Chapter Text
"It's always so windy here..." this whisper barely escaped the dry lips. Even the chattering of teeth was louder, "But it's probably colder in the ground, right?"
The grave, every detail of which he knew by heart, didn't answer him in any way. Thus making him feel even more sad and pitiful. Before he could allow himself to show weakness, the guy quickly left the cemetery. Almost ran away, without looking back.
It was one thousand nine hundred and seventy-ninth year, and Regulus Black was about to turn eighteen. He had never been a fan of birthdays, and for good reasons. Every year, time after time, the "gifts" he received became increasingly worse: either his older brother got sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, or that very brother ran away forever, or the love of his life, disappointed beyond imaginable, turned away from him, or suddenly... his father died.
Not that Regulus loved him dearly, but still, there were some bright feelings for him. For some unknown reason, even despite the fact that all life this man was... just there. And nothing more. He existed both in portraits and in the house itself as a ghost. Only occasionally did he show signs of life, buzzing and repeating, "Listen to your mother, do not disgrace our noble family, Toujours Pur." Sirius, the older child, couldn't stand his father for such indifference, but Regulus... Regulus respected his family from birth, no matter how awful it truly was.
"Since your father died..." it was still tough for mother to talk. Even though three whole weeks had passed since the funeral. Regulus thought that such a steel woman should've recovered on the very first day, "And we burned the traitor from the tapestry," she no longer even called him by name. It was, in fact, really sad. What would Sirius feel if he found out? "From now on, the only heir of the Black family is you, Regulus."
If she had said this literally a year or two ago, he would've probably jumped and hopped joyfully, like a hare. Maybe he would've even hugged her (and then received a scolding in response instead of affection). After all, once it seemed like there was nothing more important than becoming the heir, the pride of the family. It seemed like he had to live for this purpose only. And now? Absolute indifference, not a single emotion.
Now he was worried about much more important things — those that went beyond the borders of Grimmauld Place. He didn't care about his childhood feud with his brother for the title of heir anymore. Regulus was more worried about what would happen to the world if he continued to sit idly by. What would all of magical Britain turn into?
"Don't you dare let me down," and here were the angry notes in her voice again. Gradually, his mother blossomed from a withered flower into a cruel snake again, "You're the only hope now, Regulus."
She was right. Now he actually was the only hope left, because he knew a terrible secret. A secret that could rid the world of the so-called Dark Lord. The guy barely restrained the desire to wince, the taste of contempt lingering on his tongue. Lord, yeah, as if. There's nothing oh so wonderful about that little pathetic man.
It's a pity that Regulus realized this only now. It's a shame that all this time he was so obsessed, so devoted. Especially to the bastard who dared to hurt someone important and valuable — his beloved house el– his friend. The Blacks don't forgive things like that. Just as they don't forgive terrible goals that require numerous victims.
"...you yourself understand, Regulus... if at least someone dares to betray me, to disobey me, they and their families will not see another day. Even pure-blood wizards will not be pardoned. Remember this, as it applies to you as well. I will stop at nothing."
When Regulus finally saw the light, he understood why his loved ones reacted so badly to the mark in the past.
Nevertheless, he still hoped that at least one person had not yet written him off. The very one, who came into this world through the woman he hated deeply; the one, who had never even said goodbye properly. The very one who had been a disappointment to Walburga, and a dear brother to Regulus, despite everything.
"...I didn't expect you to actually come," in fact, he wanted to say completely different words. He wanted to thank Sirius, to ask how's life going, to spend a couple of minutes just like in their childhood, yet nothing but learned politeness escaped his mouth. And this, apparently, infuriated the guy opposite even more, "I have to tell you something."
"Figured that out myself. C'mon, spill it quickly, 'cause I'm already tired of you," in response there was almost a growl, like of a dog's.
"This is important. Really."
Before he might die a horrible death, Regulus wanted to talk to him, his older brother. There was also another candidate, but even a fool could understand that he'd never look the Slytherin in the eye again. Neither would he have any conversations. So that left only Sirius.
As it seemed, Sirius hated his brother as fiercely as he once hated Severus Snape. But... maybe that wasn't really true. After all, he came here today to talk.
"You have to believe me," the guy looked at him like at a madman, "That Pettigrew of yours, that "Wormtail"... he's not who he claims to be."
"What are you talking about, brat? Have you completely lost your mind after living with maman?"
"Sirius, I'm not joking. I see him at the Dark Lord's meetings. He has a mark. He's a Death Eate–"
He didn't even have time to finish speaking, when suddenly his brother slammed him into the wall with all might. He didn't break any bones, but definitely did trample Regulus' heart and soul. All that was left was to spit on them and then take a French leave.
"Barking mad, is what you are! What the actual hell are you talking about?!" Sirius tugged at robes, barely holding back from punching his brother in the face, "It's not April Fools' Day today, if you suddenly got lost in the dates!" in fact, it was he who got lost in the dates. He even forgot what date it was today.
"I told you I wasn't joking!.. I'm warning you, idiot, I want to help."
"Go help your head, lunatic! How did you even come up with this? Or did your pretty little friends help you?"
The older brother almost mocked him. Did not believe a word, no matter how sincerely Regulus tried to squeeze out his voice. Knowing in his mind that Sirius would never listen, he tried to convey the truth. To prove that that guy couldn't be trusted. In response, he received, "It's you that can't be trusted!".
Ah, perhaps Regulus was wrong after all. Perhaps he was hated after all.
"Sirius, I just want you all to be safe," the voice sounded pitiful. How unbecoming of an heir, "Pettigrew is a very loyal follower, this won't lead to anything good..."
"Why the fuck are you accusing my friends? Have nothing better to do? Go kill some Muggles then!!"
"Sirius! I swear, I'm telling the truth!.."
What did he expect? That his brother would trust him, then help him with an incredibly difficult task? Well... yes, Regulus was counting on that. He thought that Sirius would lend a helping hand, together they would get rid of the cursed locket, and then– then–
Perhaps James Potter himself would understand and forgive him. At least that. The Slytherin didn't dare pray for more.
"I don't know what you got into your head, but," the young man pushed him again with his bony back into the stone wall, "You won't get James back this way. He's already married to Lily, James loves Lily, do you understand?!"
