them to all overpower him.
Kreacher watched him, absolutely mortified at the sight of his master suffering the fate he almost did.
“GO KREACHER!” Regulus just managed to scream as he was dragged under the surface of the water. He heard the familiar popping sound and knew that at least if one of them could survive, it could be the more useful one.
Everything in him tried to fight his way back to the surface. He fought and he fought and he fought. A few times, he managed to just barely break the surface for air, but he grew tired and as water began to fill his lungs, it became harder to fight and easier to just close his eyes.
He was so tired - exhausted. Maybe drowning this way could be a peaceful death which he could choose to just succumb to. He could let the water continue to fill his lungs, let it fill them until his vision blurred and went black. It could be just like falling asleep. Falling asleep sounded nice.
And as he felt his body grow weaker and he could no longer breathe, he finally stopped fighting, letting the inferi who held onto every one of his limbs, drag him further down. Then, his vision began to blur, slowly darkening and as he closed his eyes, he could have sworn he saw orange lights waving above the surface.
Then, he felt yet another pair of arms, wrapping themselves around his waist and yanking him further. But they didn't yank him down… Was he being pulled back up? He couldn't really tell, his directions had become so confused.
He just wanted to go to sleep. And so he did.
It was weird, thinking that you were dying and being willing to accept it. People always said that when you die, your life would flash before your eyes. But he didn't see any memories, he didn't see anything at all, just a black, empty void ahead of him. But he did hear a voice. A voice he was so familiar with, but hadn't heard in so long. A voice that reminded him of home - of his real home.
Come on, Reg… Please just breathe… Reg please…
The voice felt so distant, like it was echoing from the other end of an empty ballroom, but it grew closer.
“COME ON, REG! DAMN IT, PLEASE JUST BREATHE!” He heard them yell.
Then, as if jolted back to reality, Regulus began to cough and hack and splutter, trying to expel as much of the water from his lungs as he could. He coughed up so much water he thought he could have filled a bucket. As he coughed the last of it out, he felt the force of a hand, smacking at his back, trying to help him. He finally inhaled roughly. Oh air, that sweet and sort of salty, air.
He was completely freezing and shivering violently and when he finally caught enough of his breath, he flung himself around, needing to know if his saviour was really there.
“Sirius?” He asked through heavy breaths.
Behind him, Sirius had stood up again and was breathing heavily as well, soaking wet and shivering. He whipped his head up at Regulus as he panted.
“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?” He shouted, startling Regulus. “DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH OR SOMETHING!?”
Regulus didn't know what to say. So, he didn't say anything as he stood back up and pulled his older brother into the tightest hug he had ever given him. Sirius didn't move for a second, a little caught off guard by the hug, but he welcomed it, hugging his brother back.
“I’m sorry, Sirius.” Regulus finally whispered as he held him tight. “I was just- I was trying to-”
“It’s okay. You’re okay now.” Sirius whispered back. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I shouldn't have yelled. Let’s just get you the hell out of here.”
Sirius finally let go of Regulus and turned around, looking for someone.
“Kreacher? How do we get out of here?” Sirius asked the house elf who Regulus had not seen. He was still trembling.
“Th-The boat, sir.” Kreacher stuttered. “We must take the boat back out the way we came.”
Sirius yanked the chain of the boat again and pulled the boat in. He helped Regulus into the boat and Kreacher stumbled in after him. Then, Sirius pushed the boat back out, quickly hopped in and rowed them back to the other side.
When they had finally reached the entrance of the cave, they were all shivering from the sharp winter air of the early morning mixed with their clothes that were still soaking wet.
“Take my arm.” Sirius said. “You’re far too weak to apparate yourself.”
Regulus’ first instinct was to argue back that he was not weak, but he did feel weak and there was no point in arguing with Sirius. So, he scowled but grabbed Sirius’ arm.
“Kreacher, meet us at my London flat where you found me.” Sirius ordered, then he apparated, pulling them away from that cold, vile place.
If he never had to see that cave again, it would still be too soon.