Summary: What if Regulus was able pass along word to someone about the locket and the possibility of Dark Lord having made a Horcrux before his untimely death? For HSWWF. AU. Character death. Not a happy ending.

Disclaimer:The Wizarding World of Harry Potter does not belong to LittleTee, (who shall henceforth be referred to as "The Author.") While the plot of this fanfiction, (henceforth to be referred to as the "Story,") is of The Author's creation, neither the characters nor the locations therein belong to The Author, as they belong to JK Rowling, with the exception of any characters or locations within this Story which have no representation in cannon-these original characters and locations are the property of The Author. This is a work of fiction produced for the single purpose of entertaining fans of Harry Potter, and no Copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note:This is a short Regulus Black one-short for a class on the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Forum. Character death.

Submission for: Potions - Assignment 4: Drink of Despair.

Task: For this task I would like you to write about someone in a desperate situation.

Word Count: 802


oooOOOooo

He was dying. He knew it could be a possibility when he went out here. He had hoped that he could live through this. The Dark Lord had to be stopped. If that meant his life, then he would. He wasn't a coward.

"Master Regulus?" Kreacher asked concern evident in his voice.

"It's alright," Regulus lied, "go on. Don't let that locket out of your sight."

Regulus watched as Kreacher departed out of the horrid cave. He laughed as he wished he could apparate out of the dank and depressing cave as well. Not just from the cave but away from the Death Eaters and away from death. He fell to his knees and embraced himself. Wishing that he had something warmer with him. He felt so cold. Too cold.

He wished he had accepted his brother's offer of joining Dumbledore's group of rebels. He wished Sirius hadn't been the only one to inherit the rebel spirit.

He closed his eyes against the pain and despair that rocked him. He wished he had learned to cast a Patronus. He had heard rumors from other Death Eaters that members of the Order of the Phoenix could pass along messages that way. Through the casters Patronus. If only. . .

Maybe. Just maybe he should try casting it. If it killed him like the other Death Eaters who had tried to cast the Patronus in hopes of forming it to the Dark Lord's will then what matter was it if he died by being consumed by his own wand versus dying this way.

He forced himself to his feet and attempted it. Focusing on the moment he caught the Golden Snitch for the very first time. It didn't produce anything however. Not a mist. Not an animal. Not even death itself. He tried twice more but still nothing. He closed his eyes and sobbed.

Why couldn't he produce a Patronus? Was he that much more of a failure then his disowned brother?

No. He had to do it. It was the Drink of Despair that was keeping him from doing it. If only he had some water. Something to take the over whelming bitterness out of his mouth.

Mustering his courage again and tuning out his fears, doubts and desire for anything to drink he focused all his energy on one last happy memory. One he had yet to try. When he had broken one of his mother's family relics while playing indoor quidditch with Sirius. He was about five or six at the time and he was certain he would be punished dearly for it, but his older brother had stepped in and took the blame and the punishment. For him.

"I'm the first born," Sirius answered proudly to Regulus' question of why he had taken the blame. It had been later that same night, all those years ago. Sirius had to pace or stand as sitting was still painful after being on the receiving end of their mother's ire. "My responsibility. We have to look after each other. Can't have the baby of the family getting hurt. I look after you, and -"

"I look after you."

"That all we can do Reg. It's just us two."

The last words of his brother echoed in his mind and he struggled to capture that feeling of hope and happiness those simple words that Sirius had uttered. Just us two. He swirled his wand and loudly proclaimed, "Expecto Patronum."

A silver mist poured out of his wand. He almost dropped his wand as he saw it swirl and dance around forming itself into a small bird. A raven.

He did it?

He laughed. He did it!

The impatience flipping of wings from the raven before him drew him back to the pressing matter at hand. Someone with the power to defeat the Dark Lord needed to know about the Horcrux, but how did someone send messages with a Patronus? Was there another charm, or did one simply talk to it? He prayed it was the latter as he knew he didn't have time to find a possible charm.

"Go find Sirius Black. Tell him that Kreacher has Slytherin's locket. That He Who Must Not Be Named has made it a . . . Horcrux. . . maybe more than one. . . to stop him you must destroy them first. . ." it was beginning to become very dim and his mouth felt very dry. Oh, if only he had something to drink! Each word were getting harder and harder to form.

"Brother. . . I-I'm dying. . . " to say it aloud hurt more then he realized it would. "don't search for me. . . tell Dumbledore all. . . Farewell brother."

He waved his wand to dismiss his Patronus and watched as it took flight and soared up and out of the cave. To safety. To the Light. Away from Regulus' tomb.

Fini


Author's Note 2: Did some editing. Fixed a few errors and added a little backstory here and there. Darker than usual I do have to admit but maybe in this universe the right people got hold of the information in time to keep some people from dying. Leave a review with your thoughts, please.