Two different truths were hard to swallow at the same time. It was so painful that Regulus had to close his eyes and take a deep breath through a nose. Everything was fine. He knew it all very well. He couldn't change it, no matter how hard he tried. But the realization didn't make him feel any better.
"Now... not everything's about Ja... Potter," yeah, right. The older brother wasn't buying any of that, "I'm worried about you as well. Pettigrew will definitely–"
Sirius had always been a hot-tempered person. It didn't even take much effort to get him mad.
"Enough! Tell your little memorized stories as much as you want," the evil grin, like of a mad dog's, wasn't frightening at all. Instead, it brought a terrible, oppressive melancholy, "But I won't let you destroy my family with them!"
Ah.
So that's how it is.
In an instant, the last spark of hope in his soul died out, the youthful face stopped expressing any emotions, being able to feel something was completely out of the question. Regulus instantly forgot how to breathe after these words reached the ears. "His family," huh? A family that certainly included the Potters, Lupin, and even that traitor Pettigrew, but certainly not his own brother. Certainly not a person who had the same blood in his veins.
Right now, Sirius literally said that he didn't consider Regulus family. It would've been better to just die right here and now.
"Your family..."
"Yes, idiot," his brother recoiled from him, as if in disgust, "If it's between them and you, I'll believe them."
Regulus wanted to cry like a little offended boy. But Sirius would hate him for it even more.
He'd never believe. Even when he'd hear about such a concept as "horcruxes". No one would help, no one would extend that much-needed helping hand. Because Regulus was marked by the Lord, because he was a Slytherin, because he was born into the Black family. "It'd be better if I had never been born at all," he thought, looking at the hatred in the gray eyes of the guy opposite.
He has to get rid of the horcrux all alone. He has to swallow the sadness and resentment, then do everything himself.
"...I just wasted my precious time," Sirius was taken aback for a moment. He expected something like "fuck you, I hate you!", but definitely not this, "Well, in that case, goodbye. From now on, I'll never dare to disturb you ever again."
"Because I'm going to die today anyway," he added mentally, barely holding back a bitter smile.
When Regulus was leaving, his brother shouted, "Well then go! Go to your murderous friends and don't show your face again! I hope you drop dead!". And only when he returned home, when he accidentally looked at the calendar Lily had given him, did he suddenly remember,
"Today is... Regulus'..." a pause, "Birth... day," instant realization. With a jerk, Sirius threw the calendar and everything else off the table onto the floor, drowning out his feelings with a loud banging.
***
"...aste... lus... mast...! Master Regulus!.. Can you hear me, master Regulus?!"
He remembered nothing but pain, pain and pain. There was so much of it that it literally was murdering him from the inside, while still leaving alive. With lungs burning, with scratches stinging here and there on his body, Black was choking on both the poison and the cold dirty water at the same time. How disgusting. To be honest, he was more than ready to just pass away right now. However, the fragile palms continued to hit his chest, pressing somewhere in the heart area and bringing him back to reality. Bringing him back to life.
Regulus didn't even quite understand who was talking to him. Only after another fifteen seconds, when the water rolled up to his throat along with the vomit, he remembered: his faithful house elf, Kreacher, had come here with him. It was also he who helped to turn on the side and puke all the contents out in a stinking puddle.
"Master, my dear, brave master...!" the hands gently stroked his trembling back, like of a child's. Even his mother never did anything like that, "Master Regulus, you're alive, oh what a miracle!.."
Alive? Is he actually alive? He can't really tell by the terrible sensations.
"Forgive, oh please forgive the old Kreacher for disobedience! But– but Kreacher couldn't!.. Couldn't let you die!"
For some time, the guy was simply coming to his senses. Just recently (an hour or five seconds ago?) he was drowning in the lake, he was being pulled to the bottom, while screaming silently. Just like in childhood, he cried and called, "Sirius...! James...!", although he understood that these two wouldn't hear him. And even if they did, they still wouldn't come to help.
Yet suddenly the water was replaced by dry land. Suddenly he was sitting on the shore, helplessly looking around. It shouldn't be like this. He was supposed to die — this was exactly what he had planned for today. He even wrote a note, wished his mother good night as a farewell, carefully made his bed... he shouldn't have survived, but now for some reason he was still breathing.
When he began to hear Kreacher better, he realized: it was the house elf who, having disobeyed the order, saved him from a painful death. Somehow, he pulled his master out and even helped him start breathing again. But it shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't have happened.
"I hope you drop dead!" the last words he heard from his older brother echoed in his ears.
"I... was suppos..." the hand he cut at the entrance to the cave was still actively bleeding and aching, "...die... I had to," Regulus whispered, swallowing sour saliva. His faithful servant immediately burst into tears, hitting himself and saying that he'd never let his master go into the lake a second time.
Although Black didn't really plan to drown himself again. He had already had enough of it to understand that it was hellishly painful. But what wouldn't you do for your loved ones, wouldn't you?..
Finally, the teenager looked down. The real locket — and part-time Horcrux — lay nearby. For a rich aristocrat, it was a rather pitiful thing, even though it was an ancient relic. It was hard to believe that he had almost gone after his father for its sake. "Wait..." he thought as he was coming to his senses more and more, "Wait...! I have it, but I... have no idea how to destroy it."
Oh, he was such an idiot. Or actually lost his mind, as Sirius said. Now if the Lord finds out, it'll be so over. Not just for him, but for all his loved ones, whom he least wanted to expose to danger. Finding a way to destroy such complex and dark magic will take a lot of time, and until then... what should he do? Whatshouldhedowhatshouldhedo?! He doesn't want to die, or live, or lose any of his loved ones. He has no idea what he wants to do anymore. But something urgently needs to be done with the locket before Voldemort becomes too strong.
What had Kreacher done? Why had he saved him? He should've obeyed and just let him die–
"Damn..." he hissed through teeth chattering from the cold, "Damn, damn, damn!.. Idiot!" he hadn't even thought about what he would do if he survived. How self-confident and stupid do you have to be for that? "Idiot, idiot, stupid, stupid!"
"Master Regulus, please, don't hit yourself! Beat up old, useless Kreacher instead! Kreacher disobeyed you, Kreacher deserves a harsh punishment, beat Kreacher!"
This made the guy freeze (the fist stopped a millimeter from his black curly hair), and then looked at the house-elf in confusion. At the only living being that had been with him since birth, that had never turned away from him under any circumstances. Regulus had no one else except this tiny creature with sad, sorrowful eyes.
