FIC: Farewell, and Forgive Me [Regulus Black]
Title: Farewell, and Forgive Me
Author: sirmioneforever
Prompt: # O30 by greyeyesbluetoo
Character(s): Regulus Black
Word Count: 1.4k
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Character death, angst
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thank you to THIS_BLOODY_CAT for beta'ing.
Summary: All Death cared about was for one more soul to add to his infinite collection, and Regulus hoped he could gift it a piece of the Dark Lord's soul.
Regulus Black was sitting on his bed, staring at the articles from the Daily Prophet he'd pinned to the wall.
The articles chronicled the Dark Lord's rise to power and several activities Death Eaters had been involved in. It may have seemed odd to anyone else, but Regulus used to be a staunch believer in what the Dark Lord was trying to achieve. Muggleborns needed to know that they were not wanted in the Wizarding World, and that purebloods, like himself, were far superior.
He had eagerly joined the Death Eaters, a year ago, not realising just how brutal life would turn out to be while serving the Dark Lord. His mother and his cousin Bellatrix had been so proud! But both of them would be horrified if they had known what he'd been thinking for quite some time.
The Dark Lord was a menace. He was willing to kill purebloods as well as Muggleborns to further his agenda, and Regulus believed that he had made himself immortal by creating a Horcrux. The magic used to create such an object was some of the darkest, foulest in the world. Regulus knew that, despite his earlier beliefs, the Dark Lord should be stopped.
It was foolish to believe in him. All he wants is power, Regulus had thought over and over again.
He'd listened to what Kreacher said, a tale of tales no one bought but him, because Regulus knew Kreacher: he was trustworthy; a babysitter as a child, a proper friend now, even if, as a pureblood, he was afraid to admit that one of his fellows was a bloody house-elf. He knew there must be a Horcrux. He also knew that it had to be destroyed. Doing it, however, was a different thing. He'd need all the courage he could gather, and even more.
All of a sudden, his bedroom bedroom felt suffocating. He had to get out before it choked him.
Grabbing his wand, Regulus bounded down the stairs. He entered the sitting room, where his mother sat reading the Daily Prophet.
"Hello, Regulus," his mother said, looking up from the paper.
"Mother," he told her, "I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving. Don't worry, I will be back in time for dinner."
"Your aunt and uncle will be having dinner with us tonight, so please, do make sure you are dressed appropriately."
"I will, Mother," he replied, and walked back down the hall to the front door. A gust of fresh air hit his face once he stepped outside. It was funny how seeing things clearly could make him feel better about himself.
Once the front door had shut, he Apparated to a set of cliffs. He looked down below, to the raging sea. He'd been here before. He'd come here once, with his family, before Sirius landed up in Gryffindor, before his whole life had blown up and gone downhill.
They called them Thunder Cliffs because of the battering of the waves against the rocks. The sound was deafening. Almost as if a storm was upon him.
The storm would hopefully hit once he was dead, no longer able to suffer for the betrayal he was about to commit. Regulus preferred not to think about what would happen if he survived.
He knew that there were things worse than death; the punishment those who had turned traitors had to endure was one of them. He wouldn't grovel and beg for his life at the Dark Lord's feet, not when he knew he'd never survive.
He knew he needed to do this soon, otherwise he'd never be able to do it.
Tomorrow. I will do it tomorrow, he thought and with that, he Apparated back home, in time for his family's evening meal.
-0-0-0-
I'm going to die tonight, was Regulus' first thought, that morning. He walked out of his room, but every one of his actions was more out of routine than necessity.
Death didn't care if he hadn't showered or brushed his teeth. In fact, Regulus was sure that Death didn't care whether he wore clothes or not. All Death cared about was for one more soul to add to his infinite collection, and Regulus hoped he could gift it a piece of the Dark Lord's soul.
"Kreacher!"
"Master." The elf bowed after appearing.
"I want you to take me to the cave. I want you to show me where the Dark Lord put the locket."
"Yes, Master."
"I order you not to tell anyone of this though, Kreacher. Not even my family. They must never know I went there or what I did. If anything happens to me I order you to leave me behind, take the locket and try to destroy it if you can."
"Master wants Kreacher to leave him behind?" the elf asked, horrified.
"If I'm dying and there's no way to save me, then yes, I do want you to leave me behind. Destroying the locket is more important than my life."
"Of course, Master Regulus." Kreacher sniffed, blowing his nose into a tissue. "If that's what Kreacher shall do then Kreacher will do it."
