Upside Down Mirror: A Grim Tale (Harry Potter Fanfic)

Inside Out

"You really didn't think this through, did you?"

Regulus honestly wanted to tell the Auror that Moody assigned him to shove off, that he definitely knew what he was doing and that he'd thought everything through, but in truth, he'd not actually thought through what going to Azkaban truly meant, including the lack of privacy. He currently found himself in a small room attempting to change into the grey and white striped clothing all prisoners wore.

Dawlish, as he remembered Moody calling the man, stood with his back turned allowing him some form of privacy, yet in doing so he made it all to clear that he didn't at all see Regulus as a threat. He thought about uttering the fact the man shouldn't underestimate him, yet they both knew Regulus honestly wouldn't do anything to attack the man. There was simply no need to, given the fact Regulus was going where he wanted to be, but Dawlish wasn't a personal threat to him.

Changing his clothing, however, proved troublesome as he attempted to change despite the injuries covering his body. He must have been at it for some time due to the fact Dawlish let out a sigh of annoyance, then said, "Here."

"I don't need your help," Regulus muttered. "And I managed to get the pants on."

Dawlish ignored him, tugging the shredded shirt which Regulus managed to unbutton off, making him hiss in pain. "On top of the fact I don't have all day nor do I enjoy listening to the prisoners of Azkaban scream their heads off. You're also injured, so what you could do under a normal capacity on your own isn't what you can do on your own. Lift your arms."

Regulus let out a sigh, but soon his vision was blocked as the prisoner's shirt dropped over his head, draping over his small frame. When his head popped out, his hands went to tugging at the slightly oversized clothing, nothing how the sleeves slipped down to the palms of his hands. He nearly jumped when Dawlish placed a hand on his shoulder. "You really don't belong here."

"What do you know," Regulus retorted.

"I can't think of the last time we imprisoned someone as young as you here at Azkaban. That's what."

"He has his claws deep," Regulus retorted.

"Now that's done, let me take you to your cell," Dawlish sighed, heading out of the room. The screaming of the other prisoners grew louder, making Regulus swallow, but his eyes averted from the iron-barred cells from a completely different era until Dawlish said, "Here we are." Regulus looked up, listening to the cell door scape open, and stepped in. What he didn't expect was something shoved into his hand. "Here."

Regulus looked down, seeing the chocolate that Dawlish shoved into his hand. He felt irritated at the Auror's actions. "I don't need this."

"You're going to need it a lot more than I will."

"I don't deserve it," Regulus stated, turning towards the man, completely planning on given the chocolate back despite knowing that it would abate the effects of the Dementors around him, even if it was just for a short period. Instead, he found the iron door closing.

"Don't be stubborn like Sirius, but let me abate my guilt," Dawlish stated, locking the door behind him, leaving him alone to his single bed cell which paled in comparison comfort-wise to his room back at Grimmauld. He sat down, tucking the chocolate into a spot out of the way, before sitting down on the bed, pulling his legs up to his chin and sitting there, not expecting much of anything.

Except, Regulus definitely felt the presence of the Dementors, the way they sucked the joy out of everything. To only himself, he muttered, "It's not as if I had anything to be happy about in the first place."

Of course, in the back of his mind, Regulus did wonder how the feeling he felt now felt compared to when he drunk the draught of misery. Both involved very strong negative feelings, specifically the feeling of regret. Yet, in the back of Regulus' mind, there was this thought that the feelings of regret came on less strongly with the Dementor's presence than with the potion, not to mention he didn't feel as if he were going mad.

In comparison, it felt pleasant.

In the back of his mind, Regulus knew that the feeling brought on by the Dementors was in reality not pleasant, yet the comparison remained. The fact the potion brought on worse feelings wasn't a truly happy thought, so they couldn't take that feeling away, yet there didn't seem to be any kind of happy thoughts left to take away from him.

After all, Regulus lost his brother the moment Sirius stepped into Hogwarts, or perhaps it was when he went into Slytherin, the house that Sirius and his friend considered to be the number one enemy. He'd lost the security of family when Sirius ran away from home, so he tried holding onto that particular thought of making his parents happy and now even that was gone with all of his Black pride.

Except for...

He'd gotten the better of Voldemort, which in truth was the only happy thought, which was slightly tainted by the fact he did what he did because he almost got his House Elf killed if only he'd not given that one order. Kreacher though was alive, another happy thought...

Panic welled in his chest, his mind wondering if Kreacher was alive, particularly once his parents did indeed learn he was in Azkaban. "Wouldn't they blame him? Did he make it home alive? Did..." His head bolted up, so he looked at the wall and he called out. "Kreacher!"

A cracking sound was heard and the House Elf appeared. "Master Regulus?"

"I..." Regulus swallowed, realizing what he'd done. "I'm okay."

"Kreacher is glad that..." The House Elf paused, his ears going back. "Kreacher does not think that Master Regulus looks okay. Shall I fetch..."

"No! Don't fetch mother. Don't..." Regulus let out a sigh. "Don't let her know that I am here."

"Here is..." Kreacher looked around. "Kreacher should get Master Regulus..."

"No. No helping me escape, or helping anybody else for that matter," Regulus swallowed. He got down onto his knees, rubbing the top of the House Elf's head which made the creature look at him. "I just wanted to know that you were okay."

"Kreacher is okay, but Kreacher is not sure Master Regulus is."

"I'll be okay if I know you're okay. And maman and father, so don't you tell them anything. Don't let any harm come to them." He pressed his forehead against Kreacher's forehead. "Thank you."

"Why is Master Regulus thanking Kreacher. Kreacher is simply..."

"I know. I know. Doing your duty to the House of Black. Still, I am so grateful to you."

"But Kreacher could do so much more. Kreacher could..."

"I know, I know," Regulus sighed. "But this is enough, coming and seeing me every so often, so long as nobody else is around. This is what I need to do. Go back home and take care of maman and father. But this, all of this. This stays between us."

Knobby fingers reached up, ruffling locks of black hair while Regulus attempted to remain calm in front of Kreacher until the House Elf left. In the back of his mind, there was still the thought of him not fully thinking things through.