Even his mother didn't need him as much as Kreacher did.
"...I'd never... never hurt you," when tears flowed non-stop down his already wet cheeks, the house elf carefully wiped them away. And like a caring parent, tried to calm his master down.
***
"Mother, I sincerely apologize for bothering you..." although it was painful to speak, he continued, "But could you... protect my mind from someone else's penetration?"
The woman, not having time to sip her tea, looked at him with barely concealed amazement.
"You are stronger and more experienced than me in magic, especially dark magic," Regulus' smile trembled nervously, and his eyes seemed crazy, but he squeezed the words out of himself until the last, "Is there a spell that could provide me with complete protection? From any Legilimens?"
"...what is that cut on your hand? And such a fresh one, too?"
The guy quickly pulled the sleeve of his white shirt down to hide the terrible mark. Yesterday, having returned from the cave barely alive, he didn't even drink any healing potions. He simply passed out from fatigue, and early in the morning at breakfast began to ask his mother for help.
"Regulus, have you done something bad?" the disgusting vomit rose up to his throat again. Walburga hesitantly tried to penetrate his mind to find out, but her son was no slouch either. He knew a little about Legilemency himself, "Regulus Arcturus Black, you must answer when you are asked."
"N-no, mother, I... I didn't do anything..."
He shouldn't have survived. Kreacher shouldn't have saved him. Now everyone will be in danger.
"It's just... please" her son suddenly looked at her so desperately that even she felt uneasy, "Help me."
Mother studied him for a while, then looked again at the hand with a cut. After that she sighed heavily, putting her cup on the saucer.
"You never dared ask me for help before," she noted. Before Black could think that this was a refusal, the woman rose from her chair, "Come, the library has a whole section on Legilimency. I know that there are several spells there, exactly for your situation," gray eyes lit up with hope.
"And that– that will provide me complete protection?"
"Of course. Do not underestimate dark magic, Regulus."
Black stretched out a crooked, crazy grin. Everything's fine, his dear people will be safe. And he himself will be able to destroy the horcrux. Definitely will.
"Th-thank you, Mother!.." stumbling on his legs, he ran after Walburga.
No one ever knew that on his eighteenth birthday, Regulus got himself one more dark secret. Well, no one was supposed to know. Thanks to his mother's protection and dark spells, even the skilled Legilimens in the Death Eaters' ranks were unable to extract this information. Every attempt to penetrate his mind was blocked. And the guy himself smiled humbly into the Lord's face — just as before. He pretended to be loyal, which was disgusting, but at least everyone around believed him. They... did believe, didn't they?
"They probably know something. Know that I'm a traitor," Black thought, always holding his wand ready to defend himself. Because he can't die just yet. He hasn't destroyed the horcrux yet. So 'till then, he has to be one hundred percent cautious, alert, "If they ask anything, I have to pretend to be crazy... yes, crazy, like Grandmother Melania..."
Voldemort approvingly patted him on the shoulder and nodded his head. Praised Regulus for how submissive he had become lately. So much so that even Peter, always making mouse-like squeaks, could envy him. Disgusting. Even the mention of that guy was unpleasant, but he endured it too.
All of magical Britain became a theater, and Regulus Black — an actor.
Constantly (day and night) he was tense, like a taut string. No longer recognizing people, who used to be his best friends or just housemates, in all these Death Eaters, he was afraid of them. And also of the possibility of them suspecting him. But even so, he smiled politely, just as he had been used to doing since childhood. At the same time, racked his brains over how he could destroy the Horcrux as quickly as possible. Kreacher praised for this, calling him incredibly brave ("You are no coward, master Regulus! Your pathetic brother is the real coward!"). This went on for three months, exactly. Three exhausting months that were tiring him out more and more.
Some people could keep a lie inside for decades, but Regulus felt like he was falling apart after a few months. Maybe it was due to his young age. Maybe he was just a pathetic, weak loser after all.
"You haven't been so cheerful lately, baby Black," Mulciber's voice, which had once been warm, was becoming harsher and colder day by day. And he himself had become completely different. Regulus no longer recognized him, had no idea who this guy was. Anyone, but definitely not his former friend, "Some boy turned you down again?"
All the other Death Eaters (there were five of them) laughed. Regulus smiled back, but not like before. Now it came out a little strange, unnatural.
"It's his loss then, don't worry. You're a pretty little thing, baby Black."
"Yeah, besides– if he's a half-blood, just go and torture him, as a revenge."
"Uh, y-yeah, sure..."
"And if he's a mudblood..." when Crouch Jr. gave Mulciber a disapproving look, he laughed again, "Yeah, right, what am I even saying? Our baby Black is smart enough not to mess with filthy mudbloods!"
Regulus thought that at this rate he wouldn't even have to pretend to be crazy. He would actually go fucking insane soon. But he would never turn to Dumbledore or anyone from the light side. Sirius had already made it clear that it was nothing but a waste of time.
Meanwhile the real locket magnetized him. Almost convinced, "Put me on, look your fears in the eye, admit all your dark and insidious thoughts." One time, Black couldn't fight it anymore: he took the Horcrux out of the box in his room, hung it around his neck, and quickly regretted it. Somewhere inside his head, as if right in the skull, the magic was telling him with the voices of James and Sirius,
"You're weak, you're afraid, and you know it. You should've died back then, in the cave, but you couldn't even do that. You'll put everyone in danger, you'll doom everyone to death, Disappointment Arcturus Black," then, almost in hysterics, he somehow pulled off the silver chain and threw the locket as far away as possible. To the farthest corner of the room, where he could still hear the ominous hissing from. And he breathed so heavily, so irregularly, as if he was choking on water.
It's a terrible, incredibly dark magic. And Voldemort, who used it, is dangerous to the entire wizarding world. "I need to get rid of this damned trash," it's clear as day. And if Regulus doesn't hurry now, it'll be too late.
"...I hope you understood everything I just told you."
At the beginning of the fourth month of his one-man show, Regulus finally gave in. Once he learned that Lucius was trying hard to convince his wife to also take the dark mark, something inside cracked. Black realized: he could no longer keep this secret to himself. And also couldn't let someone close to him take the terrible brand.
