The Life and Lies of Cassiopeia Rosier- Regulus Black

.the bitter aftermath.

.you wake up every morning to fight the same demons that left you so tired the night before, and that, my love, is bravery.

My consciousness faded in and out, but for how long, I could not tell. Time it seemed, had become insignificant. It was something that governed our world, yet in some moments, it becomes utterly inconsequential.

In my conscious moments, I could hear hushed voices, but could never make out any of the words that were being said. Images flashed before me, two figures with jet black hair. One of them had a hand intertwined with my own. I could feel the pressure on my fingertips; each touch sent a wave of pain and nausea through my body. Yet I didn't want to let go, the contact of another, a quiet reassurance that I was safe.

Another figure appeared in the haze of my vision, forcing a liquid with a remarkably bitter taste down my throat. Before I could process anything else, or glean any more information about my surroundings, I faded out of consciousness.

When I came to again, I was back in the black cave. A place that I never wanted to see again. The feeling inside was thick and oppressive, and I knew that the magic that had been worked there was of the most hateful and evil nature. I knew what was coming next, I had seen as much before. A boy appeared, but this time I watched as he made his way to the island.

Regulus Black detached a boat from the far bank and charmed it to move of its own accord. But this time, I could see that he wasn't alone. A small figure stood beside him, mumbling words that I could not understand under its breath. A pang of familiarity struck me as I realized that I had seen this creature before. It had been years, but the houself had been part of my early childhood. Kreacher. That was his name, and he had always been particularly fond of Regulus. Regulus, who had a heart of starlight. Pure and beautiful.

I watched as they reached the island and approached a crystallized basin. The contents glowed an iridescent green. Almost as if an emerald had been crushed into fine dust and liquidized. One glance told me that it was a type of poison. Whatever it was, the feeling of this pit told me it wouldn't be pleasant to see the effects of the potion.

Questions swirled around in my mind. What was he going to do? Why would he be in a place of such oppressive evil? Was this a dream? Merlin. Let this be a dream. But somewhere deep inside, I knew that this was no dream and that thought terrified me.

Horror overtook me as Regulus used a shell to scoop up some of the potion and drain the contents of the shell, while quickly instructing Kreacher to force the rest of the potion down his throat when he could continue no longer on his own.

"No!" I screamed, running to his side. "Stop. You don't know what's inside." But he couldn't see me or hear me. Desperately I put my hand on his shoulder, attempting to make him face me. But as if I was a ghost, my hand fell straight through the flesh of his body. Panic rose inside of me as I saw the potion start to find its grip.

His eyes grew wide, and the stormy gray was almost indiscernible against the pitch black of his pupils. Shudders started to overtake his body, and sweat beaded against his brow and hairline. Yet, he had a fierce soul and took another swipe at the potion, and a third draining more of the basin's contents. But after three cups, the burden became too much.

I watched the man I loved fall to his knees, the world seeming to come apart around him. His breath became quick and labored as if every draw into his lungs was a burden he couldn't bear. I quickly fell to my knees by his side, desperate to find a way to relieve his suffering.