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This Final Adventure

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Regulus Black sat in his kitchen; an empty bottle of Firewhiskey still clenched in his hand. His head was fuzzy from the copious amounts of alcohol he had just downed, yet his thoughts were never more clear than they were in that moment. It was an amazing thing, how you could go your whole life with a certain attitude - a firm set a beliefs, only for it all to change within minutes. And everything had changed. After tonight, everything would be different. It would be gone.

Regulus picked his head up off the cool wood of the kitchen table and snapped his fingers clumsily. “Kreacher,” he called out, his voice rough from disuse.

A tiny elf with a bulging nose and puffs of white hair protruding from his bat-like ears appeared with a crack in front of him. He bowed down with his nose nearly touching the ground. “Kreacher is here, Master Regulus.”

“Stand up straight, Kreacher. Please,” he gently requested. He harbored a soft spot for the elf who had more or less raised him. His first friend. The first person – and yes, he thought of him as a person – that he could remember truly caring for.

As Kreacher stood up and seemed to get a good look at his favorite member of the Black family, his eyes widened ever so slightly, then narrowed. “Is Master Regulus hungry?” he probed. “Kreacher thinks Master looks like he needs to eat.”

Regulus drew in a deep breath then stood up. The necklace, which was clenched tightly in his right hand, he dropped subtly into his pocket. He looked down at Kreacher. The elf’s brow was furrowed; he looked concerned and worried for Regulus, who plastered a reassuring smile on his face.

“No Kreacher, I’m not hungry,” he smiled, though he knew it must have looked strained. “I need you to bring me somewhere,” he whispered.

***

“Well done, Regulus!” Bellatrix laughed as a member of The Order fell to the ground with a sickening thud.

Pride swelled inside him at the sight of the Mudblood’s contorted body. The Dark Lord would be pleased, of that he was sure. Another one of those filthy, Dumbledore-loving fools was wiped from this world. And it had been because of him; a seventeen year old boy – as they had constantly reminded him, who had been mocked and told he was too young to make a difference. And now he’d shown them all. Regulus Black was a manwho deserved to be taken seriously.

Suddenly he heard the crackling of leaves on the ground, which suggested the rest of the members of that disgusting organization were on their way. He and Bellatrix kept their wands out and both of them peered through the dense trees of the forest, but it was no use. It was too dark to make out anything.

Not that he or his cousin were scared by any means, but they wereoutnumbered. Bellatrix grabbed Regulus by his wrist and pulled him in the opposite direction of the oncoming footsteps.

“Move!” she ordered.

He dawdled for a moment and weighed his options. A part of him knew he could fight them and take them all out. He was more than confident in his magical abilities. Regulus shook his head then ripped his arm out of Bellatrix’s grasp; he pointed at himself, at his wand, then towards where he assumed his enemies were coming from.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. “Don’t be foolish, boy!” she hissed. “Now is not the time! But I promise you; you will have plenty of opportunities to take out the Mudbloods and the Bloodtraitors – like your insufferable brother.”

He flinched at the mention of his brother. For years he had pretended that he had no brother. With an annoyed sigh, he lowered his wand and slowly backed away. Bellatrix grabbed his arm once more and begun to pull him along.

“Now come!” she snapped her fingers.

They ran for a few moments then both took cover behind some trees. Silently, they peeked around them and watched the dead girl’s friends finally arrive.

Regulus felt his heart thump madly in his chest when he recognized the long black hair of his brother and the short messy hair of his brother’s best friend. A slight twinge of jealousy arose in Regulus as he watched Sirius and James together. The two of them had always seemed more like brothers than he and Sirius ever had.

***

Regulus stood on the edge of the cliff, the wind whipped through his hair and the small elf next to him shivered violently. He stared out across the raging sea and deep down he knew that this would be the last time he would see the sky, feel the breeze, or smell the salty aroma of the outdoors. Never again would his eyes take in the stars, the moon, the sun or the clouds. Although he felt much older; he would never reach his twenties.

Feeling as if he was moving in slow motion, he turned back to face the rocky archway and felt the corners of his eyes begin to prickle. He shook his head jerkily to rid himself of the feeling, as he could not afford to let himself succumb to such weakness.

He felt the warmth of Kreacher’s small hand on his elbow; he looked at the elf and smiled.