Narcissa (now) Malfoy loved macaroons very much, and lately, for some reason, especially much. Regulus brought her enough, but she ate it all almost instantly. Very aristocratic and elegant, but terribly fast. Even though the long dress with the robe and the charms did their job perfectly, her cousin still realized that something was off. He wasn't a stupid boy, so he only needed a couple of minutes to think.
Thought and then suddenly said,
"Are you pregnant, per chance?" the young woman looked at him in shock. It was clear: she was about to start making excuses or muttering that she actually tried very hard on the masking charms, "I understand why you're hiding it," the world is extremely unstable now, and no one wanted to risk their future heirs, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Black's word of honor."
"Thank you, mon cher," her beloved cousin would never lie, not to her. Therefore, Narcissa relaxed her shoulders and smiled. Even her usual cold voice became warmer, more tender next to him.
"Has it been a long time?"
"Decent, I would say. But we don't know, whether it's a girl or a boy, yet."
Regulus knew for sure: whoever will be born, his cousin is going to love this child to the moon and back.
"...sorry, I got off topic," the joy for his beloved cousin needed to be curbed. He needed to continue explaining the reason why he came to the manor today, "What's more important now is that the entire magical world is under threat. And that you should never accept the dark mark."
"Yes, I understood what you were trying to convey, but... the Lord just wants to rid us of mudbloods. He advocates for the interests of pureblood wizards, does he not?"
"For now," the woman, not finding an answer, slightly lowered her big blue eyes, "Cissy, he's dangerous and will stop at nothing. Before you know it, he'll subjugate all the noble families, all the sacred twenty-eight. And then our world."
She hesitated awkwardly, doubting. The information about the Horcruxes and the real goals really touched the strings of her heart, but going against her husband was kind of too much. Especially when he fought for the ideals that she herself adhered to.
"I already figured what he wants to do. First, completely subjugate the whole of Britain, and then spread to other countries," Regulus sighed heavily, looking somewhere towards the window. A thunderstorm was raging outside, not a good sign, "And he is gradually succeeding. You know the Dolohov guy, don't you?" his cousin nodded quickly, "He recently traveled to his homeland... argh, they're always changing the name, so I can't remember. It is no longer an Empire, right?"
"Ah, you mean the country of the Koldovstoretz school!.. I think it is now called the Soviet Union."
"Yes, right... so he went there to promote the Death Eater movement among his people. The Rosiers are doing the same in France. Before you and I know it, all this will move to the... world level. Like with Grindelwald."
"Oh... is that so..."
"Cissy, think about your future child. The Lord said that he'd get rid of any pure-blood family completely because of even the slightest disobedience," the woman swallowed quietly, "Do you really want your child to live a life which he'll have to grovel before some Lord in?" almost instinctively, she shook her head. Because the Blacks (even if they're already married) will not allow themselves to kneel down before anyone, "And do you yourself also want to fear for your life every day?"
"I suppose not..." even a fool would understand that she was torn between two sides. Until she could understand which one to join, she preferred to either remain silent or answer monosyllabically. That's how it had always been with her, since early childhood.
"That's exactly why you cannot listen to Lucius's persuasion, you cannot take the mark. And it'd be even better to make him get out of this nonsense as well, before it's too late."
It will be difficult to make such a proud peacock as Malfoy change his point of view and outlook on life. But not impossible. He's a kind of businessman, and anyone can come to an agreement with him if they try hard enough. Black was sure that together with his cousin he should be able to do it.
"I'll come and talk to him myself," the guy said in a colorless voice, rising from his chair, "And you, at your leisure, think carefully about my words. Do not repeat my mistakes," he kissed her on the cheek as a farewell — kind of a tradition for the two of them.
***
"Black, you're scaring me. Have you gone completely mad, per chance?"
To be honest, this clear certainty of everyone that all Blacks are crazy psychopaths was already starting to irritate. The wizards didn't even hide their thoughts, instead voicing everything they thought about the members of the noble family out loud. Even though it's all untrue. Well... okay, maybe it is true, but only partly. The difference is huge.
The snobbish and proud aristocrat looked at him as if he were a crazy tramp. He probably didn't chase him out of the house only because his wife said, "You have to listen to him. You have to believe him. It's for our own interests." But Lucius squinted his eyes in doubt and didn't care, since he felt uncomfortable.
He probably reacted this way because Regulus was offering,
"Make an Unbreakable Vow, and only then will we start talking."
"What kind of secrets do you even have? So much so that you even need a Vow?" with every second that slipped away, Malfoy was cringing more and more because of the tense atmosphere. He didn't like all of this. When people demand such a thing from you, things will clearly not end well, "If you ask for a Vow, it means you do not trust me from the start. How can I negotiate with you then?"
Tch, what a downer. He digs into everything, carefully testing the waters. He really is a natural born businessman. And not far from being a politician either.
"I will also swear to do whatever you want," the cold eyes of the young man narrowed even more, "A Vow is necessary so that my words do not later become the cause of my downfall."
"You are a master at intimidation, Black. Is it really that serious?"
"It is."
It was quite logical that Lucius didn't agree right away. He politely walked his guest to the door of his majestic manor and said, "I'll think about it." But Regulus guessed what these words meant, so he clung to the man like a leech. Such a powerful family as the Malfoys possessed the necessary knowledge (and especially books with spells), which could definitely help in both destroying the Horcruxes and defeating the Lord. They shouldn't be let go. They shouldn't fall completely under the influence of the dark side.
The persistence, which Lucius wasn't at all accustomed to, soon got to him. And asking one of the Black family heirlooms in exchange, he agreed to the Unbreakable Vow. After that, he learned all the plans, information about the Horcruxes, and even something about the family of his Lord. On that cold, rainy evening, typical for England, the wizard used, it seems, all the emotions possible. To see so much shock on usually reserved Malfoy's face... yes, it was worth a lot. Too bad Regulus couldn't capture it on a magical camera.
He'd really like to keep this as a keepsake.
"Now, do you understand what you were trying to get Cissy into? Do you understand who you were loyal to?"
He really wanted to answer, "And how are you any better? You were an insane fanatic, like a teenage girl in love. Hanging photos and newspapers in your room, you psychopath," but Lucius remained silent.
