for once

"-and they all lived happily ever after..."

--

Nobody is coming.

Regulus has to get that into his mind. Nobody is coming after him.

He is always the victim in the stories. The other protagonists invade his stories like they do his life. They become words printed in fine black lettering on book pages and either take the parts of courageous heroes swooping down to save him, or inhuman villains taking attempt to ruin him, to tarnish his name or life. At other times, Regulus is the side character, the audience who watches, silently, from below and cheers at the end of the story because the princess has waken up from her hundred-year-long sleep or the king realizes in time he is marrying the wrong youthful maiden and throws her out.

-

He is five, in one of these stories. An orange kitty mews, dangling helplessly over the side of Number 11's roof. He stands there, unable to help, just stands there and watches the kitten claw uselessly at the shingles. He feels as if he is stuck up there on that roof, too.

Bella comes by, sneering at him. "What are you doing, staring at a Muggle's cat?"

With a flick of her wand, Bella sends the cat sprawling toward the ground.

Regulus cries out, and Andi comes flying up the stairs just as the feline disappears from view.

"What is it?"

"Kitty - Bella - fell-" is all he can manage, but Andromeda understands perfectly.

"Accio Cat!"

Up flies the orange kitty, covered in brambles and leaves, but perfectly all right.

"See?" Andromeda says, holding up the kitten, "she's okay. Kitties can land easily on the ground. I'm going to take her outside now, before your Mummy sees, okay?"

"Okay," Regulus replies obediently, sucking his thumb, and gazing at his older cousin. He can't help but notice how fifteen-year-old Andromeda's eyes glow with an almost – noble - light, even as an owl flies past with a letter and drops at his aunt and uncle's feet. Even as the four parents are loud, very loud in talking (and Regulus just wants to cover his ears and hide in a corner.) Much nobler than his Mummy and Daddy, who are said to be noble, he reasons. He hopes one day a knight in shiny armour (or something like that) will sweep her off her feet and take care of her, the way knights do with pretty princesses in the books hidden in her room.

-

This one is so much more blurred than the first, although it was later - much later. Mulciber casually invites him one night to his first duel. "Malfoy and the guys are taking down a couple third-years a notch, you coming?"

Twelve-year-old Regulus shrugs, and lets his friend lead him to the trophy room.

A whirl of fists greets him at the door and he struggles against the firm hold on the front of his robe, trying to push away the many hands pummeling at his face, his chest, his stomach. His lips whiten from their tautness, and he concentrates hard but sees nothing but blurs of skin forcing against him, the black of robes (and some he's not sure come from robes), the silver of the trophies far, far away, and small lines of bright red he's certain isn't blood but the badge of the robes (Gryffindors?). He closes his eyes and prays for it to stop; it is nothing, nothing like the only other duel he's ever seen, when he and Sirius sneaked to the tavern a couple of years ago and watched two drunk wizards contest each other. Dueling was with wands and not fists, but that's Gryff-gryffindors f-f-for you...

He feels solid skin collide with his closed mouth, and, opening his eyes, he spits out a mouthful of blood - it's pure blood, Mother would be most displeased - a loud "What the fuck!" and then the world drifts into shades of the deepest black…

Someone slaps his face sharply, over and over again, and it hurts, hurts so much he opens his eyes, only to find his brother glaring back at him in the darkened hallway.

"What were you fucking thinking?" Sirius whispers harshly, then turns and leaves.

Regulus looks after the retreating dark figure as he feels around his mouth. A couple of teeth have been knocked out; the blood trickles down his pale chin eerily, and he stumbles his way to the hospital wing, mumbling a "tripped down the stairs" to a doubtful-looking Madam Pomfrey; the many bruises give him away.

-

He thinks he's losing his mind, that the long stressful days at school are finally getting to him – the difficult homework he's not catching up on, the constant letters from Bella and Rabastan and Lucius and the rest of the lot, inviting him to go flying with them (but he's certain there's more than just flying.) He's almost hit rock bottom, and the dark circles around his eyes show it.

On his way from dinner (alone – Mulciber has detention, Jugson's left to 'go flying' with the lot, and he has no idea whatsoever where Wilkes might be), out of his pocket drops a bottle of Polyjuice Potion – that came with Bella's last letter – onto the ground with a loud thud and rolls away. He doesn't bother running after it, but after a moment's thought, he realises what would happen if anyone else found the illegal potion rolling about in the Great Hall, he looks toward the way it had gone – only to discover a girl – a prefect – smiling Alice Diggory (Gryffindor, unacceptable) as she hands the bottle to him.

There are no words exchanged between them, only an I won't tell in her smile.

-

Every time he raises his wand, it's for Him – the Dark Lord – it's for cleansing the magical world like his parents want him to, like all the Blacks want him to. It's fuck heroism it's nothing sort of rebellion, but all he gets out of being a Death Eater is numbness and fear. No pride, no satisfaction, nothing.

Still, he lies to himself, and pretends this is his big breakaway. This is his happy ending; this is all he's ever wanted.

Only his dreams don't lie to him. Dreams never lie.

--

No one is coming after him this time, to save him from the unspeakable creatures that lurk beneath the murky waters, from this crystal-clear fate he is heading towards.

"M-master?" Kreacher stutters nervously, "This is the place."
They have approached a rocklike flat surface, a little island in the midst of nowhere; the boat rocks back and forth - an eerie, last lullaby - and he vaguely remembers a younger Andromeda peering down at him, rocking his cradle.

"Kreacher. You remember what I said before." he says in a voice that is not his.

"Y-yes, Master," Kreacher answers, shaking from head to toe. "But, Master, Kreacher does not see why Master must drink the potion. K-kreacher would be ha-happy to drink the-the potion for-for Ma-master."

He gives the elf a long look. "You know my orders, Kreacher."

There is no goodbye, no adoring words to the last being he sees, as he turns to the cauldron in the middle of the rock.

He grabs the goblet and plunges it into the cauldron, then raises it to his white lips.

To Sirius.

He gulps it down, and it is ice - no, fire - no, ice - icy blades, a million Cruciatus curses.

Shaking, he scoops another glassful.

To Andi.

He does this methodically, as Crucios and boulders and lightning strike him, over and over again. The original scenery is replaced by blurring images: the cat falling, people screaming -tortured - and all this time, Bella's mad laughter rings in his ears, cackling away as red and green lights flash past the face of the Muggle, the Muggle who'd gotten in his way a fortnight ago, the Dark Lord smiling inharmoniously at Sirius's friend - what was his name? Peter? - who, one moment bows down at him and kisses the hem of His robes, and the next writhes on the floor, clearly in pain, lips tightened to a sickish yellow colour, and lastly, her round face smiling down at him.

To Alice.

Cold jerks on the collar of his robes, in the form of fingers; his scream is lost in hell's waters.

For once, there is no happy ending, pretend or not.


a/n: Yay, this is finally posted! Many thanks to Gaby-Black for beta-ing it several times. And to cupid-painted-blind,this somewhat came up after reading your fabulous fic Stasis. Any apologies if it's too similar. :) Also, it's written for The Fluffy Bunny Challenge from the HPFC forum.

this above ficlet is dedicated to Estella, using her requests - Regulus and fairy tales, and for her constant commenting on my somewhat neglected entries. :) Love you!

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