“How do we get in, Kreacher?” he asked, almost as if asking how to get to friend’s home.

A part of him was surprised by just how calm his voice sounded when his insides were screaming. Maybe he should have had one more drink before partaking in this final adventure.

***

Regulus had grown tired. The constant fighting and chaos started to wear on him. He hadn’t dreamed of murdering people when he was a small boy. But then again, who did? The Dark Lord, perhaps. Regulus was almost positive he most likely had.

Regulus had been ordered to take Barty Crouch Jr. with him on a raid. Barty was the newest and most secret member of the Death Eaters. The Dark Lord had thought it one of his finest acquisitions up to that point; he had the son of such a high ranking Ministry official amongst his ranks.

As they both stood staring into the window of the home of an Order member, Regulus let out a quiet sigh. The woman had no idea what was about to hit her, he thought, as she sat down on her couch, placed her wand aside and closed her eyes.

“Everything alright, Black?” Crouch eyed him suspiciously. “Not going soft on me, are you?” he laughed.

Soft? No. More like, finally awaking from a long nightmare.

“Of course not,” Regulus snapped.

Crouch snorted with an air of confidence and arrogance – Regulus wanted to hex him – then he began to sneak along the side of the house.

“Come on then,” Crouch whispered, once he reached the front door.

Regulus reluctantly followed behind and watched his young partner blast the door open. The woman’s shriek of surprise ran right through him like a knife and he hesitated for a moment, wondering why he had been feeling this way as of late. Remorseful. Sickened by what he has done and what the others continue to do.

Goosebumps formed on Regulus’ arms and his stomach turned due to Crouch’s high pitched laugh as he pointed his wand at the girl.

Crucio!” Crouch screamed in delight.

He had no choice but to join in, lest he look suspicious. He pointed his wand at her and felt guilt wash over him as he watched the blonde woman writhe in even more pain on the floor. Regulus truly hated himself in that moment, while he watched the fear grow increasingly in her eyes. She begged and pleaded for them to stop, and for a moment, Regulus almost faltered. Almost.Instead, he hung his head and tried his best to ignore her gut wrenching screams.

What had he been doing with his life?

Crouch took it one step further; a jet of green light exploded from the tip of his wand and, although it saddened him to his core, Regulus felt a small bit of comfort in seeing that at least the woman felt no more pain.

***

Kreacher led Regulus to an antechamber of the cave. The elf had not stopped shaking since the two of them arrived to the cliffside; either from cold or from fear. Regulus suspected both.

“T-t-to ent-t-t-ter,” his little teeth chattered, as they reached what he told Regulus was the entrance. “K-Kreacher or M-M-Master Regulus must-t-t… they m-must,” his wide, fear-filled eyes seemed to be begging Regulus not to make him say.

Regulus placed his hand on the elf’s shaking shoulders. “Must what, Kreacher? Tell me.”

It was an order.

Kreacher hung his head and whispered softly, “Master or Kreacher must use b-b-blood, sir. Blood is r-r-required to en-n-nter.”

Regulus wrinkled his nose, quite disappointed in The Dark Lord for using such crude measures. He expected more. Some sort of advanced dark magic, or some sort of test to prove your worth. Although, the more he thought about it, the only thing that seemed to matter to Voldemort, the only thing he valued more than power, was the quality of one’s blood, so maybe it wasn’t much of a surprise at all.

Regulus patted Kreacher’s head and thanked him; the elf shook even more. He knew Kreacher was terrified. Kreacher knew what waited for them behind that wall.

He needed something to draw blood with and cursed himself for leaving his dagger behind. Regulus scanned the ground until he spotted a jagged rock which looked like it would do the trick. His heart thrummed like wild in his chest as he picked it up and brought it up to his forearm -right below his elbow. He pushed down hard and in one painfully swift movement, and an inward hiss, he dragged the sharp edge of the stone against his skin. Kreacher seemed unable to watch.

Once he was satisfied with the amount of blood leaking from his arm, he pressed it against the wall of the cave and watched in part amazement, part pure fear as the wall melted away in front of him.

“Lumos,” he said, lighting the tip of his wand. “Come on, Kreacher,” he beckoned his companion forward.

***

It was a risky move, he knew it, but gut-clenching guilt had led him to the decision. He had to warn them. They had to know.

