The Marauders: Year Six Part 2 #Wattys2017

The Blood, The Bowl, and The Locket

The Blood, The Bowl, and The Locket

"What is this place?"

Regulus Black's voice echoed off the stone walls, vibrating through the darkness.

"Lumos," came the Dark Lord's only reply. And the bone-white wand illuminated at the tip, a glow so bright and concentrated that it was near to blinding flashed from the wand and the Dark Lord's structured face was cast in the glow. Regulus winced, eyes already unused to light, and looked away so as not to be staring directly at it - or at the piercing stare of Voldemort. The Dark Lord turned, taking his wand with him, the light shifting, casting long, shivering shadows over the stone interior of the cavern.

It wasn't a terribly huge cavern, from what Regulus could see of it at least. It was dank and dreary and terrible, though, and there was a horrid, thick smell to the air that made it hard to breathe deeply. Regulus thought that it smelled like death and rotting seaweed. They walked around a narrow ledge that bordered the cave and Regulus peered at the black void beside them warily, his eyes searching it for some clue how far down it went... when he realized it wasn't a black void at all. It was water. Smooth, unmoving water, that stood so stagnant that the surface itself had been hardly visible.

Regulus's heart beat faster. He'd had dreams of this place - he knew he had. Terrible dreams. Dreams of falling and falling and falling forever, of never stopping falling, of dying falling through the thick black, unmoving water...

He looked up at Voldemort's back as they walked, and he quickly pressed himself as close to the wall as he could, keeping his shoulder scraping against stone as he glanced uneasily at the pool beide him and he wondered how deep it was, if it truly was unending like in his dreams, and what they could possibly be doing here, in this cave, in this dark, beside these still waters.

Suddenly Voldemort came to a stop, and Regulus, having been staring down at the water, nearly walked right into his back and had to stop short so that his trainers scraped the floor and several pebbles and a spray of dust flew forward and sprinkled across the water's surface, the stones falling through with plopping sounds.

Voldemort hissed with displeasure, his eyes flashing at the water's surface and - for a moment - Regulus thought he might see fear in the Dark Lord's eyes - concern, at least - as he cast his wand downward, aiming for the surface, staring, watching... his eyes searching... But nothing happened, the surface returned to it's perfect smoothness. "Be more careful, boy," he commanded. "It does no good to awaken that which lies in the depths."

Regulus felt as though his very blood had been replaced by ice. He looked up at Voldemort, then down at the smooth surface of the water, and he felt excruciatingly afraid of what might linger there that was so incredibly, horridly terrifying that even the Dark Lord himself was frightened of it...

"Suscitabo navis," Voldemort breathed, his voice like smoke weaving through the air.

And there was a shivering in the water, a murmuring across the surface, and slowly from the blackness there came a shape, water pouring over it. A small boat, dark grey against the black of the water, with a slightly translucent appearance, as though it were a ghost. Voldemort looked at Regulus and he nodded at the boat - a silent command to step aboard.

Shaking, Regulus stepped forward. He very much would have preferred to stay right where he was, on the solid ground, away from that horrible pool of water, but he wasn't much in the mind to challenge the Dark Lord's command at this time, either. Voldemort was in no mood to be prodded. Especially not after what happened back at Durmstrang, and Regulus was still unsure what purpose they could have here in this cave, what reason the Dark Lord was taking him here into this place. So he took a deep breath and he reached for the boat, which was close enough to get in, but far enough he would need to jump a little over the water, to hang in space above the surface for a moment, and the thought terrified him. He looked at the black, still water as he stepped over it, stretching to reach the boat, clumsily making the little thing sway on the water from side to side as he clutched the sides. The boat was soaked, the wood slightly softened from being under the water, and it was deathly cold. He sat on the bench seat and watched as the Dark Lord stepped ungracefully into the boat as well, careful that his long robes did not touch the water and it struck Regulus how humorous Voldemort holding his robes up over his calves might be if only he wasn't so fearful for his life.