. * ✧ ❤ — 𝙍𝙀𝙂𝙐𝙇𝙐𝙎 ... 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝘿𝙄𝙏𝙀𝙐𝙍 ,
harry’s outburst settles a crease in regulus’ brow; he wrinkles his nose. “yes, i gave it to kreacher. i’d trust him with my life, and he’s plenty capable. or… i thought he was enough.” but it’s not the house-elf’s fault. it’s regulus’—for having overestimated his power, and having underestimated the power of a horcrux.
looking back, he knows he was a fool. he knows it was a mistake not to have seen its destruction through to the end. even now he doesn’t know if his plan was out of cleverness or fear—or perhaps both. regulus is as aware of his own power as he is his limitations, and he knows that the ranks of voldemort’s armies were far more experienced, far older than himself. they had almost every advantage over him. almost.
“the burrow…” he mumbles, and offers a cursory look around the little… home. he knows who lives here just as he knows everything else there is to know about the names worth knowing. it’s difficult to hide the distaste in his lips as he admires the house that is so very unlike his own, but he’s not here to pass judgement. he can’t judge, anymore. “i’m sorry. you were never meant to be burdened with this task.” it belongs to regulus—and he alone. “are you him? the chosen one, meant to destroy him?”
when regulus wrote that letter all those years ago, he himself wasn’t sure he believed there was such a person. a large part of him believed that voldemort would win, and that nothing anyone—including himself—could do would stop him. but a small, very powerful part of himself wanted so badly to believe he was wrong. and he died with that hope.
“if there’s any information on the horcruxes besides what i know, it’ll be in my family’s archives. you won’t find a better collection of information anywhere in the world.” a carefully-cultivated assemblage of ancient magic lost to time. “but what i know is that a horcrux can only be destroyed by magic stronger than itself. and i thought… i thought kreacher’s magic would be enough.”
harry’s brows shoot up a shock, ❛ are we discussing the same kreacher ? ❜ he couldn’t imagine trusting him with anything, let alone something as important as one’s life. the house elf had spent the entirety of harry’s short time at grimmauld place berating him and far more importantly ... berating sirius. he’d known that his godfather was the black sheep of the family, but he hadn’t been expecting this.
❛ is positively wonderful and we’re lucky to be welcomed with open arms. ❜ he seethes quietly, filling in the silence created by regulus trailing off. the weasleys’ had done more for him than he could possibly thank them for. he’d never make up for the number of times they endangered themselves to protect him. for now, harry sets aside his anger at the smallest hint of judgement against them, shifting uncomfortably at the apology. there were plenty who would argue it was his destiny. ❛ i’ve never fancied the idea that anyone is meant to be burdened with a task but ... i’m not alone in doing this. ❜ that’s the only way they’d beat him. together.
the chosen one. he’d heard it enough times in his life that it didn’t affect him quite like it once had, but hearing it from regulus feels … heavier. he doesn’t think of himself as such, but a solemn, ❛ yes, yes i am. ❜ falls from his lips regardless. he couldn’t hide from the prophecy any longer. dumbledore had told him that it wasn’t set in stone, it was only as real as they made it. but voldemort had been treating it as if it were real ever since he murdered harry’s parents. it was about time he did too, no more running from it.
there’s a long pause, ❛ i’m sorry, you ... you believed a house elf’s magic would be stronger than a piece of voldemort’s soul ? ❜ harry can practically hear hermione’s frustrated voice in the back of his head, chastising him for making house elves out to be weak. but it wasn’t as if he thought they were weak, he just didn’t believe a single one of them to be stronger than voldemort. ❛ how likely is it that those archives aren’t overrun or destroyed by death eaters ? ❜