Regulus hid in a dank, dirty alleyway in London and watched for any sign of his brother coming from his flat. Thanks to the informant, all the Death Eaters knew there was an Order Meeting that night. Apparently, it was an important one.*

Regulus, and the rest of the Death Eaters, who were not Voldemort’s most trusted servants, had no idea who the Order’s traitor was, the only thing they knew was that they had one. But that was only part of what Regulus had come to warn Sirius about.

If he were caught, he knew punishment would be swift and it would be severe, but he had no other choice. Once Regulus made up his mind about something, he always followed through. It was that line of thought which got him involved with the Death Eaters to begin with. Something he increasingly grew less and less proud of. He had been a sodding fool.

In his retrospection, he was startled hearing a door slam. His heart caught in his throat when he saw Sirius walk down his stairs and towards his motorbike, which was parked on the side of the road.

It was now or never, he thought.

Regulus squared his shoulders, pulled up his hood and stepped out from the shadows of his hiding place. Sirius seemed to notice and immediately drew his wand.

“You have roughly five seconds before I blast you into next week,” Sirius called in a voice like sandpaper.

Arrogant wanker, Regulus thought with a sigh.

He put both hands up, indicating he meant no harm and continued walking towards him. Sirius squinted his eyes, it seemed he was trying to get a better look at the man approaching him.

“It’s me, you arse,” Regulus whispered.

Sirius’ eyes widened subtly then narrowed. He huffed and lowered his wand.

“What the fuck are youdoing here?” he asked, trying to sound bored and aloof, yet a bit of surprise leaked through the facade. After all, it had been nearly two years since they had spoken. Roughly six years since they had been on, what could be called, ‘decent terms.’

Regulus did not have the time or the patience to deal with his brother’s ire. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible and decided to cut right to the chase.

“The Dark Lord is coming for James and Lily Potter,” he said blunty.

It was clear from the expression on Sirius’ face, that he had not be aware of this news. Even in the moonlight, Regulus could see all color had drained from Sirius’ face, and the pain in his eyes - he looked like a man who had just been set on fire.

After a moment, he seemed to collect himself. His eyes darkened. “You’re lying,” he said through his teeth.

Regulus sighed in exasperation. He had a feeling Sirius would not believe him.

“I swear to you, He is coming for them.”

“Why? How? Why are you -” Sirius faltered.

“Sirius, you have a traitor amongst you - ”

Sirius growled and began to pace; he pulled at his hair with both hands. “I knew it,” he muttered.

“I don’t know who it is. I wish I could tell you, but only those who are in The Dark Lord’s inner-circle have any idea of his or her identity.”

It was silent for a heartbeat and then Sirius rounded on him.

“And why should I believe you?” he roared. His eyes were filled with pure fury. Regulus took a step back. He had not seen his brother so angry in quite some time.

Regulus hung his head. “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, Sirius,” he whispered to the ground. “You were right in a lot of ways,” he admitted out loud for the first time. He felt the weight lifting from his shoulders with each word. “I - I’m trying to make up for my past mistakes the best I can.”

Regulus looked up. Sirius stared intently into his eyes. Regulus wasn’t quite sure what Sirius was looking for, but he seemed to have found it - his eyes softened.

“You’re truly serious, Reg?” Sirius asked, almost sounding like he’d hoped Regulus would change his answer. He sounded desperate.

Regulus snorted, “No, I thought you were,” he said at a lame attempt at a joke his brother had made more times than he could count.

Sirius shook his head and let out a small chuckle. “Not the time, Regulus. Not the time.”

Suddenly, Regulus grimaced as he felt the horrid tattoo on his left arm burn. He was being called.

“Sirius, I have to go. Please, warn them,” he said quickly.

Sirius nodded solemnly while extending his hand.

“Erm… Thanks,” Sirius said.

Regulus slowly returned his brother’s handshake. “Take care of yourself, Siri,” he said and realized that he meant it.

Sirius surprised him by offering Regulus a genuine smile. “You, too… Brother.”

Regulus couldn’t explain it, but he felt as if this were the last time he would see Sirius. It felt like a goodbye.

