What He Left Behind | Regulus Black One-Shot

1

Absolutely! Here's a one-shot combining all the ideas—a story that intertwines the discovery of the portrait, Neville's connection to the original Order, the legacy of Regulus Black, and his pivotal role in the battle. This piece will take you through Neville's journey of growth, connection, and courage as he finds the strength to carry on the Order's mission.

Title: Shadows of the Past

The Room of Requirement was quiet as Neville slipped inside, the walls stretching to reveal shelves stacked with broken trinkets, ancient scrolls, and faded portraits. He was supposed to be searching for something useful for Dumbledore's Army, but instead, he found himself lost in thought, thinking of the people who had fought before him—the original Order of the Phoenix, the sacrifices his parents had made.

The flicker of movement caught his eye, drawing him to a portrait tucked in the corner. A woman stared back at him, her eyes both sharp and sorrowful, her frame worn but her presence demanding attention.

"You..." she whispered, her voice thin and cracked. "You're... different."

Neville blinked, uncertain. "Who are you?"

The woman looked at him with a mixture of sadness and relief, her gaze lingering on his face as if searching for someone else in him. "I was someone once, long ago. I loved... I loved a boy who tried to fight back." She paused, her voice breaking slightly. "He wanted to protect me, so he hid me here, thinking it would keep me safe."

Neville felt a chill. "Who was he?"

Her eyes softened. "Regulus Black."

The name resonated within him, a ghost of a memory. He knew the stories—Sirius's younger brother, who had once served Voldemort before turning against him. But the tales were whispered, unclear, and no one seemed to know what had really happened to him.

"He tried to fight... but he was afraid," she murmured. "Afraid of Voldemort, afraid of his family, afraid that he couldn't protect the people he loved. So he left me here, thinking... thinking I'd be safe. But he didn't come back."

She fell silent, staring off into the distance, lost in memories that only she could see.

"He didn't die for nothing," Neville said gently. "He left something behind. Something important. That's why I'm here. We're all fighting him... Voldemort. My friends and I, we're trying to finish what he started."

Her gaze snapped back to him, sharp with recognition. "You're one of them, aren't you? The new generation." A faint smile played at her lips. "Maybe... maybe there's hope yet."

They spoke often after that first encounter. Whenever Neville found himself overwhelmed with doubt or haunted by memories of his parents, he'd slip away to the Room of Requirement, finding solace in her voice. She told him stories of Regulus, of his quiet courage, his regrets, his final stand against Voldemort. She knew only fragments, pieces of what had happened to him, but her memories painted a picture of a boy who had defied the darkest wizard alive—and paid for it.

One evening, as he was preparing to leave, she called him back.

"There's something you must know, Neville," she said, her voice steady with a resolve that he hadn't heard before. "Regulus went to the cave to destroy something—a Horcrux, a piece of Voldemort's soul. He knew that as long as those pieces existed, Voldemort could never truly be defeated. But he couldn't finish what he started."

"A Horcrux?" Neville whispered, feeling a surge of dread and understanding. "Then there are more?"

She nodded, the sadness in her eyes deepening. "Yes. Regulus tried, but he was only one person, and... and he couldn't protect everyone he loved. But maybe you can."

Neville felt the weight of her words settle over him, a cold certainty that both terrified and emboldened him. If Regulus could face such darkness alone, perhaps he could do his part, too.

"Thank you," he said, his voice quiet. "I'll do whatever I can."

Her gaze softened. "You remind me of him, you know. The same quiet strength, the same loyalty. I think... I think he'd have trusted you."

The final battle arrived, a night of chaos and horror that Neville would never forget. As spells lit up the sky and Hogwarts trembled under the weight of dark magic, he found himself back in the Room of Requirement, searching for anything that might help them turn the tide.

"Back again?" she whispered, her voice as soft as a shadow.

"It's time," he replied, swallowing his fear. "We're going to fight him, all of us. But... I don't know if we're enough."

She watched him, her gaze steady, the hint of a smile touching her lips. "You are enough. Regulus believed that even one person could make a difference, that his small act could weaken Voldemort. And you... you're not alone."

She reached out, a hand pressed against the frame, and he felt the faintest pulse of warmth through the glass. "Regulus created a spell—a charm to shield those he loved. It's powerful... but it will take everything you have. Use it to protect those who fight beside you. Use it to keep them safe."

Neville nodded, the weight of her words settling over him like armor. "I'll protect them. I'll make sure this fight isn't for nothing."

She watched him for a moment, pride shining in her eyes. "Thank you, Neville. For carrying on the mission he started. For being the person he never had the chance to become."

With a final, steadying breath, he left her portrait and joined the others in battle, the warmth of her presence lingering with him as he fought, his spells fierce and unyielding. With each act of bravery, he felt the echoes of those who'd come before him, the courage of Regulus, the quiet strength of his parents, and the resilience of all those who had defied the darkness.

In the aftermath, as dawn crept over the battered grounds of Hogwarts, Neville returned to the Room of Requirement. The portrait was still there, her face a mixture of sadness and pride.

"It's done," he said quietly. "He's gone."

She nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Then Regulus's sacrifice... it wasn't in vain."

For a moment, they were silent, sharing the bittersweet understanding of loss and victory. Then, with a final look, she closed her eyes, her portrait fading into silence, her story finally at peace.

Neville left the room, feeling the weight of her legacy and Regulus's sacrifice in every step. He'd fulfilled a mission started by a boy he'd never known, honoring a family's redemption and carrying forward the torch of a fight that had spanned generations.