Harry Potter Regulus's Regrets

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Thanks to erbkaiser, my fellow Magpie, for looking this over for me.

Written for Round 7 of the Quidditch League FanFiction Competition. Go Magpies!

Warning: A very brief mention of rape.

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Regulus Black enjoyed being a Death Eater. Being the youngest one ever brought him a certain level of prestige - not that he needed that, he was a Black after all. It also directed no small amounts of fear towards him. You could almost hear the inner thoughts of his co-members. What was it that he did to achieve such a position at his young age?

He wondered what they would think if they knew the truth. He did nothing at all. He would be lying if he said this didn't make him somewhat suspicious, but kept those suspicions pushed firmly to the back of his mind. It wouldn't do for the Dark Lord to catch wind of them.

As the months passed, Regulus continued to find gratification in the events surrounding being a Death Eater. There were countless parties with tables brimming with excellent food and drinks. He sampled some of the best fire whiskey the wizarding world had to offer. He chased after many pretty girls, all Pureblood of course. Oh yes, Regulus Black was having a fine time living his life.

However, that fine time was about to come to a stop. His cousin's husband, Lucius Malfoy, was accompanying Regulus to his first ever revel. If Regulus was honest with himself, he would not say he was particularly excited about going. He did know there was no way out of this, as the Dark Lord had ordered him to attend.

The revel had already begun when Regulus and Lucius arrived. As he took in the scene before him, it felt like a darkness settled over him. It was so bad that he actually looked around to make sure there were no Dementors nearby. It was...uncivilized. The room was dark with the only lighting coming from torches on the walls. The light from the flames danced and moved across the walls, giving off an almost unearthly feeling. Cheering brought him back from his thoughts and he looked at what was now happening in front of him. Death Eaters were forcing themselves on some young Muggle girls. Regulus couldn't even bring himself to think about the other activities going on around the room and he was quite certain he was going to be sick. It took everything he possessed to school his features into a blank, impassioned mask. He could not let the others see that he was not enjoying this. Because if he did, those Muggle girls wouldn't be the only deaths that night.

When he returned home that night, the loo was the first place he went. As he emptied what little contents were in his stomach, he couldn't stop the flashes of those girls' faces in his mind. Memories of blood soaked floors and walls assaulted him at every turn. That was the night that Regulus Black began to think that being a Death Eater might not be all he thought it was. He certainly liked the idea that Purebloods should be in charge. These Half-bloods and Mudbloods keep trying to shove their way into things they didn't fully understand. But that didn't mean he wanted them all dead! And those Muggles. Sure, he thought he was better than them, but that didn't mean they should die just because they didn't have magic. As he went to sleep that night, he knew it would take a long time before he didn't see the images of those girls' faces every time he closed his eyes.

Regulus looked at things differently from that day forward. He started questioning -in his head, he didn't have a death wish- just what the Dark Lord's agenda really was. He began to hear whispers, gossip really because he realized that his fellow Death Eaters could be worse than some old biddies, of things that concerned him greatly. Talks of millions of deaths, of wiping out the whole non-magical population. Whispers of immortality reached his ears. He brushed them off at first. No magic could bring back the dead and the only way to prevent yourself from dying was so vile he couldn't bring himself to think about it.

It wasn't until he overheard Malfoy boasting about the Dark Lord trusting him with one of his most prized possessions, a diary that would write back to you, that Regulus began to become concerned. This concern was cemented even further when he heard the same from his crazy cousin Bellatrix. No, the cup didn't write you back but it certainly was seeping in Dark Magic.

His attendances at the Death Eater parties started to lessen, not wanting to socialize with such barbarians, because he was above such things. He wished he could stop going completely but did have certain appearances to keep up. More and more time was spent in his room at Grimmauld Place, thinking and plotting. The quiet of the house was needed so he could try to consolidate his thoughts. He had no idea what he was going to do. With a sigh, he ran his hands through his hair and begun to think that maybe Sirius had the right of it.

It all came to a head for him the day the Dark Lord appeared in his parlor. His mother near wet herself with excitement, but he held nothing but disgust at her actions. He was certain the Dark Lord was there to punish him for his diminished attendance lately, but his apologies were brushed off. Instead, the Dark Lord was there for a favor. Of course, the Dark Lord would never lower himself to actually ask for a favor, so he demanded, rather than ask, Kreacher's assistance with a secret mission. Regulus was wary of the request. What could the Dark Lord possibly need with a house elf? He could do nothing as he watched his mother give her consent. He wanted to say no - who knows what the Dark Lord was planning to do with Kreacher - but no one says no to the Dark Lord.