***

Regulus entered the dark unknown with cautious steps as Kreacher whimpered behind him. Other than the sphere of dim light surrounding the pair, everything looked as if it were smothered in the blackest ink. Water could be heard dripping in a staccatoed rhythm in the distance, their warm breath fogged out in front of them, almost taunting him; each cloud he exhaled reminded him that those breaths were numbered. The thought only intensified with the sour, rotting smell of death that assaulted his nostrils. Regulus felt a chill in his heart which had nothing to do with the temperature.

Kreacher sniffled behind him; Regulus was disgusted with himself for putting the elf through this once more, but he had to do what he sought out to accomplish. The Dark Lord must be stopped.

“S-sir?” Kreacher broke into his concentration and pulled at the hem of his cloak.

Regulus turned and lit Kreacher’s face with his wand. He had to admit, the dark shadows under Kreacher’s eyes made him look quite sinister - it fit the mood perfectly. Nevertheless, Regulus waited patiently for him to continue.

“Sir. There is a b-b-boat, Master Regulus.” Kreacher stopped, looked up - his pupils dilated in fear, and gulped. “Kreacher kn-nows the way,” he croaked.

Motioning for Kreacher to go forward, Regulus surprised himself once more with just how unaffected by their surroundings he sounded when he spoke. “Please. Lead the way, Kreacher.”

As they travelled on Kreacher warned him to avoid the water at all costs. There was something about that underground lake that left him feeling uneasy. It was like the eye of a storm; calm for now, but sure to destroy every living thing near it at any moment - without warning.

Regulus lowered his wand and tried to see what was lying beneath the glass-like surface, but saw nothing except his pale reflection. As he stared into his own emotionless eyes, he drew a deep breath and silently told himself that it would all work out in the end. This would be his greatest and final act.

This was something that would benefit all Wizards and Witches throughout Britain - the world maybe. From the moment he figured out the Dark Lord’s most closely guarded secret, he knew what he had to do. Voldemort had many secrets, that was true, but none were as detrimental to himand his cause as this one - His Horcrux.

***

This was it! Regulus thought. This was his chance, he could feel it! The Dark Lord required an elf for a service, and Regulus strongly suspected what that was.

Recently Voldemort had been boasting of perfecting magic mere mortals would not dare attempt, not even in their wildest nightmares. Magic which would make him more than man; it would make him indestructible - a god, he declared. From the way He spoke, Regulus had figured out exactly what Voldemort had done. There were many books in his childhood home; books which contained the darkest and most foul magic known to Wizardkind. He had read of Horcruxes his sixth year and he was positive that was what The Dark Lord had attempted and succeeded to make. If it was true - and Regulus’ gut told him it was, Voldemort would not be stopped. Regulus could not let that happen.

Carefully guarding his thoughts, he stepped up in front of Voldemort, his eyes cast down, and bowed respectfully.

“My Lord?” he whispered, not daring to look up until he was told.

“Ah, what is this?” Voldemort asked, though Regulus knew better than to answer.

Most of The Dark Lord’s musing questions were not intended to be answered. Regulus waited and felt Voldemort begin to circle him like the predator he was, assessing his prey.

Voldemort laughed, although it lacked humor. It was like ice. “Speak, Black,” he ordered, his voice as sharp as broken glass.

Still with his eyes focused on the hardwood floor beneath his feet, he answered. “My Lord. I wish to offer you my family’s elf, Kreacher. He is of the most loyal, most obedient, most-”

“That will do,” Voldemort stopped him.

It was silent for a heartbeat.

“Look at me,” he ordered. Regulus immediately obeyed and his grey eyes met Voldemort’s red ones.

Regulus felt Voldemort attempt to penetrate his thoughts. He knew that he could not block him out completely - doing so would suggest he had something to hide and would undoubtedly result in his death; he was sure of that.

Instead, he pushed only certain thoughts to the forefront of his mind. Kreacher parroting his parents’ beliefs. Kreacher serving Bellatrix - Voldemort’s number one follower - without complaint and obvious affection in his eyes. Kreacher offering to poison Sirius’ supper for befriending Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors.

Voldemort’s mouth contorted into what Regulus assumed was supposed to be a smile. It was grotesque.

“Bring him to me,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Tonight. By midnight.”

Regulus bowed once again. “As you wish, my Lord.”

He hoped that Kreacher would forgive him. He had a strong suspicion that his beloved friend was in for a very rough night.

