Wingardium Leviosa [Harry Potter one shot collection]

Overshadowed : Regulus Black

Drinking a potion to his death was making everything so vivid, though at the same time, so vague. Strange though it may seem, that was exactly what was happening to Regulus Black.

He was doing the right thing, he was sure of it. But at what cost? Most certainly his life. But was that enough?

Goblet by goblet, he forced his pale, thin arm upwards, tipping the rim towards his open mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as the liquid burned down his throat. He was seeing visions. Visions of the past.

There was only one thing he yearned. Absolution. Remission. He wanted to be forgiven for everything, he wanted to set everything right. It was never too late to do what was right, and he had arrived here on this desolate and deserted area on instinct.

He had been lured in by him, his family had egged him on. He had been honoured to join his side. He had been the golden child.

But he couldn't take it anymore.

"Master Regulus--please--don't--'' croaked his house elf.

"I have to, Kreacher," said Regulus faintly. He shuddered as he downed another goblet.

His thoughts wandered to his older brother. Sirius had always been a rebel, something Regulus never had been. The brothers, though similar in appearance, were entirely different in personality. There was a striking resemblance among the brothers-- the same, haughty good looks, the sleek, black hair and grey eyes; Sirius's playful, while Regulus's calculating. Regulus had always been smaller, scrawnier, while Sirius was tall and lean with a saunter in his gait. Sirius could charm nearly anyone, with a handsomeness that was far superior to Regulus's own looks. Sirius had always been outgoing, friendly, rambunctious and had a talent for getting into mischeif with his friends. Regulus had always been shy, reserved, and obsessed with keeping his toes in line. Sirius outshone him when it came to talent as well.

"Oh ho m'boy! Well done! Soon, you'll beat your older brother at potions!"

"Excellent effort, Mr Black. Transfiguration is one of your brother's strong points. Skilled, that one, very skilled..."

Regulus opened his eyes and panted. These memories. The potion was doing this to him.

Regulus had always been the object of their parents' affection. Sirius had been written off the moment he had been sorted into Gryffindor and had begun ridiculing the Dark Lord's plans. After six years, he had finally run away from home, to join his best friend, the blood traitor, James Potter.

"So this is it, then," said Regulus, watching his brother pack.

"Yup," Sirius replied, pulling on his shoes.

"You're free."

"Come with me. You don't have to stay here." Sirius said softly.

"I can't," Regulus said immediately and truthfully. He could never do that. Sirius nodded, grabbed his broom and heaved his trunk towards the door.

"Where will you go?" Regulus asked instinctively. Anything to keep Sirius there a bit longer.

"To the Potters'," said Sirius immediately. Regulus nodded. That was logical. Sirius placed his right hand on his shoulder. "So this is good bye then."

Regulus jerked his head in a nod.

"Yeah."

"See you at Hogwarts, I suppose."

"Yeah, see you."

He had felt a childish impulse to join Sirius at that moment, but he had shrugged it off. It wasn't his place to run away. Besides, his loyalty towards his family had always been an equal match with Sirius's loathing towards it.

It took everything in him to dip the goblet back into the basin instead of flinging it into the lake. He had to do this. He would do something right.

"Kreacher," said Regulus, closing his eyes briefly. The basin was nearly empty, and he could see something that bore a semblance to a chain at the bottom.

"Yes, master?" croaked the elf.

"When I finish this. . .I will replace the locket with this fake one," he said, bringing it from his robes. "You. . .will take the original. . .and do everything in your power to destroy it. . . Am I making myself clear?"

"Destroy it?" repeated Kreacher.

Regulus nodded. "Do everything you can. It must be destroyed. It's an order, Kreacher."

Kreacher bowed his head. "As you wish, master Regulus."

Fairly satisfied, Regulus proceeded to take another sip. He shuddered.

He remembered how he had lurked in the shadows on the night they attacked a few members of the Order. He remembered how James Potter tried to get his heavily pregnant wife out of the vicinity, how his brother, Sirius, had battled hard, not knowing that his younger brother stood a short distance away, cloaked by Death Eater attire.

"Lily! Get out! Apparate back!"

"James, you're coming with me!"

"Lily, not now--"

"Oy, James, get out with her, I'll handle this--"

"But Sirius--"

"Remus is here, along with other order members. Lily's in no state to be here, get her out!"

"Are you sure?"

"Go!"

He hadn't done anything, he hadn't attacked anyone. He had remained unnoticed in the shadows, unable to bring himself to attack Sirius and his friends. He couldn't.

"The McKinnons are all done with."

"All?"

"The whole family."

He now knew, of course, how stupid he had been. How blind.

Getting cold feet wasn't exactly the phrase he had in mind. Perhaps, it could be put that way. It was just that he only later realised how twisted the Dark Lord actually was, and how he had no love for any being. He had witnessed his allies being murdered by Voldemort all in a blink of an eye. For the Voldemort, his followers were dispensable. Nothing else.

And he was going to spend the last few moments of his life defying him. Nothing would give him more pleasure.

Nearly done.

There were only a few more goblet fulls left. He tried to steady his shaking arm as he blindly filled the goblet with more potion. His eyes had been closed for a while now, and he had no plan to open them for a while.

"How much left, Kreacher?" He managed to ask hoarsely.

"One more, master Regulus," the house elf whimpered.

Pleased, Regulus forced down the last goblet of the potion and slouched to the floor, panting. The visions were getting uncontrollable, the potion was burning his throat.

"Kreacher--the locket--" he mumbled.

The house elf shakily groped for the locket that was lying at the bottom of the basin and exchanged it with the one his master had given him. Immediately, dark shapes began rising from the water.

"Kreacher--Kreacher get out!"

"But master--"

"Get away from here--" Regulus breathed heavily. "Those are inferi. Get--away. Destroy the locket, Kreacher, do whatever you can to destroy it. . .'

Kreacher glanced at the pale, almost dead face of his beloved master, but he couldn't disobey a direct order. The inferi were coming closer, closer than ever. . .

This was it. Regulus had no strength in him to fight the inferi. He was certain that this was his end, and he wasn't frightened. He had done something good, he wouldn't die a complete servant of Voldemort.

As he blearily saw the dark shapes move closer to him, he vaguely wondered if Sirius would have been proud of him.