A/N: So this is just a quick one-shot based off of the song "truth" by Arashi as a reply to Ilia's Foreign Music challenge on HPFF.
Disclaimer: Asphodel, Asphodel, the only thing that's mine.
This is the truth that disappears like a lie,
Even if I spread my last wings, I can't change my fate,
As the lily blossom is short-lived, the pain never fades,
I could only love in my dreams.
"The girl must go, Regulus."
The words had been cycling through his head ever since this morning, when he had gotten the short, red missive that had spoken in that heartless voice he knew so well.
"The girl must go. The longer she lives, the more you are distracted. You know what you must do."
Didn't he know? Didn't he understand that if she was gone, if she left, that he would leave too? They had made a promise to each other, him and her.
I take your life, you take my life.
They were each other's soulmates, he was sure of it, and if she died, then Dammit, so would he!
The door creaked open slightly, and he shot up, eyes darting, chest heaving, searching for any sign of an intruder. There was a small giggle from the left corner, and his chest tightened.
"Relax, Regulus, it's just me—I realized I forgot an important assignment for work tomorrow here, and I just thought I would drop in and grab it, and then I just decided I should come in and at least say good night.... Regulus, what's wrong, you look pale as a ghost!"
He didn't know what to say. Honestly, was there anything he could say to her that wouldn't be a complete and utter lie?
No. Of course not.
"Nothing," he said shortly, and she cocked an eyebrow, barely visible through the dim glow of the night-light.
"Regulus, you've been off since you came back from that meeting this morning. What happened, is someone hurt? Is something big going to happen and you're involved? I bet that's it. Don't be nervous, Regulus, you'll do fine, you always do. Why, I saw Narcissa the other day, and she was just telling me how much the Dark Lord admires your—"
"Stop. That's not it," he said thickly, unwilling to hear any more secondhand praise from the one man he hated the most right now.
"Well, if that's not it, then what is?" she asked, plopping herself down near the foot of his bed, and he shook his head.
"Oh. I understand. You aren't supposed to talk about it, right? Okay then, if that's all, I guess I'll just go now. I love you and I'll see you tomorrow if I can get off, it's getting near All-Hallows and Andrea's getting awfully stressed over the layouts for the experimental col—"
"Wait." He couldn't stop himself from saying it. She looked at him expectantly, without judgement or fear, and he wondered just how fair he was being to her. He clutched his wand under the bedsheets, knowing that this was what he had to do, what he had been ordered to do, the spell for a quick and painless... painless.
No. He just couldn't. He just wouldn't.
"Stay with me tonight." The words spilled out of his mouth in a voice that seemed not to be his own, and she bit her lip, looking conflicted for a few long agonizing moments. She finally nodded her consent, sighing as she nudged him over to the side of the bed. They settled comfortably next to each other, and Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, incapable of looking at the woman beside him who loved him and cared about him and whom he had just tried to kill.
"You know that whatever happens, I'll always love you, right?" she said quietly, and he opened his eyes reluctantly, nodding slowly and keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the ceiling. He wanted to tell her everything, to try and work out someplace safe for them to hide away forever—he was sure that bumbling old Headmaster would trip over his bootlaces in eagerness to help an ex-Slytherin with a girl like his Asphodel get out of the Death Eaters; the man was an weak-hearted fool, there was no doubt about that—but he couldn't subject her to that kind of danger.
The Dark Lord had ways of finding those who defected, and killing them was usually not the first thing on his mind.
He wanted to tell her that he loved her too, that his world revolved around everything she did—but he was a Black, and Blacks just didn't do that sort of thing!
"Same here," was the best he managed to mutter, although it apparently was enough as she began talking about her trivial, everyday life. Regulus retreated into his mind, making sure to remember to nod and smile at all of the appropriate points.
He was disgusted with himself. How could he sit there, pretend-listening to her bubbly, everyday chatter when he knew that in just a few days, in just a few moments, she would be gone, never to be next to him again.
He should have known, honestly, that the Dark Lord wouldn't have allowed him a girl like Asphodel. That the world wouldn't allow it. Regulus Black was alone and cold and charismatic, and anything that possibly would change anything about him had to be crumpled up and thrown out with the rest of the garbage.
But she wasn't garbage, and never would be. She was an untainted flower, stained only with him, with the blood on his hands. If he had only known before, if he had only seen the writing on the wall and left her sooner—maybe then he wouldn't be forced to do what he would have to do soon.
He felt an arm snake around his waist, and he sighed, burying his head in her shoulder as he threw all intentions of being cold and icy out the metaphorical window. He sighed into her skin.
This was not what Blacks were made for. Blacks were womanizers and money-makers, easy social butterflies who roamed the pureblood community with tact and gentility. They were not made to philosophize over deep matters and make up metaphors for... well, for anything.
Wasn't Sirius the bad Black?
"I'm afraid, Regulus."
Her words stood out against the drivel, and his head shot up, concerned as he searched her eyes for the source of her fear, heart clenching in his own private panic.
"Of what?"
"Of the rest of our lives. I know we've only just gotten out of school, but somehow I've got this horrible, depressing feeling that everything is about to change in a bad way. That my life is almost over... but I'm just not done yet, Regulus, I'm just not ready!" she began to cry, and Regulus drew her in to himself, clutching her tightly.