***

Regulus watched in amazement as Kreacher stood at the edge of the water grasping into thin air. Suddenly a old, rusty chain exploded like thunder from the water - causing him to jump in shock - and landed in Kreacher’s outstretched hands.

Kreacher struggled while tugging the chain; he grunted and slipped to the ground with a soft thud. Regulus did not hesitate and ran over to help. He lifted Kreacher then wrapped the filthy, cold metal around his hands and began to pull.

There was something massive at the end of this chain. He assumed it must had been the boat in which Kreacher advised him they would need to reach their destination.

Regulus pulled and pulled until finally something began to happen. The water started to bubble, about fifteen feet out from the shore; he also heard a splash, as if a fish flopped out of the water and quickly dove back in. The chill that washed over him at the sound suggested what her heard was most likely more sinister than any aquatic life that could be living in that lake.

The grating sound of metal bending filled the cavernous area right before he saw it. A giant green, wooden mast, with a bone white skull perched on the top, first poked its way above the surface. Next the bow made its appearance and then, with one more final tug, the rest of Voldemort’s boat was floating atop black waves.

As it slowly sailed its way towards them, it seemed Kreacher’s resolve had finally broken. Tiny balled up fists clenched at Regulus’ robes. Kreacher buried his face into Regulus’ stomach and sobbed.

“Kreacher cannot! Kreacher cannot allow Master Regulus! He won’t!” he shrieked.

Another soft splash was heard in the distance.

If anything was left of his heart at that point, it was broken upon hearing Kreacher’s strangled protests. No one had ever cared for Regulus as much as the small creature who was coming undone before him. A tear escaped Regulus’ eye as he pried Kreacher from him and knelt down to reach his eye level.

“Kreacher,” he said. “Listen to me. Everything will be alright,” he lied.

Kreacher’s head whipped back and forth. “No!”

Regulus inhaled like it was the last breath he would ever take. He gripped Kreacher’s arms and looked him straight in his watery, bulging eyes.

“It will,” he tried to convince him. Kreacher shook his head once more. Regulus almost cracked a smile at the elf’s stubbornness. “Have I ever lied to you?” he smirked.

***

Regulus paced his bedroom for nearly two hours wondering how much longer until Kreacher returned. He ordered the elf to do whatever it was The Dark Lord required and then come straight home. It was a long shot, he knew, but he hoped that would work - that the elf’s magic was strong enough to bring him back, no matter what happened.

It couldn’t be much longer, he thought.

His stomach turned, his palms were sweating and his mouth felt like sandpaper. Maybe it didn’t work, he worried. Maybe Voldemort thought he would do just that - order Kreacher to return home, and found a way to prevent it. What if Regulus ordered Kreacher to his death? How could he live with himself if he had?

Regulus slowly sank down onto his bed and clasped his head in his hands. Each moment that passed brought more worry and more what ifs to his racing mind.

He needed a drink.

Regulus made his way down to the basement kitchen like a man who was sleepwalking. He was mildly aware of his surroundings, but everything felt clouded. Like he was in a thick fog. The only things that mattered to him were Kreacher’s safe return and the bottle of Firewhiskey he had hidden behind some cleaning potions.

His mother did not think it dignified of a man of Regulus’ status to indulge in the art of drinking as often as he had these last few months, so had taken to hiding bottles around the house. She didn’t understand, he needed it. The less time he spent coherently in his mind, the better. There were too many dark places in there that he did not wish to visit. The alcohol graciously washed those away - at least for a few hours, until it brought on the sweet nirvana that had become as essential to his daily survival as the blood which pumped in and out of his bitter heart.

Sitting at the kitchen table, he poured his liquid sanity into a glass - he filled it to the top. With one gulp, he downed the drink and felt euphoric deliverance as the familiar burn slid down his throat. If anything had happened to Kreacher, he was now more prepared to deal with it.

A loud crack went off like a bang in the hallway; Regulus nearly fell out of his seat.

His heart hammered and he quickly grabbed his wand from the pocket of his trousers. He pointed it at the door of the kitchen, not sure who might have made their way into his home.

“Kreacher?” he called out.

No response.

He stood up and inched his way towards the door. Regulus cursed the creaking floor beneath his feet. If it was an unwanted visitor there, they would know he was mere feet away.

Leaning against the wall, next to the door, Regulus held his wand at the ready.