"You're not too deep into this yet. My cousin even more so," the guy continued, changing his tone to a more benevolent one. After all, he really didn't want to harm the same victim of imposed beliefs as himself, "While there's a chance, both of you must get out. I do not want my cousin to become a Death Eater, got it?"
"It's not as easy as you think–"
"Drowning hurts, Lucius. When you start drowning in the Lord's power, it's going to hurt too," he winced for a second because of the unpleasant memories in the cave, "Open your eyes and understand that it's better to renounce the Lord as soon as possible."
Even though the words of the Black heir sounded convincing, the aristocrat still doubted. Working as a kind of double agent, helping to kill Voldemort, becoming a traitor — this wasn't really his thing. The risks were too great, but it was too late to turn back: he had made a Vow. Now he wouldn't even be able to hand over the young "revolutionary". Otherwise, he'd die instantly.
If he helps, he's going to die. If he doesn't, he gets the same fate.
"You're such a slick git, Black," all the young man could do was grin coldly, "You cornered me into a hopeless situation. I have a family, going to be a father soon... aren't you ashamed even in the slightest?" the curly-haired wizard ostentatiously rolled his gray eyes at this.
"Better me than the Lord and his followers, don't you think?" Malfoy, still with the same grin on his face, shook his head.
"Git."
Nevertheless, he agreed — not like he had any other choice left. Lucius let him into his library, and from then on it became almost a second home for Regulus. He scanned every line, looking for a working method. Some books turned out to be so ancient that they practically crumbled in his hands and were also written using incomprehensible runes. While the guy tried to translate all them into human language, days quickly turned into weeks.
"Mon cher, aren't you tired?" his cousin pulled him out of the abyss of hard work and incessant thoughts like, "I won't be able to do this, it's all useless, he'll become too strong before I can kill him...". This elegant, refined maiden looked more like an angel. Especially when she smiled at Regulus with extreme tenderness — not like she did with strangers, "Dobby made you some tea and brioche. Have a bite to eat and rest for a while."
The sound of a silver tray hitting the table made him come to his senses. Shaking his head, Black looked up and saw that his cousin had brought something to eat herself. Immediately, his face was distorted with anxiety,
"Cissy, you're pregnant. You're the one who needs to rest."
"Oh, don't mention it," even the way she waved a hand aristocratically expressed her status, "You work very hard for Lucius and I. And for our future heir," now, when there was very little time left until June, the Malfoys already knew that a boy would be born, "This is the least I can do for you."
Continuing to smile, the woman lightly lowered a hand to her stomach.
"Lucius and I are thinking about naming him Draco," the dragon constellation, huh. The eighth largest one in the night sky, "What do you think?" the cousin, smiling faintly, shook his head.
"I hardly have the right to vote in choosing the name of your child."
"Even so, I would still love to know your opinion."
"Draco". He tried to taste the name. "Draco". He didn't know exactly what the child would look like yet, but the name would suit him. Just what's needed for the son of two Malfoys. A perfect pureblood wizard with a perfect name will be born soon.
"Draco sounds great, love."
In response, the cousin smiled a little wider.
***
Regulus had hardly known Lucius before. The most he did know was his last name and a brief summary of basic traits: "cold, calculating, proud, full of prejudice and egocentrism due to his upbringing." With such a description, Malfoy didn't even seem like a person, but a perfect picture. A product of this era and the traditions instilled in him since childhood.
"...Lucius, stop acting like a rude, cruel idiot with your house elf," the aristocrat winced at that, not hiding his insult. What he would probably never agree with Regulus on was protecting the elves. They should be treated like worthless servants, not like... friends, "He just served you a slightly cold tea."
"But he should've–"
"In my opinion, he cares about you a lot. Doesn't want His Highness to burn His tongue with a boiling drink."
"...Black. Quit acting so arrogant," Malfoy snorted ostentatiously. What a pompous idiot, "And don't talk to me like that in my own house."
That's why the guy was shocked that Lucius Malfoy was, in fact, a human. He also had feelings, had a heart. When the long-awaited son was born on the fifth of June, he allowed himself a little weakness: he shed a few stingy male tears, and then smiled sincerely. Regulus had never seen anyone cry like that. And he had never cried like that himself.
Probably because he still hadn't had the chance to become a father. Together with a guy who had discussed it so many times.
"Hey, Reggie," a warm, sun-like guy in glasses once asked him, "Do you like kids? I personally do! I think I'd like to have two— no, three, no—"
"James, calm down. Let's graduate first, and then..."
"But I want to start planning now! Y'know, I'd re-e-eally like to be a dad one day, I'd like to give my children everything!"
When Regulus held a child in his arms for the first time in his life, he was very scared. The itty-bitty being looked so tiny, so defenseless. He was afraid of accidentally harming it or allowing something from the outside to hurt it. So much so that his legs visibly buckled. He was afraid of this baby, and it wasn't even an exaggeration.
However, then the guy looked into the same gray eyes as his own. And involuntarily smiled with the corner of his pale lips. Did he really live to see his nephew born? Was this even supposed to happen?
"Hullo... Draco," the child, surprisingly, didn't cry, but looked at him attentively. As if he was thinking something of his own, but couldn't voice it out, "...err, uh... is he supposed to stare at me like that?.."
"It looks like he's studying you, Black."
"I think he just likes Regulus," Narcissa said in response to her husband's assumption. He smiled slightly and, coming closer, took his son back. So carefully and tenderly, as if he was handling crystal.
A child liked him? Liked Regulus? It sounded like something impossible, but extremely pleasant. As pleasant as the opportunity to finally find a way to destroy the horcrux. For Black, this was a personal victory. A kind of merit for his brother's mistrust, for the near-death experience in the cave, for a whole year of pretense in the circle of the Lord and his minions, for sleepless nights in the libraries of his house and the Malfoy manor. True, there was only one ti-iny problem.
Dark magic that'd help destroy the locket was too dangerous. So much so that "it would lead to absolutely any consequences" and "it would definitely deprive you of something." Regulus couldn't know for sure what exactly he would have to lose, what exactly would be taken away from him. He was unable to dig up any additional information, although he tried for a whole week. This gave rise to doubts, "Is it worth it?.. What if I lose something very important to me?".