With that sorted out, Regulus made his way to the library to look at the books containing information on Horcruxes one last time to make sure that he hadn't missed anything. The information about destroying one was vague, and he could only hope that Kreacher would find the right way to do it. He knew that the carrier, in this case a locket, had to be destroyed beyond magical repair, but somehow, it never said using what. Fire could work as it often destroys everything in its path, but the only way to find out was to try it.
A few hours later he was sat at the dining room table listening to his parents talk about several disappearances and murders. It only steeled his resolve to go through with his plan. The death and destruction would never stop if no one ever stood up to the Dark Lord.
He kissed his Mother's cheek, when he left the meal, and bade his Father and her farewell.
Forgive me, Mother, he thought.
Out of everybody his mother would be the one hit hardest by his disappearance. Regulus could only hope that she'd be able to cope with it. His father would miss him, too, but wouldn't breakdown uncontrollably at the thought of him dead. Regulus didn't call Kreacher until his parents were asleep.
When they got to the cave it was far more eerie than he'd imagined it. He shivered when he saw an army of Inferi standing down there in the water. Whatever they were going to do, it wouldn't be good.
He had never seen a potion that shade before but knew from Kreacher that it made you live your worst memory. Regulus had always wondered what his would be. After a mouthful of the dry liquid he wished he never had to find out.
Sirius. Of course his worst memory would have something to do with his brave brother, he who had the courage to fight for what he wanted.
He had never envied Sirius' relationship with their parents, at least not after he had been sorted into Gryffindor. Their relationship was tempestuous at best, downright vicious at worst.
Crawling to the edge of the little island, he scooped up some water to drink, to drown his thirst but, as he was drinking, cold, dead hands dragged him into the water. His fight instinct kicked in too late. It was no use. Even if he managed to get free, from one, from two, there would always be another Inferius who'd take its place. And the potion had done its job by then. It had weakened him, weakened him enough that he was unable to put up the fight his body and mind wanted him to.
Regulus felt the salty water burn his throat as it flooded his lungs. The space around him was growing darker as the Inferi dragged him further and further down towards the bottom of the lake until he had no energy left to fight, to breathe, to do anything. He finally let his body relax as he gave in to his ultimate fate.
He felt a calming peace wash over him before everything turned black.
Author: sirmioneforever
Prompt: # O30 by greyeyesbluetoo
Character(s): Regulus Black
Word Count: 1.4k
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Character death, angst
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thank you to THIS_BLOODY_CAT for beta'ing.
Summary: All Death cared about was for one more soul to add to his infinite collection, and Regulus hoped he could gift it a piece of the Dark Lord's soul.
Regulus Black was sitting on his bed, staring at the articles from the Daily Prophet he'd pinned to the wall.
The articles chronicled the Dark Lord's rise to power and several activities Death Eaters had been involved in. It may have seemed odd to anyone else, but Regulus used to be a staunch believer in what the Dark Lord was trying to achieve. Muggleborns needed to know that they were not wanted in the Wizarding World, and that purebloods, like himself, were far superior.
He had eagerly joined the Death Eaters, a year ago, not realising just how brutal life would turn out to be while serving the Dark Lord. His mother and his cousin Bellatrix had been so proud! But both of them would be horrified if they had known what he'd been thinking for quite some time.
The Dark Lord was a menace. He was willing to kill purebloods as well as Muggleborns to further his agenda, and Regulus believed that he had made himself immortal by creating a Horcrux. The magic used to create such an object was some of the darkest, foulest in the world. Regulus knew that, despite his earlier beliefs, the Dark Lord should be stopped.
It was foolish to believe in him. All he wants is power, Regulus had thought over and over again.
He'd listened to what Kreacher said, a tale of tales no one bought but him, because Regulus knew Kreacher: he was trustworthy; a babysitter as a child, a proper friend now, even if, as a pureblood, he was afraid to admit that one of his fellows was a bloody house-elf. He knew there must be a Horcrux. He also knew that it had to be destroyed. Doing it, however, was a different thing. He'd need all the courage he could gather, and even more.
All of a sudden, his bedroom bedroom felt suffocating. He had to get out before it choked him.
Grabbing his wand, Regulus bounded down the stairs. He entered the sitting room, where his mother sat reading the Daily Prophet.
"Hello, Regulus," his mother said, looking up from the paper.
"Mother," he told her, "I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving. Don't worry, I will be back in time for dinner."