“Master Regulus,” Kreacher said right before Regulus heard a thump which suggested Kreacher had fallen to the ground.

Regulus found a nearly unconscious Kreacher face down on the floor. He quickly scooped him up and brought him into the sitting room, where he conjured up a glass of water and a vile of Pepper-up potion. He held Kreacher like an infant and forced the water and a small amount of potion down his throat.

Regulus was sure his heartbeat could be heard throughout the room. Or maybe that was just the rush of blood pounding in his ears.

“Please be alright,” he begged. “Come on, Kreacher. Open your eyes. Please,” he whispered, his voice saturated in desperation.

For nearly ten minutes, Kreacher had barely stirred, until finally his eyes began to flutter. Regulus felt like a Hippogriff had been lifted from his chest. A smile broke out across his face and a single laugh espcaped his lips.

“Kreacher! Kreacher can you hear me?” he cried. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“Kreacher… Kreacher came back,” he mumbled sleepily. “Master Regulus… Master told - told Kreacher to come home. Kreacher came home.” He attempted to sit up.

Regulus helped Kreacher to sit upright and propped him up with a pillow. He asked Kreacher what had happened and Kreacher explained everything. He told him about the cave, the underground lake and the locket. When he tried to explain the potion Voldemort had forced him to drink, Kreacher was unable to continue. He scrunched his eyes closed and shook his head back and forth.

“Kreacher cannot say! Kreacher cannot say!” he shouted.

“It’s alright Kreacher,” Regulus said softly. “You don’t have to,” he assured him.

A tear fell from Kreacher’s eye and he nodded. “Thank you, Master Regulus,” he whispered.

Regulus could see that Kreacher was in dire need of rest. The elf swayed on the spot and looked as if he were struggling to keep his eyes opened. He ordered Kreacher to get some rest. Kreacher thanked him once more and with a crack, he was gone.

It had to be a Horcrux, he thought as he made his way back into the kitchen and poured himself another drink. What else would Voldemort need to protect in such a way? There was no doubt in his mind that the locket Kreacher spoke of was a piece of The Dark Lord’s soul - and it needed to be destroyed.

Regulus knew what he had to do.

There was a locket close to what Kreacher described sitting in a drawer in his room. It was a gift he had once given his ex. She had given it back to him after it had become clear that Regulus was involved with the Death Eaters. Just another thing he had lost to their cause.

He summoned the locket, a piece of paper and a quill, and wrote a note stating that he had figured out Voldemort’s secret and that he woulddestroy the Horcrux - he signed only with his initials. He knew that there was a good chance that he would not make it out alive, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he had much of a life to live anyhow.

He poured himself one more drink, sealed the locket and put his head down for a while - reflecting on his decisions and different paths he had taken in his short life. After what felt like hours, he snapped his fingers and called out for Kreacher. It was either now or never, he thought.

Kreacher appeared and he could tell the elf was worried about his rapidly declining appearance. He asked if Regulus was hungry, but he had a feeling Kreacher knew that was not the issue.

“No Kreacher, I’m not hungry,” he smiled, though he knew it must have looked strained. “I need you to bring me somewhere.”

***

All night he prepared for it, but now that it was here, Regulus lost a bit of his calm facade. Not that he was afraid to die - well maybe he was. Everyone is a least a little afraid of death, and if they say they are not, they’re clearly lying; or just mad. It wasn’t his fear which caused him to lose the cool demeanor he portrayed the entire evening, it was Kreacher’s panic. He had to make sure that Kreacher would never utter a word of this to his family. Ever. It was for their protection. It would be best if his parents and Kreacher believed Regulus to be a loyal Death Eater, all the way to the end. Kreacher could not know why he was doing this, so he would not give him the thing Kreacher begged for - an explanation.

“Kreacher, listen to me!” he shook the elf’s shoulders with more force than he intended. “Now this is an order.”

Kreacher immediately stopped his screaming protests and became as still as a statue.

Regulus wiped his brow with the back of his hand. He reached into his pocket and took out the fake locket that he intended to switch the Horcrux with. His pulse was beating like a bass drum as he placed it in Kreacher’s hand and closed his fist for him. Kreacher’s eyes bulged, but he did not say a word.

