Forum: The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.

Season: 5

Team: Falmouth Falcons

Round:9

Position: Seeker

Prompt(s): You must write using the Hoops, Goggles or Snitch prompt. Your Captain and Keeper must choose the other two prompts.

Goggles: Write about a witch or wizard seeing someone in a new light."

Word count:1,782 (According to MS Word)

Disclaimer: Anything recognizable does not belong to me. The rights are owned by JK Rowling and WB Studios.

Beta: Aima D. Duragon, QueenVulca, Flye Autumn

"Regulus," the Dark Lord said. I shivered at the sound of his voice. With every single passing day, his voice sounded more and more like the hissing of a snake. Being from Slytherin, this was ironic. If only Sirius could hear me now...

"Rise."

I stood up, straight. I didn't dare look him in the eye. At the age of seventeen, I was the youngest Death Eater he had ever recruited which resulted in many others looking down on me. But every step I took brought happiness to my mother and I owed her that.

"I require your services," he stated.

I inclined my head subserviently. "Anything that I can do, my Lord."

"I need your House-elf."

I froze. Had he asked for anything else - the Black family's riches, our status, our power - I would have given it to him without any second thoughts. But Kreacher - not only was this request rather odd and scary - Kreacher was very close to me and I did not wish him to become an object of experimentation.

"My Lord," I began, "If I could give you any other elf…"

"Are you defying me?" he asked, very slowly, each word making me shake with fear.

"Of course not, my Lord," I said, bowing deeper. It was a disgrace-a Black bowing for anyone. But the Dark Lord, well, he had great ideals. He was the leader we needed at that time, removing all the dirty mudbloods who had polluted our world. And if I had to bow in front of him to support those ideals and fight for what was right, I was willing to do so.

"Good," he finally said. "Then I will ask for the elf when I require him."

With one wave of a hand, I was dismissed.

As I Apparated back home, Kreacher, my elf, was standing there, waiting for me.

"Master Regulus!" he greeted excitedly like he always did. "Does Master require anything?"

"A strong glass of firewhiskey would be amazing." He bowed and Apparated away. I couldn't help but smile at his antics. It was a marvel how much he loved me and hated Sirius-but well, Sirius was a disgrace to Mother and to our family. Being a Black and being sorted into Gryffindor! Had it been Hufflepuff, I am sure it would have been less embarrassing.

As I walked into the dining room, I saw my father and mother, each reading a book. It was Father who noticed me first.

"Regulus. Back already?" he said, without lifting his eyes from the book.

"Yes, Father," I replied, taking my seat.

"How was it today, Son?" Mother asked. She went to school with the Dark Lord and was really interested in everything that happened when any Death Eaters met. I am sure, had her age been different, she would have eagerly joined his ranks.

"A lot, Mother," I started, "There is something that I need to discuss with you."

This actually got my father's attention. He closed his book and set it aside on the table.

"I pray, do tell," he said, leaning forward.

Kreacher appeared that very moment, holding a glass of firewhiskey. I knew it was better to talk about it in his presence.

"Previously, the Dark Lord had stated that he required help, so I volunteered. He called me today and told me he needed my House-elf."

Mother began smiling like an overgrown child and began clapping her hands. Father was, as always, solemn but the glee in his eyes was not hard to miss. Even Kreacher, whom I feared would be scared, was jumping with joy.

"Oh, Master's Master requires Kreacher's help! Kreacher would do anything for him!" the elf exclaimed with joy, an uncharacteristic response from him in front of everybody.

"If it isn't the finest moment of our day!" Mother was saying.

I had to smile. However, his way of asking and I don't know what, but something made me suspicious.

I didn't hear from my Lord for next few days. Everybody went on with their lives after the news. Well, except Mother who would boast to anyone who would listen and actually be jealous. Why, Aunt Druella was red when she heard it! Cousin Bella even sent me a Howler.

But those things didn't bother me. What bothered me was Dark Lord's changing appearance. Yes, it was none of my business. Yes, I had better work to do. But I knew how to spot Dark and Ancient Magic and this was nothing else but that. His changing appearance and the way he talked - there was a residue of some very Dark Magic and though I knew it, I couldn't place it. Growing up in a dark household, I knew what Dark Magic felt like. Earlier that day, he was just like any other person. But, then...

