Black Rose [Regulus Black]

43 - empty fridges & strange nightmares

His days started off the same way. He'd be floating blissfully, the light bright but not glaringly so, the water cool against his skin. It was paradise, considering the scorching heat that had engulfed the country and blindsided everyone.

And a tendril would slowly wrap itself around him, seeming almost affectionate until he opened his eyes to make contact with another pair of eyes. To this day, he wasn't capable of describing what colour they were, simply because he didn't know. They looked blue but green but brown, all at the same time, flashes of red adorning them. All he knew that the eyes were unsettling. As were their owner.

Their gnarly owner. Owners. Plural. He began thrashing as more tendrils wrapped themselves around him, wrinkly skin making a sickening noise as slimy hands slid against his skin.

He choked as his head was shoved underwater, revealing thousands of skeletons laying below. All the victims of the war. Little trinkets hanging from them. Regulus recognized Sirius with a jolt, the punk band hanging limply from his wrist.

Lily's golden wedding ring had lost its shine.

His mother's eyes flashed at him.

"Regulus!"

"Ow," Alessandra whispered, rubbing her now-aching nose. Miraculously, he hadn't broken it.

"What?" he mumbled. He could've sworn his hands were glowing faintly, a silver noose wrapped around each of his wrists.

"What do you mean, what?" she hissed. "You headbutted me. In the nose. I think you broke it."

"Oh, that's why my head hurts."

The lights were off but he was willing to bet his life she was contemplating shoving him off the bed.

"Is it one of those again?" she asked, her voice softer this time. He startled as hands began tracing the scars on his back, the ones he wished he could leave behind in the catatonic state he entered every time he shut his eyes. He relaxed a little, realizing the contrast between the pairs of hands.

One was wrinkled, cold, promising to take him away from home. The other was soft, warm, promising him home.

"I'm never escaping them."

"You say it with such certainty, but I think they'll leave you soon enough."

"I don't even know who 'they' is," Regulus grumbled. "The Dark Lord? My mother? The wizarding world as a whole? Everyone?"

"Definitely not everyone," Alessandra said. "Sirius is on our side."

There was a crash from outside.

"That's reassuring," Regulus said after a short pause. "Quick, hurry, lock the door before the git-"

"Good morning, sunshines!" Sirius roared. Regulus wished the nightmares would swallow him again, and the vision of Sirius' punk band hanging limply from the bone wrapped him in guilt. "Sleep well?"

"It's too early for this shit," he could hear Remus mutter from outside. "Padfoot, it's seven in the morning. Leave them alone."

"I heard the bed creaking at six thirty. I think they're awake."

"No, that's not-" Alessandra squeaked in mortification.

"So, Alessandra, good news, we're all meeting the Marauders in a couple of hours."

Regulus shot up, mercifully missing Alessandra's nose this time. "But we agreed that Peter would not know anything about Sandra and I staying here."

"Yes, yes, not Wormtail," Sirius said impatiently. "Prongs and Lily are coming though."