“When I drink all of the contents of this basin – and you must make sure I do – you need to switch the lockets,” he began to order. Kreacher started to shake his head. “Kreacher!” Regulus shouted. “You need to switch the lockets. And no matter what happens - You. Have. To. Go. Home.”

Turning his back on Kreacher, he walked up to the basin, took out his wand and conjured a goblet to drink from. He drew a heaving breath, closed his eyes and repeated his mantra - everything would work out in the end. Kreacher and his family would be safe - they had to be.

“When you get home. Destroy the locket, Kreacher,” he said before he began. “Do whatever you have to do to make sure that thing is destroyed. Do you understand?” his eyes pierced Kreacher’s, just begging him to understand. Kreacher gave a stiff nod and sniffled. “And whatever you do, you cannot tell anyone what happened tonight. That is essential. No one. Got it?”

Kreacher hesitated for a moment and then nodded once more.

This was it, he thought and plunged the goblet into the emerald liquid that just begged to aid to his demise.

“Kreacher?” Regulus’ voice hitched.

“Yes, Master Regulus,” Kreacher said in a shaky voice.

He told himself he would not become sentimental, but the elf had to know how much he meant to him. It was the last gift he could give him.

“I just want you to know, that no matter what happens,” he gulped. “you’ve always been my favorite.”

Tears sprang from Kreacher’s eyes and it was all Regulus could do to keep his own safely tucked away.

He raised the goblet to his lips and whispered sincerely, “I love you, Kreacher.”

He took the first drink and Kreacher’s sobs, along with his surroundings began to slowly fade.

At first the burn in his throat was reminiscent of his beloved Firewhiskey. At first. Quickly the fire in his throat spread to his chest and into his stomach - the pain started to crescendo. It became unbearable. He literally could not deal with the pain. Never in his life had he experienced anything like it - not even the Cruciatus curse could hold a candle to the intense inferno that was destroying his insides.

Still, he did not want to frighten Kreacher any more than he already had and swallowed his screams of agony.

The second drink was worse, if that was even possible. And with the second drink, everything around him disappeared.

***

Marlene McKinnon looked beautiful in the moonlight. She laughed in a way which suggested she did not have a care or worry in the world. That could be farther from the truth. Regulus knew she suffered horribly. Her friends had been dying, she had been fighting and the uncertainty of living through the night wore on her and everyone she loved each day.

Regulus assumed The Dark Lord sent him on this raid on purpose. It had been no secret that the two of them shared a few blissful months together. Until he foolishly joined Voldemort. She couldn’t love him and did not even know who he’d become, she spat as she threw the locket Regulus had given her in his face. At the time Regulus told himself good riddance. Who wanted to be with a Blood-traitor bitch anyhow? How utterly stupid he was. And now Regulus was forced to participate in her death. Could he even do it?

She and her entire family danced and laughed in their living room, completely unaware of what was about to happen. Bellatrix chuckled in only the way she could when murder was so readily available to her.

There were seven of them there that night. All of which blasted down the McKinnon’s door and rained a hellfire of spells down upon them all. Regulus made it look like he helped; no one would know that he actually tried to shield Marlene, but it was no use. Bellatrix got to her amongst all the chaos.

Regulus felt his heart shatter upon hearing Marlene’s scream, and as he watched her fall to the ground with the light forever taken from her perfect blue eyes. Bile rose in his throat and it took all of Regulus’ strength not to bring his wrath down upon each of those hooded, bloodthirsty, puppets. Marlene was gone - and so was he.

***

Heat. Fire. Pain. More pain. Regulus came to slowly, but was still not all there. He was on the ground with sweat pouring down his face. His vision was clouded and he was painfully aware of the blistering burning going on inside of him. He needed water. There was nothing in his life that he ever need more than the water he needed in that moment.

“Kreacher,” he called out, yet no sound came. “Kreacher,” he tried again and managed to make some noise.

This is how it ends then, he thought. He knew this had to be the end. It was entirely too painful to not be the beginning of his death. Regulus assumed death would be agonizing, but he never imagined it would be quite this bad. But even still, he wasn’t scared. Impatient was probably more accurate. If he was dying, then why was it taking so long? Why would death not hurry? Maybe this was warranted. After the death he had caused in his life, maybe this was even more than he deserved.

As he wished for it to all finally end, he did not realize he had been saying, “Water,” out loud.

