"One replica of Salazar Slytherin's locket," the cashier at Borgin and Burke's held out his and dropped the precious locket into the hand of the eighteen year old in front of him. "Any reason you need this?"
Regulus put the locket in the pocket of his robe, "Not that that's any of your business, Fawley."
Fawley shrugged, and held out his hand, which Regulus filled with galleons. "Thank you for doing business."
Regulus shrugged, "No problem at all. Remember the deal we made?"
Fawley leaned over the counter and gave a crooked smile, "No matter what happens to you, never disclose the information that you bought that locket. Come on, Black! We were roommates in school, I know you're keeping something."
Regulus looked around the room, "That still isn't your business. Now I must be heading out. Goodbye, Fawley."
"Goodbye, Black! See you soon!" He called, as Regulus walked out the door.
Facing the cold air, Regulus breathed deeply, "I highly doubt that."
Most eighteen year olds would sit at their desk to do school work, or job applications.
Not Regulus Arcturus Black, he was signing his death warrant. He fiddled his quill between his fingers, and looked at the little house elf sitting on the floor next to him, "How does; To The Dark Lord, sound, Kreature?"
Kreature looked nervous at his young master, "Kreature thinks it is a good start, Master Regulus, but Kreature still thinks this is a bad idea."
Regulus didn't look at the elf, instead opted to speak while writing, "I think Sirius is right. The Dark Lord did cruel things, to you and to everyone else. I have to defy him."
Kreature looked at his master with tears in his eyes, "Why can't Master Regulus go to Sirius for help then?"
Regulus meticulously folded the letter and placed it in the locket, "I have to do this alone. Take me to where the horcrux is Kreature. And my orders are that no matter what, you are to return here and destroy it. You aren't to stay for me."
"But Master Regulus...." Kreature pleaded.
"That's my final order." Kreature reached out his hand, and together, they left with a pop.
Only years later will anyone know what the boy had written that fateful night. Only years later will his sacrifice be honoured. Only years later will a trio only a year or two younger than him read that death warrant aloud:
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
And realize that the youngest Black was truly a hero.