Regulus waited for what felt like days for Kreacher to return. In reality, it was only a few hours. At one point, he grew nervous that Kreacher might not return at all. Finally, with a loud CRACK, his house elf returned to the house, arriving straight into his bedroom. The elf's behavior was unlike anything he had ever seen. He was delirious, muttering nonsense under his breath, and shaking violently. Regulus gently picked him up, placed him on the chaise, and covered him with a blanket. They needed to talk, but it would have to wait until morning.

As the morning sun rose over the horizon, Regulus was wide awake in his bed. Seeing Kreacher like that had not only brought back the bad memories of his first revel, it also brought some very vivid nightmares. Knowing that sleep would continue to elude him, he decided to get up and see how Kreacher was doing. Rising, he glanced over to the chaise to see that his house elf was gone, most likely already at work.

"Kreacher."

In an instant, Kreacher appeared in front of him.

"Master Regulus, what can Kreacher do for his wonderful master?"

"Kreacher, I need you to tell me everything that happened last night with the Dark Lord."

Regulus's previous suspicions grew immensely as the elf began his story. He told of a hidden cave, potions that altered the mind, and an odd locket.

"The locket. What did it look like? Was there anything odd about it?"

"It had an S on the front, almost like a snake. The S was set with some type of green stones. It was gold, but an odd gold. It did not glitter at all."

"All that is gold does not glitter," he murmured under his breath, remembering the quote as something Sirius used to say. "Besides the look of the gold was there anything else odd about it?"

Kreacher started fidgeting, clearly nervous. Regulus arched an eyebrow at him, silently urging him to continue.

"It reeked of Dark Magic, Master. Kreacher could hear it hissing at him, he could. The Dark Lord kept talking to himself and he mentioned this word Kreacher have never heard before..."

"Horcrux," Regulus interrupted before Kreacher could continue.

"Yes, Master, that's what he said."

"Thank you, Kreacher. You are forbidden from repeating this conversation to anyone, understand?"

"Yes, Master."

He dismissed Kreacher and sunk down to the ground besides his bed. The conversation confirmed everything he was afraid of. The locket was a horcrux. The Dark Lord was making horcruxes to attain immortality. The rituals involved in making one...the Dark Lord was even more insane than he previously thought. And this was the man Purebloods were backing to rule the wizarding world? He couldn't allow this to happen, couldn't unleash the depravity and insanity that was the Dark Lord on the world. He had to stop it, he had to stop _him_. But what could he do?

It took him a few weeks to perfect his plan. He was a Slytherin after all; he was not Sirius. He was going to take Kreacher back to the cave and get the locket, replacing it with a perfect copy he had made. After he did that, he was going to make attempts on what he believed were the others. But first things first, he had to get that locket.

As they arrived at the cave, Regulus let Kreacher lead him. They got into a rickety boat and traveled across the water to where the locket was stored. As they approached the basin, he could see the light from his wand reflecting off the potion that covered the locket. Remembering what happened to Kreacher, he refused to let him take the potion again, believing he would be able to handle it better than his elf did. Knowing how the Dark Lord operated, he turned to Kreacher before drinking the potion and said, "If anything goes wrong, leave me and take the locket back to Grimmauld. You must destroy it!"

Kreacher tried to argue with him, refusing to agree to leave him. He eventually had to order him to obey. Passing the fake locket off to Kreacher, he began to drink the potion. It wasn't so bad...at first. As he continued to drink, the delusions started. He saw the locket strangling those Muggle girls from the revel. He saw blood, lots and lots of blood, everywhere. Then it was the locket again, but this time it was around Sirius's neck, choking the life out of him. He cried out at that sight, crawling to save him. In doing so, he made a deadly mistake, managing to disturb the water. He was unaware of the Inferi creeping towards him as he tried to save delusion Sirius. In one fleeting moment of lucidity, he felt something grabbing at his ankles, dragging him across the ground. He was able to shout to Kreacher to get the locket and get out before he was dragged down to the abyss. His last thought as his life drained away from his body was that he wished he had listened to Sirius and never joined the Death Eaters.

Nothing was worth this.

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Prompts:

Slytherin's Locket

(2) consolidate

(6) "All that is gold does not glitter."

(15) Dementors

Please review!


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Harry Potter, Friendship, Tragedy