He wasn't particularly afraid of losing his life, because it had already been lying on the altar since that very day in the cave. But... what if magic decided to take one of the three Malfoys away from him? Or his mother, or his brother, or even the Potters? He didn't care about himself — Black had long since resigned himself to the thought, "I won't last long in this world anyway. One day, one way or another, everything simply must come to an end." However, his loved ones' safety was a completely different story. He didn't want to give them to anyone, didn't want anything to happen to them.
"What do I do?.." Regulus looked at the old book with the spell with a lost look, and nervously bit his lips. A bad habit. If his mother noticed him doing this, she'd definitely scold him.
One part of his brain was telling him to keep looking for different ways. The other part was telling him that the Lord was getting too strong and there was no time to waste. "What do I do?" was the mantra running through his head, while he involuntarily did something anyway. He was panicking and tugging at his black curls in different directions, but he was still doing it: quickly instructed Kreacher to find a shelter where no one would get to him and the Malfoys, began to memorize the spell and mentally prepare himself for any outcome, and gave his mother a parting gift in case he did die this time.
More and more with each passing day Regulus felt like someone's life would soon come to an end.
"This is certainly not your giant manor, but it should do for now," the guy said, sighing, while the family of fair-haired ones were examining their new "place of residence."
For pureblood Slytherins, the two-story house, where everything was in gloomy, dark green tones, was quite cozy. Even the light inside was a cold white shade, which they had grown accustomed to since childhood. But to be completely honest, it was more reminiscent of the Black house than a pretentious manor: the interior and decor were exclusively black (even down to the steep stairs, leading to the bedrooms). The only light things that they managed to find were the frames of the mirrors and paintings, the French curves on the walls and expensive white carpets.
"Lucius, listen carefully," the wizard, all tense and taut as a string, turned around, "Today I am definitely going to destroy the horcrux and... perhaps, like that time in the cave, it will be a suicide mission," his cousin, unable to restrain herself, gasped loudly, "Perhaps this time I will not survive. Therefore, I ask you to take care of the Lord for me, at the meeting today."
It sounded a little dangerous. For several weeks now, Malfoy had been imagining that Death Eaters definitely suspected something. Perhaps even the Lord himself. "I don't like any of this," the man thought, sometimes noticing the strange glances Nott and Crouch Jr. were giving him, "But perhaps this is merely paranoia. Life with a madman, such as Black, would drive anyone insane."
However, it should be fine. Lucius had been cautious all his life, getting out of trouble more than once. So this time he should remain unharmed as well. At the same time, also become a hero who will defeat the tyrant.
"The Dark Lord... he doesn't suspect any of us of treason, does he?" Narcissa quietly clarified, still unable to swallow the lump in her throat.
"He shouldn't. We are his "loyal followers," so he can only suspect someone from the outside."
And that means everything will be fine. Lucius let out a relaxed breath,
"Do what you must, Black," the guy nodded to him reservedly, "And I shall take on the role of executioner."
"I won't let you down."
***
"...ladies and gentlemen... I hasten to inform you that a truly depressing event has occurred. Both Regulus Black and Lucius Malfoy have betrayed us," there was obvious disappointment in the voice that came out as a hiss. It penetrated inside with magic, pierced the soul of each follower through and through, causing a cold and sticky fear of ending up in Malfoy's sad place, "Pitiful, useless cowards..." they were holding on pretty well now, but it wouldn't last long. Voldemort's sure: soon the noble wizards will break, will tremble and beg for mercy on their knees, "They do not even deserve to die by my hand."
The loyal minions reacted differently: some already guessed that and therefore weren't surprised, some twisted their faces, and some smiled madly — knew what this conversation was leading to.
"They dared to pretend and lie right to my face... real traitors, don't you think?"
"True, true!" Pettigrew could only assent, smiling wryly, "Traitors must be punished...! They deserve to die...!"
"Well said, Wormtail. In that case, we need to choose the executioners," and of course, there were a lot of those who wanted to curry favor with the Lord. They hoped that in the future they'd be credited for this.
Severus Snape, however, had already come up with his own plan to appease the Lord — to give him the prophecy. He will not fail, will not end up like Regulus.
***
It hurts. Hurts like a bitch, honestly.
It's not the first time for Regulus to experience absolutely different types of pain: pleasant, hellish which drives to tears, emotional, physical, even the one which happens on the verge of death... but that's definitely the first time he has encountered something like this. His father had once told him, "Dark magic is good, son. But don't get too much into a very ancient kind of dark magic. No one knows what it can do to you later." However, Regulus was a bad boy — he disobeyed the advice. And now he suffered, facing the consequences. It felt like he was dying for the second time, but somehow still staying alive.
Both Kreacher and Dobby were spinning around him while he screamed in agony.
"Master Regulus, Master Regulus!" the worried house-elves almost sang in two voices, afraid for the wizard.
As soon as the first part of the spell fell from his wand, he couldn't stop feeling the intense pain and thinking, "I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm definitely going to die this time." Maybe these thoughts would visit him every time he came to this cold, gloomy cave.
This damn horcrux will definitely send him to the afterlife sooner or later — it can't be any other way.
Most of all, surprisingly, Black felt this pain in the area of his left eye. It all accumulated there, and only then began to spread throughout the body from the head to the tips of the fingers. It hurts, it hurts like a bitch. The house-elves were panicking and casting their magic, but the guy didn't even hear them — their voices were muffled by his own screams and,
"I saw your heart and your soul, Regulus. And they belong to me."
The Blacks do not belong to anyone. Even if they have a dark mark on their arm.
"You're a pathetic, weak coward, Regulus, admit it. You won't be able to defeat me..."
"Master, please, hold on, master," the locket squealed disgustingly, hissed like an evil snake, and shook violently on level ground, "Master...!"
"And everyone who was ever dear to you will die at my hands."
Writhing and not even trying to control his tears, Regulus barely managed to find his wand by touch. The vile whisper continued to mock him and call him weak. He needed to prove it wrong. Hands were shaking, eyes went completely blind, throat was hoarse from screaming, but he still managed to pull through — finished pronouncing the second part of such a long spell.
As soon as the last syllable escaped his lips and a spark flashed nearby, Black instantly lost consciousness.
***
"...Regulus!" hearing a familiar voice muffled, as if underwater, he tried to open his eyes slightly. However, immediately cried out without embarrassment because of a sharp, piercing pain, "Regulus!" his cousin, panicking, began to fuss around next to him, again calling his name, "Regulus, Regulus...! Oh, cousin, dear, be patient, just a little bit..."
