The Art of Dying - R. Black

fifty eight

Song for this chapter: Already Gone - Sleeping at Last

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Regulus Black

July 17th, 1981

It's been getting unbearably hot for the past week, which means that it's time for me to leave. I've been staying in Marseille for the past month, and this is a good excuse to go somewhere else.

It is nice. Nobody knows me here. I got a new wand so that I can't be traced. There's a wizarding community here, with a hidden block that reminds me too much of Hogsmeade. The only talk off war here is in the newspapers. I've gotten somewhat accustomed to things here. I often find myself wandering the main block, seeking comfort in the things that remind me of my old life.

I've been on the run for two years, never staying in one place for more than a few months.

I've been to various cities throughout several countries in Europe. Vienna was my favorite, but I had to leave after three months so that nobody caught on to the fact that I am on the run from the Dark Lord since I stole his stupid locket.

I wish I could go back to my normal life, but that wasn't even a possibility until Voldemort was defeated.

I step under the awning of the newspaper cart, seeking refuge from the sun. My eyes scan over the newspapers, looking at the front covers. Sure enough, there's a stack of Daily Prophet's, all the way from the U.K..

Because of the war, I've managed to get my hands on a copy of the Daily Prophet in every single city I've been. I like to stay updated on everything that's happening.

I grabbed one of the copies, doing a double take at the front cover.

In the bottom right corner, a picture of a smiling family caught my eye. The caption read, "Family of four murdered for being 'blood traitors'!"

I frantically searched through the newspaper for the article giving more details. My heart was beating out of my chest and I found it increasingly harder to breathe. When I found the article, I read through the entire thing as quickly as possible.

The McKinnon's, a British half-blood family, were murdered in their own home on July 7th. Both parents, along with their daughters, Marlene, 21, and Meredith, 20.

It is a presumed Death Eater attack, both Marlene and Meredith being known supporters against the Dark Lord who took part in the Battle of the Ministry in April. Neighbors report hearing screams from the house minutes before it went up in flames. All four family members are presumed dead.

I blinked back tears that were stinging my eyes, and set the paper back down and stepped back into the street.

Just one more block.

I could not lose my shit in public. I cannot draw any extra attention to myself.

I walked quickly despite the fact that it felt like my whole world was collapsing around me.

Just two flights of stairs.

Tears were brimming my eyes, threatening to spill out and never stop. I reached the door of my flat and unlocked it, slamming the door behind me.

I collapsed to my knees, my head dropping into my lap. My body was racked with sobs as I processed the information I had just read.

Meredith is dead.

She was killed by a Death Eater.

They burned down her house.

She's dead.

The person that I love most in this world is dead.

I felt like I couldn't breathe, like someone had just stabbed me in the chest and twisted the knife. The worst imaginable thing that could happen, happened.

Meredith is dead.

I don't know how long I sat on the floor, leaned up against the door, tears staining my shirt. It could've been hours, days.

All I know is that when I finally got up, it was completely dark out, the moon and the stars being the only light source. I threw all of my things into my trunk and sealed it shut.

I can't be here any longer.

I looked at my map, seeing if anything stood out to me. Sure enough, there it was.

I grabbed my trunk and apparated, leaving 'my' barely furnished apartment behind.

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Knowing that she's dead keeps me up at night. I've had nightmares before, but they stopped when I was with her. They crept back in once I left, occasionally waking me up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat.

It's been a week since I found out, and I have woken up every single night, my cheeks wet with tears, bed sheets tangled around my body, sweat beading my forehead.

It's a different dream every night, but it all ends with her dying. And it's my fault. I wasn't there to protect her.

I've been staying in a bed and breakfast in Athens. When I've actually been able to get out of bed throughout the past week, I've been getting newspapers and searching for flats to lease. I think I'm going to be here awhile.

Somehow I feel closer to Meredith.

She always wanted to travel to Greece, but she never got to. At least that I know of. I remember on my eighteenth birthday she said that we would come here together one day. But now, she's dead, and I'm here without her.

I hadn't seen her for two years before she died. I so badly wanted to see her, or at least write her a letter, but I knew I shouldn't. The more people who know that I'm alive, the more people who will come after me.

That's why Pandora is the only one who knows that I'm not actually dead.

I get a letter from Pandora about once a month. She tells me not to write back in case the owl gets intercepted, but she updates me on things. Her life, her marriage, her daughter, Luna. She was born the day before Valentine's day, and she looks like a carbon copy of Pandora. I would really like the chance to meet her if I could.

Pandora also gave me updates on Meredith. The two aren't very close, but for the past two years I had been living off of bits and pieces of Meredith's life without me.

She started dating Jack about a year ago.

I got pissed off when I found that out. But to be fair, she did believe that I was dead. At least she waited a year before getting together with that idiot.

I've been living off of bits and pieces of her life, and now I have none. There will be no more stories to hear about Meredith, no more pictures in the Daily Prophet when the Holyhead Harpies win yet another match. That's how I found out that her hair was darker. It's not extremely noticeable, but her hair isn't as blonde as it used to be.

From these scraps I know about her life now, Meredith had made quite a life for herself without me.

I miss her so much that it physically hurts.

It feels like my entire life collapsed around me. This is even worse than the night that I left. The way that she cried and begged me not to go. Somehow, it doesn't even compare to the pain that is eating me alive right now.

I can't help but think that this might be all my fault.