Runaway love | Jegulus

Chapter 6

This is a slightly longer chapter. It's very dark and sad. (I promise there is happy chapters coming soon!). Isla

Regulus felt as though he was being ripped apart as he was being squeezed through time and space. He gasped for air as his body slammed against a cold, wooden floor. He was instantly sick, so disorientated that he could barely see or hear anything. A second ago he had been happily preparing to board the Hogwarts Express and now he was somewhere completely different. As he continued to choke up vomit, he spotted a pair of perfectly polished, dark green shoes across the room, and everything came back to him. His father had been there, at the station, he had grabbed his shoulder, Regulus had seen the terror in Sirius's eyes before he was pulled away, his father had apparated him from the station.

Fear overcame Regulus and he knew he had to escape. He tried to pull himself off of the floor but found that he couldn't move. He cried out, desperately trying to get away from the place he'd been brought to. The mess before him disappeared and he felt a force pulling him to his knees, forcing his head up. It was as though someone was holding him in place, binding him with invisible rope, or chains. He stared ahead, struggling as hard as he could to free himself from the magical hold.

"Stop acting like a fool Regulus." A sharp voice cut through the room and Regulus's mother stepped out of the darkness. He stopped struggling instantly. He couldn't control the terror that he knew was written on his face as he stared at her.

Walburga Black was a ghastly woman. She was tall, impossibly thin and her skin was so white it was almost translucent. Her eyes were grey, the same as her son's, but hers were filled with anger, resentment, power and not an ounce of love. Her long, dark hair was pinned meticulously to her head, exposing her neck and razor-sharp collarbones. Her cheekbones stuck out of her face, more severely defined than Sirius and Regulus's, her skin seemed sunken. To someone who didn't know her, she might have been mistaken as fragile but to those who did know her, she was a terrifying force of nature, not to be underestimated. She stared down at Regulus, clasping her wand in her hand. She was seething with anger.

He opened his mouth to beg for forgiveness but was cut off by wordless magic and the swift movement of his mother's wand. He wasn't able to look down at his shirt but could feel the agonizing sting of a blade cut through his skin, cutting a line across his stomach. Regulus could tell that it wasn't deep enough to do serious damage, but it was a magical wound and he knew that it would leave a scar that would never fade. The mental scarring now had a physical counterpart, something it had never had before. Regulus knew that Sirius had endured this pain many times before and this thought stopped Regulus from crying out, if Sirius could endure it, so could he.

"You will stop this façade and return home Regulus. You belong to us." His father appeared before him; his eyes still filled with furious anger. Regulus whimpered quietly. "You will not leave this house again until you act as the Black Heir should. You may have felt clever for running away and staying with blood-traitors, half-bloods, and your disgusting excuse for a brother but I can assure you it was a big mistake. One that we will ensure will never be repeated."

Orion was a terrifying man. He paraded his pure-blood status like a badge of honour and would never willingly allow someone who didn't share his status in his house, or presence. He was an extremely strong dark wizard. He could perform unforgivable curses with barely any concentration, he was a strong follower of The Dark Lord and he was ready for the day when Pure-Bloods were the only wizards left. Standing over his immobilized, terror-stricken son, he felt nothing. No guilt, no regret, no care at all. He felt only anger and embarrassment and he knew how he would punish the boy in a way that would stop him from misbehaving in future.

"Crucio!" Orion hissed, guiding the red flash of light from his wand to Regulus.

The force that had bound Regulus to the spot fell away, allowing his body to fall back against the hard floor once again. As the curse hit Regulus, he was consumed by a pain stronger than anything he had felt before. Every nerve in his body was electrocuted, his muscles spasmed beyond control and his vision began to blur. As his body convulsed, he could feel his head repeatedly hitting the floor, but he could do nothing to stop it. His eyes rolled back in his head and he was stuck in the darkness. For, what felt like forever Regulus could do nothing. He was screaming with every bit of force he could muster, but no sound was coming out. If he'd been able to form a cohesive thought, Regulus would've wondered if this was what dying felt like. He wished he was dead. He wanted the cold release of death to free him from the agony he was in. When the curse dropped him from its grasp, he was rendered unable to move, he just laid on the floor in the foetal position, eyes staring ahead, empty. His body continued to twitch and spasm, still trying to recover from the assault it had just endured but he couldn't feel anything anymore. He was numb.