He was vaguely aware of Kreacher’s bloodcurdling scream and the figures pouring onto the shore. He opened his eyes more widely and tried to focus. Even though on the inside he was a burning man, he felt like he was doused in ice water, which made its way into his ribcage and around his heart. Death seemed to be coming for him after all.

“Kreacher, leave! Now!” Regulus used all of the strength he could muster to give the order.

“But-”

“KREACHER! NOW!” he bellowed, then flopped to his side.

Surprisingly, he smiled upon hearing the loud crack which told him Kreacher had listened and Disapparated.

Clammy, deteriorating hands reached and grabbed at every inch of Regulus. Bones could be seen through the tears in their skin, their eyes were white and clouded over and spots of hair were missing from their scalps. Inferi. Regulus knew he should be petrified, but he felt the water, that he knew they were taking him to, would be sweet relief. He welcomed it and he welcomed the soulless creatures who began to drag him down into his, soon to be, watery tomb.

One of the Inferi embraced him from behind, like a lover who tried to be coy and surprise you with a game of, “guess who.” He did not fight nor did he struggle.

As he was dragged beneath the icy surface of the blackness, Regulus hungrily took a gulp to finally calm the raging wildfire. He inhaled the water, hoping it would soothe his burning lungs and end his suffering. Lower and lower he sank. His ears were ringing and black spots formed before his eyes. At last, he thought. The most wonderful and blissful oblivion, which he normally chased after with a bottle, was moments away. Finally he would be at peace. He wasn’t sure if it was the depth of the water, or that he was dying, but everything began to fade.

***

Regulus bounced up and down in excitement. He couldn’t wait for Sirius to see what he could do! He learned a new trick this morning and just knew that his big brother would love it.

He gathered the four stones, put them in his pocket and ran from the back yard and right up to Sirius’ room. The smile wouldn’t have been able to be pried from his face with a crowbar.

He knocked at the door rapidly.

“Open up, Sirius! Come on! I want to show you something! Open up!” he whined.

In mid-knock, the door flew open. Standing with a bemused smirk on his face was his brother, who laughed quietly.

“Jeez, Reg. Where’s the fire?” he said, trying to sound annoyed, but the amusement leaked through.

Regulus didn’t wait to be invited in. He was too excited. He pushed right past Sirius and hopped from one foot to the other in the middle of the bedroom.

“Look, look, look! Look what I can do!”

Sirius shook his head, walked to his bed and sat down. He lifted his arm and gestured for Regulus to proceed. “Well. Let’s see then.”

It felt like Pixies were flying all around Regulus’ stomach. Now that he had an audience, he was nervous he wouldn’t be able to do it. The corners of his mouth turned down in a small frown.

“Aw, come on, Reg. Don’t be scared.”

Sirius was always seemed to know what Regulus was feeling. Even if Regulus didn’t say it out loud.

“I’m afraid you’ll think it’s stupid,” Regulus pouted.

Sirius got off the bed, walked over to his brother and put his arm around his shoulders.

“Reg, listen. You’re my little brother. I’ll always be proud of whatever you do,” he smiled and then playfully hit him in the arm. “Even if it’s rubbish,” he winked.

Regulus felt a little better at his brother’s words. His mouth crept up in a smile. He smacked Sirius back and laughed.

“Ok. Now watch!”

Regulus held his hand, palm up, and placed four stones on it. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his mouth puckered. Suddenly the biggest stone levitated about two inches off of his hand and the three other stones began to spin around it. Like the largest stone was the sun and the three others were tiny planets.

Sirius threw his head back and let out a bark-like laugh, which broke Regulus’ concentration. The stones fell to the ground. Regulus scowled.

“That was great, Reg!” Sirius clapped him on the back.

Regulus’ eyes lit up. “You really think so?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yep!” Sirius’ mouth popped on the P. “You’ve got loads of magic, Reg! When we’re both in Hogwarts in five years, they’re not going to know what hit them!” he exclaimed.

Regulus laughed a carefree one. “I can’t wait!”

Sirius ruffled Regulus’ hair. “The Black Brothers will be legends, Reg. Wait and see.”

That caused Regulus to puff his chest out. “You’re the best big brother ever, Siri!”

“You’re not so bad either, kid.”

***

Everything went black.

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