"Your aunt and uncle will be having dinner with us tonight, so please, do make sure you are dressed appropriately."
"I will, Mother," he replied, and walked back down the hall to the front door. A gust of fresh air hit his face once he stepped outside. It was funny how seeing things clearly could make him feel better about himself.
Once the front door had shut, he Apparated to a set of cliffs. He looked down below, to the raging sea. He'd been here before. He'd come here once, with his family, before Sirius landed up in Gryffindor, before his whole life had blown up and gone downhill.
They called them Thunder Cliffs because of the battering of the waves against the rocks. The sound was deafening. Almost as if a storm was upon him.
The storm would hopefully hit once he was dead, no longer able to suffer for the betrayal he was about to commit. Regulus preferred not to think about what would happen if he survived.
He knew that there were things worse than death; the punishment those who had turned traitors had to endure was one of them. He wouldn't grovel and beg for his life at the Dark Lord's feet, not when he knew he'd never survive.
He knew he needed to do this soon, otherwise he'd never be able to do it.
Tomorrow. I will do it tomorrow, he thought and with that, he Apparated back home, in time for his family's evening meal.
-0-0-0-
I'm going to die tonight, was Regulus' first thought, that morning. He walked out of his room, but every one of his actions was more out of routine than necessity.
Death didn't care if he hadn't showered or brushed his teeth. In fact, Regulus was sure that Death didn't care whether he wore clothes or not. All Death cared about was for one more soul to add to his infinite collection, and Regulus hoped he could gift it a piece of the Dark Lord's soul.
"Kreacher!"
"Master." The elf bowed after appearing.
"I want you to take me to the cave. I want you to show me where the Dark Lord put the locket."
"Yes, Master."
"I order you not to tell anyone of this though, Kreacher. Not even my family. They must never know I went there or what I did. If anything happens to me I order you to leave me behind, take the locket and try to destroy it if you can."
"Master wants Kreacher to leave him behind?" the elf asked, horrified.
"If I'm dying and there's no way to save me, then yes, I do want you to leave me behind. Destroying the locket is more important than my life."
"Of course, Master Regulus." Kreacher sniffed, blowing his nose into a tissue. "If that's what Kreacher shall do then Kreacher will do it."
With that sorted out, Regulus made his way to the library to look at the books containing information on Horcruxes one last time to make sure that he hadn't missed anything. The information about destroying one was vague, and he could only hope that Kreacher would find the right way to do it. He knew that the carrier, in this case a locket, had to be destroyed beyond magical repair, but somehow, it never said using what. Fire could work as it often destroys everything in its path, but the only way to find out was to try it.
A few hours later he was sat at the dining room table listening to his parents talk about several disappearances and murders. It only steeled his resolve to go through with his plan. The death and destruction would never stop if no one ever stood up to the Dark Lord.
He kissed his Mother's cheek, when he left the meal, and bade his Father and her farewell.
Forgive me, Mother, he thought.
Out of everybody his mother would be the one hit hardest by his disappearance. Regulus could only hope that she'd be able to cope with it. His father would miss him, too, but wouldn't breakdown uncontrollably at the thought of him dead. Regulus didn't call Kreacher until his parents were asleep.
When they got to the cave it was far more eerie than he'd imagined it. He shivered when he saw an army of Inferi standing down there in the water. Whatever they were going to do, it wouldn't be good.
He had never seen a potion that shade before but knew from Kreacher that it made you live your worst memory. Regulus had always wondered what his would be. After a mouthful of the dry liquid he wished he never had to find out.
Sirius. Of course his worst memory would have something to do with his brave brother, he who had the courage to fight for what he wanted.
He had never envied Sirius' relationship with their parents, at least not after he had been sorted into Gryffindor. Their relationship was tempestuous at best, downright vicious at worst.
Crawling to the edge of the little island, he scooped up some water to drink, to drown his thirst but, as he was drinking, cold, dead hands dragged him into the water. His fight instinct kicked in too late. It was no use. Even if he managed to get free, from one, from two, there would always be another Inferius who'd take its place. And the potion had done its job by then. It had weakened him, weakened him enough that he was unable to put up the fight his body and mind wanted him to.
Regulus felt the salty water burn his throat as it flooded his lungs. The space around him was growing darker as the Inferi dragged him further and further down towards the bottom of the lake until he had no energy left to fight, to breathe, to do anything. He finally let his body relax as he gave in to his ultimate fate.
He felt a calming peace wash over him before everything turned black.