"...hurts..." was all he could say. His eyes stung as if someone had poured poison into them. Something was running down his cheeks, then down the neck and to his ears, but Black didn't quite understand: were these tears, sweat, or even blood? "...t hur... rts... it..."
"I know, I know, the potion will work soon, the pain will pass, I promise..."
He didn't even bother to specify which potion Narcissa gave him. He had no strength for anything, and his body ached everywhere it could. It seemed that even the Cruciatus wasn't capable of causing half as much pain. It was truly so awful he just wanted to die.
However, by some miracle, survived time after time.
"Regulus... Regulus, love, I was so scared," the young woman whispered loudly under her breath, "You were unconscious, your whole face was covered in blood, blood right from your eye, you were barely breathing... I thought you were killed, that you died...!"
"...rcrux... wha... how's...?"
"Is that really all you care about when you could've died?!.." silence was her answer. Sighing, Malfoy continued, "Kreacher and Dobby said that you were able to destroy it. You did it, Regulus, you did well," thank Merlin. Now he can really die without worrying about anything anymore. From now on, everything'll be fine: mortal Voldemort will die, Narcissa and Lucius will be able to raise their son in peace and...
Huh?
Regulus tried his best to blink the hot drops from both eyes, while his cousin carefully was wiping them with a handkerchief.
"Lucius... where?.." the ability to speak adequately was gradually returning to him, "Home?"
"No... he just went to the meeting recently, and then... you were brought here by Dobby and Kreacher..."
Ah, so not much time had passed. Although Black was sure that while he was almost dying for the second time, an eternity had already gone by.
The guy tried to come to his senses for either ten or twenty minutes. It was hard, but he tried to return back to the world of the living. The potion that his cousin poured into him with her own hands gradually began to work: the pain flowed out of his body like a thin stream of water, letting go and disappearing. All this time, Narcissa sat close, wiping his face with a snow-white handkerchief from blood, dirt and tears. Not even for a second did she dare to change her position, or raise an eyebrow in disgust, or even sigh tiredly.
The house-elves didn't go anywhere either. On the contrary, they were ready to receive an order or request for help at any moment.
"Does it still hurt?" the maiden asked, looking sadly at her brother with big blue eyes.
He saw her face, all of it, but... something still obscured the view? It was as if the picture around him wasn't complete. Regulus couldn't see the other side of the room out of the corner of his left eye, as he usually did. He tried hard to squint, blink and try to get rid of the interference, but it didn't work. There was no bandage, as far as he could tell, then–
"...blood right from the eye..."
It can't be. This is definitely some kind of joke. It's better for this to really just be an unfunny joke than the bitter truth.
"Will lead to absolutely any consequences"
"Will definitely deprive you of something"
"Cissy... can you tell me how," he swallowed loudly, frightened by his own words, "...my... left eye looks?"
She hesitated, became nervous, even bit her lip slightly. Probably, for a moment she thought about how to avoid the question. However, Regulus's frowning face forced her to answer,
"As if there's no pupil, no iris, no... there's nothing," the guy sincerely didn't understand, "Your eye is completely white... you," Narcissa now looked at him with great sympathy, "You don't see anything with it?.."
"...no."
He became blind. In one eye only, the left one, but still blind. What a nightmare. And in addition to this, he felt the presence of dark magic on and in himself. He practically stank of it to the bone — surely the aura reached his cousin too.
In the magical world, under current conditions, it's dangerous to live with such a set of weaknesses.
"The spell took away my sight... in one eye," the dark-haired guy whispered, "...ugh, it would've been better if I had just died," his sister immediately frowned and darkened.
"One day you will die, Regulus. If you do not stop doing all this..."
Perhaps she's right, but so far Black has been extremely lucky: he has skillfully avoided death, although he has been a hair's breadth from it more than once. He has been lucky in a big way. Maybe he should try a thing called gambling — he'll definitely hit the jackpot.
After another fifteen minutes, he got out of bed and was even able to walk without help. His head was spinning, the lack of sight in one eye didn't allow to see the house in its entire possible view, but... he'll live. It's alright. Everything's fine. While Regulus was carefully leaving the room, the house elves, on Narcissa's orders, were preparing meat dishes for him — after the great loss of blood, they were now the main necessity.
"If anything, I won't eat too much..."
"Oh, you absolutely will!" his cousin said sternly, urging him towards the kitchen, "You will eat every last piece, otherwise I will get angry!"
It was a terribly childish manipulation, but the maiden knew that it'd work on Regulus. And indeed, he soon obeyed: sat down at the table and prepared to wait for his unscheduled meal. Narcissa ran to check on her son, but he, as before, was sleeping peacefully the whole time.
"Ha-ah..." a heavy, doomed sigh finally escaped the guy's lips, "I hope that idiot Lucius comes back soon..."
***
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock — the sound of the clock, growing louder with every second, got on Narcissa's nerves. She and her cousin had been waiting for an eternity, or even more. Regulus finished eating everything on the plates and would've liked to drink some tea, but... he had no desire. He was no less tense, glancing at the huge grandfather clock every now and then.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Malfoy rubbed her graceful, thin hands, and Black began to quietly tap his foot on the floor. Unpleasant sounds mixed together, breaking the silence. At the same time making the atmosphere in the air even more disturbing.
"...do you think he," the woman quickly blinked, then looked from one side to the other, "Felt it? The destruction of his horcrux?"
It was strange that she asked about that and not about her husband.
"I don't know, but... everything will be fine. Now that he's mortal, Lucius probably already killed him," without answering anything back, she nodded. And once again looked at the clock.
Tick-tock. The tension kept growing. There was so much of it that it could be cut with Diffindo. Lucius still hadn't returned from the meeting, although he should've long ago. The two aristocrats didn't openly show their worries for him, but the smallest details still gave them away.
Regulus started tapping his foot louder, and Narcissa began twisting her wedding ring. On the other hand, Draco wasn't worried about anything. But only because the adults in the house tried not to make any noise, not to disturb his sleep.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-to–
"This isn't normal," the woman said, suddenly getting up from her chair. Out of the two of them, she was the first to break, "I have to go and check on Lucius," her cousin's insides instantly went cold. With his now only sighted eye, he looked at her in horror.
