Dead of Night

On May 2nd of 1966, at dawn, the Wizarding World lost.

They lost a war, and they lost their magic. Some lost their family and friends, and many lost their lives.

And it wasn't just them. Without the presence of magic and the balance it maintains, the world was thrown off its kilter-the peace between life and death disturbed irrevocably. The dead began to walk again, hell bent on consuming the last life on earth.

Pure-bloods went into hiding. An underground bunker was built for the Sacred Twenty-Eight on the limb of the world corrupting. Their blood had to be preserved in order to carry out their pure lines.

Twelve years later, the Pure-bloods are at the end of their line on resources. They haven't stepped foot on green grass since before the Dawn, but the circumstances are forcing them out of their safe-haven-which grows less and less safe every passing day. The world outside-or, what's left of it-is an unknown domain, now. No one knows what roams and resides on the planet.

It's been the great unknown to Regulus since he was five years old. But one thing's for sure.

Dawn has come and gone, and night is closing in.

( James Potter/Regulus Black: Apocalypse AU - Also on Ao3 )