Thus, I began to read one of the many books in our library, trying to research it when I felt the summoning. Before I knew it, I was kneeling before the Dark Lord.

"My Lord," I greeted as usual.

"I require the elf," he commanded, wasting no time with formalities. Afterall, time was precious.

I nodded and shouted. "Kreacher!"

Immediately, the old elf stood beside me, bowing low and shaking.

"Master called?" he asked, his large eyes looking around with curiosity.

"Yes," I confirmed. "My master requires your help. You are to assist him every way and return to me once the work is done to me. That is an order. Am I clear?"

Kreacher nodded. In front of my very eyes, he disappeared. Of course, I didn't know then that I was sending him to his death.

When I returned home, I went straight back to reading.

The moments slipped away and before I knew it, it was dark. I almost allowed myself to be taken by sleep when a specific page caught my attention.

A Horcrux is an object in which a Dark wizard or witch has hidden a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining immortality. Horcruxes can only be created after committing murder, the supreme act of evil.The first Horcrux was created by Herpo the Foul long before the modern era. Horcruxes by their nature appear to be extraordinarily durable, as only very destructive magic and processes could truly destroy them.

I swear to Merlin, that was one time that my brain refused to cooperate. His slit eyes, his snake-like voice-it all began to make sense.

Until today, I maintain that no matter how great his cause was, or how noble he made it sound, it was not true. That man was a monster! Splitting his soul? I knew, to the extent he had changed, that he had made more than one Horcrux. Even Herpo the Foul, whose portrait I have seen, didn't look so monstrous!

And slowly, everything Sirius had ever said to me began making sense. Now, as a dead man, I understand things like Muggle-borns and half-bloods. But then, it wasn't what made me angry. It was his preference. As a Black, I have known one thing-stand straight with your head held high in whatever you believe. That was one trait both Sirius and I shared.

I would never tolerate pretence, and Voldemort-yes I used that monster's name then for the first time was a big hoax. He lured people in, drove them mad, with my cousin Bella being the biggest example, and then led his army of idiots on a fool's mission.

I had barely been able to manage my anger when Kreacher appeared beside me.

My loyal elf, weak and almost dead, was crying out in pain.

I remember him shouting in pain and telling me how the so-called Dark Lord used him in a cave, made him drink a monstrous potion, and left him to die.

"Take me there, Kreacher," I said once my head had calmed down.

"But Master…"

"That's an order!"

He nodded. Before we left, I wrote a small note that I would leave for him:

"To the Dark Lord

I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.

R.A.B."

Kreacher led me into the cave with his magic. We had to ride a small rickety boat to reach the island, and thankfully we arrived there in one piece.

I do try to never talk about my death. The few moments I spent there, on that island, were not only daunting but also life-changing. Every single time I had killed someone, torture someone, hurt someone, it all came back to me with every drop of that potion.

When I saw that locket-Salazar Slytherin's locket!-of all things, I knew Voldemort had crossed a line. Not only had he corrupted such an important relic, but also destroying it meant destroying the one thing we had left of the great Salazar!

I managed to replicate the locket and press the note into the fake locket. Holding the ancient piece of the artifact, I felt angry. Angry that the man even dared to do it. And scared. The magic was seeping through the edges, making me nauseous.

And when I needed water, the Inferi dragged me down. I had ordered, before dying, Kreacher to go and save himself. He had done so, crying and sobbing.

But, as I died, I remember thinking how wrong I had been about so many things. Not only did I discover the Voldemort's secret, but also my brother's words' truth. That our parents were mad and they, too, were wrong. I remember dying at peace, knowing I had done the best I could.

Now of course, as I am sitting in the sitting room in my afterlife with my drunk brother passed out beside me, I can only laugh. He had called me a Gryffindor, a bloody Gryffindor out of everything!

But he had also told me how proud he was of me and how much he loved me.

I know that this is a tale that doesn't really need to be told. But after seeing so many people die and killing them at my own hands, seeing the destruction, I at least needed to tell people why I did it. I need to tell people how content I am with my li-afterlife. I need to tell people I died knowing people in the new light and that it was the best thing that happened to me.

So, worth a review?