"I know you aren't ready... but sometimes you just have to be prepared for the worst," he said with a shrug, and she began to cry even harder.
"I'm sorry, that was probably the wrong thing to say, huh? I'm no good at this. What I meant was that... well, dammit, Asphodel, you just have to live in the moment, because you never know when something might...happen." His voice grew soft, and he shook his head. Her sobs shook the bed for a few more moments before they subsided, and he stroked her abnormally soft hair with a wistful hand.
"I love you, Regulus."
"I love you too, Asphodel. Now go to sleep."
"Okay," she said cutely, snuggling in closer to him, and he embraced her even tighter, taking in her warmth, her scent, her feel—everything that he knew would soon be gone. Her breath became even, telling him she was asleep, and he pushed his head deeper into the pillow, sighing as he closed his eyes.
Perhaps, if even in the midst of a situation like this, there could still be tender moments, there was still hope for him.
Regulus woke up the next morning, yawning as he opened his eyes blearily to... an empty bed? He panicked for a moment, all of the horrible fates that could have befallen Asphodel skipping through his head madly before a cacophony of clinking from the kitchen soothed his quick-beating heart.
He got out of bed slowly, legs dragging as he threw the covers back and rubbed his eyes. He staggered to the door, which he struggled to open for a few moments before finally succeeding.
"Asphodel, isn't it a little late for you to still be here? Not that I mind, of course, it's just tha—"
Regulus Black stopped in his tracks as he took in the scene before him. Asphodel was slumped across the kitchen table, a half-drunken cup of suspiciously off-colour coffee sitting surreptitiously next to her limp hand.
And there, putting away dishes in his kitchen, was Severus Snape.
"Asphodel? Asphodel..." Regulus walked up to her slowly, simultaneously afraid and anxious to find out what was wrong. He grabbed her hand and sighed in relief as he felt a slow pulse... but wait.
It was too slow.
"Snape... what have you done to her? What did you do, Snape, tell me before I wring your greasy neck! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Regulus said angrily, advancing on his housemate furiously.
"Saving your life," he said shortly, putting the last of the dishes away, looking remarkably unconcerned. "And hers," he added as an afterthought, giving the comatose girl on the table a long, scrutinizing look before staring out the window.
"How'd you save her life? Seems to me that she's practically DEAD!"
"She has been given The Draught of Living Death. I just slipped some into her coffee—don't worry your empty head, Regulus, she didn't notice a thing."
Regulus stared blankly at the gloom outside of the London townhouse, a fair analogy to the sorrow that was beginning to drift through and permeate his soul. He sat down heavily on the chair
"So that's it then. She's dead," he said without moving his head, but there was no answer. He felt fidgeting next to him, and turned to see an uncomfortable looking Snape looking at the floor. A small hope blossomed in Regulus, and he stood up quickly.
"There is an antidote," Snape said softly, shaking his head, and Regulus sat back down, his overworked mind trying to process all of the information.
"I sense a but coming," he said heavily, and Snape nodded.
"I'm not going to give it to you. Or her."
"WHAT?"
"I said I'm not going to give it to you. Are you so selfish that you did not think of the consequences for the girl if you failed to do the job? There are fates much, much worse than the quick, painless death you could have given her. You fool, did you really think you could continue carrying on like this, pretending that there is no war and that you are not on the wrong side? I just did you a favour-- you should be groveling at my feet!" Snape hissed quietly, and Regulus gave him a piercing look.
"Why are you helping me then, if you're so sure that this is the right thing to do?" he asked, and Severus said nothing, unwilling to say anything, and suddenly, Regulus knew.
"You're on the other side, aren't you. With Dumbledore and the rest of the mudblood-lovers."
It wasn't a question, and Snape sagged, defeated.
"I want to help." Snape coughed, spluttering in surprise. He looked at Regulus in disbelief, but the young man's face was steely.
"All... All right. You do understand how... how dangerous this will be for you, right?"
"Of course. I will accept whatever consequences befall me," he said blankly, letting the unspoken words hang in the air like a heavy winter blanket. I care for nothing without her.
"I will bring her to someone who will take her somewhere safe, somewhere unknown to even me and you, where she can sleep in peace. Then, when this war is over, I will give you the antidote. Then, and only then. Do you understand?" Snape said darkly, and Regulus nodded. He could wait for her forever, he was sure of it, even if the only place he could touch her was in his dreams, just knowing she would be safe was enough.
He gave a small smile as he brushed the sleeping girl's hair out of her face, and the small bud of hope that he had felt earlier began to blossom into a flower.
A beautiful, white, towering, Asphodel.
This is the truth that disappears like a lie,
Even if I spread my last wings, I can't change my fate,
As the lily blossom is short-lived, the pain never fades,
I could only love in my dreams.
A/N: I know I just said that this is a one shot, but I don't know... I feel like there's more to be said; after all, I meant for it to be sad, but I just couldn't help myself. I had to give Regulus some semblance of happiness. Anyway, who knows, maybe I'll write a second chapter and make that sad, anyway, please press that little blue button and REVIEW!!!!