"Wha... Cissy– no, calm down."
"I'm calm," an obvious lie, "Calm. It's just... something's wrong. I can feel it."
Nervously running his gaze over her figure, the guy then glanced towards the bedroom — the one where the very young Draco was sleeping. And then the shock on his own face was replaced by determination,
"Alright. Then," now it was him who got up from his place, "I'll go and help Lucius–"
"No!" the woman, however, quickly came to her senses. She remembered that her son was sleeping, and so, became quieter, "No," her voice was extremely cold and stern, "Regulus, you reek of dark magic from kilometers away. And your eye..."
Instinctively, his hand reached for his face. Nothing was hurting and aching anymore, but the very thought that he'd have to live without one eye brought sadness. He would have to be half blind for the rest of his days, because there was no cure for this: he and Narcissa had tried all sorts of spells (even the dark ones) — nothing worked.
"No. You will be killed as soon as you leave the house," he tried to argue, but didn't have time, "I do not want you to die, don't you understand?"
"Cissy, who cares about me and my death–"
"You don't value your life at all–"
"I'm a dead man either way, it was always just a matter of time...!" her cousin interrupted a little louder, frowning more and more. Malfoy copied his expression exactly — after all, they were relatives, "And you have a child–"
Without even finishing his sentence, he wanted to go to the door. He took a step, then a second one, but on the third, the young woman managed to catch him by the hand. Of course, she didn't scream. Her blue eyes, now more like two ice cubes, did it perfectly for her. Narcissa skillfully conveyed all her thoughts with just one look. And also scolded her cousin like a child.
Although, in fact, he was only nineteen.
"I'm not a Death Eater and I'm not as defenseless as you are now," before excuses or indignation in the style of "I'm not defenseless!" would rain down, she spoke again, "You can barely stand on your feet and you can't see out of one eye. Regulus, if you cross the threshold of this house, you will die."
"We will all die someday–"
"Enough. I do not wish to hear this anymore."
For some time, they just stood opposite each other in complete silence. Only after another ten seconds, Malfoy finally let go of her cousin's wrist, which was starting to hurt. At the same time, she assured him that she'd protect herself if anything happened, that in less than half an hour she'd return with her husband and news about the dead Lord.
But Black couldn't get rid of the feeling that this wouldn't happen.
"I think... we just need to wait, you're worrying in vain..." the words were already like an annoying noise for her.
"Lucius told me where the meeting's being held today," her cousin tensed up, cowered like a frightened animal. His consciousness told him: he can't let his cousin go anywhere, under any circumstances, "I'll just go away for a couple of minutes. To check if everything's alright."
Regulus stood there like a lost child, unable to collect his thoughts, to figure out how to stop her. Maybe it was still shock or stress, or everything right after the destruction of the horcrux — he himself didn't know for sure.
"I'll be fine," Narcissa said, leaning down to kiss her cousin gently on the cheek. As a farewell, "You keep an eye on my precious Draco for now, alright?"
The grandfather clock was still ominously striking its tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
"...alright. I'll take good care of him," the young woman smiled contentedly. And then, turning around, walked towards the door like a shadow, "And you... don't be too late..."
"I promise."
Narcissa swore to come home with her husband "in just a couple of minutes." However, neither after five minutes, nor even after ten, did anyone enter the house. And Draco, who had been peacefully snoring in his cradle until then, suddenly began to cry loudly and shrilly. "What is it, mon cher, why are you crying?" Regulus whispered, asking this as if to himself. At the same time, he wondered how to properly pick up the child.
"T-there..." somehow he lifted the tiny baby and began to remember what his cousin usually did in such situations. Lulled him to sleep, it seemed. But Black had no experience in that yet, "Maybe you want to eat? When did Cissy feed you?.."
Oh, at his pathetic nineteen years old, he was terrible at babysitting. He knew absolutely nothing about children and how to deal with them. However, it was embarrassing to admit this out loud, so he kept quiet.
Draco's loud screams didn't make the situation any better. On the contrary, they only made it harder to think. Regulus tried to rock him gently, carefully, so as not to harm him, and feed him with what the house elves brought, and change his diapers with Kreacher's help, and even check for any pain with a wand, but all in vain. His nephew, as if he had broken loose for the first time in two months of his life, didn't want to calm down.
"What do you want, Draco? What do you need?" the guy was panicking in his thoughts, looking first at the child, then at the worried house-elves, "I promised Cissy to take good care of you, but..."
"...Draco, you probably want to go to your mother, right?" the crying wasn't even irritating. Rather, it was scary, because Regulus had never heard such piercing screams before, "It's okay, she'll be back soon, and... and your father too..."
They'll be back, right?
They're fine, right?
Swallowing loudly, Regulus carefully walked out into the living room with his nephew in arms. He glanced at the clock — an hour had passed since his cousin hadn't returned. "Maybe they're running late. Maybe they're duelling with the Lord. Maybe they just went to their manor to pick something up," he could come up with many reasons and excuses like that. However, none of them calmed him down, but on the contrary, made him worry even more, "Nothing happened to them, nothing, nothing happened... they will be back soon."
Black tried to rock the child in his arms a little harder, but that didn't help either.
"Sirius... where are you going at such an hour?" an old memory suddenly popped up in his head, "Mother will scold you for not sleeping..."
Clearly not expecting to be caught, the brother jerked at first. With a spark of fear inside, he turned around. Regulus rubbed his eyes and blinked a lot in surprise. In order not to wake every single person in this house, Sirius had to put on a wide smile.
"I won't be long, Reggie. I'll be gone for– for literally a couple of minutes," the sleepy teenager looked at him with a little mistrust.
"Really?.."
The older brother nodded his head as vigorously as possible.
"...just don't be late, alright?"
"Mhm..." his heart sank sharply. But the elder Black still didn't change his decision, "I promise."
That day, having run away from Grimmauld Place once and for all, Sirius never returned. Not after minutes, not after hours, not even after weeks and months. Although he promised to "leave for literally a coupl–
"I'll just go away for a couple of minutes. To check if everything's alright."
Regulus felt so cold inside that he involuntarily trembled all over. The tiny child in his arms continued to sob and cry, not stopping for a second. "Cissy and Lucius will come back, right? They're both safe, right?..". No one answered the questions the guy asked himself in his head.
The clock continued the same rhythm: tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...