Little lion man

It was a particularly beautiful summer day, or maybe it wasn't. Maybe he simply saw beauty in mundane things because he knew he wouldn't be able to appreciate them for long. It was a funny feeling the one he had. It was sickening, too. It started in the pit of his stomach and went all the way to his throat, making breathing a little more challenging than usual.

He spent that morning organizing his bedroom, for people surely were going to enter there to find hints about his whereabouts. They would all enter to a flawlessly set stage. All the notes he had taken about Horcruxes were burnt, and the books that mentioned them had vanished. In the desk there were letters from his Slytherin friends, pictures with fellow Death Eaters, and his remaining books were mostly about quidditch and blood-purity. The emerald and silver walls still had the newspaper cuttings Regulus had collected prior to becoming a Death Eater, from when he was fascinated, obsessed even, with Voldemort. Now he couldn't even stare at him in the moving newspaper picture without feeling fear and disgust. It was a perfect room for a respectable pureblood young wizard as himself. However, there was one thing that still needed to be removed: the golden locket hidden underneath the silver pillow.

He took a piece of parchment and wrote a message he had been planning for many days:

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

He thought his own fate was, in a way, poetic justice. He, too, had committed unforgivable crimes. Out of stupidity, greed and pride he had praised a deluded wizard, answered to his demands and fallen willingly into the deep waters of the Dark Arts.

As planned, late that evening his parents went off to visit some old acquaintances of theirs, the Fawleys. An arranged marriage between him and their daughter was being negotiated. Hesper Fawley, despite being a charming pureblood lady, didn't meet Walburga's expectations, as she had been sorted into Hufflepuff. Not as disappointing or dishonourable as Gryffindor, but still not enough for her son. After all, he was the last heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, or at least the last one that counted.

Walburga kissed her son goodbye, like she would normally do, while Regulus secretly wished for that embrace to last forever. Once again, he noticed ordinary petty things such as the strong fragrance of mint blended with citruses from the perfume his mother wore; he also noticed, as his father patted his shoulder, that he could feel the large gold ring he displayed on his ring finger, the one he had always wanted to inherit.

"Kreacher." Regulus called for his house-elf as he took the locket containing the folded message out of his pocket.

The short creature emerged from the small hidden den. He was wearing an old green pillowcase as a dress and was scruffy, per usual. His big eyes gave away his cheerful spirit. He wasn't merry around many others. In fact, only his two dearests masters could bring him such instant joy. To serve the House of Black until the very end was all Kreacher wished for.

"We are going tonight." His bat-like ears instantly fell "Now."

He wasn't expecting it. He really was not. Denial seemed to work just as good as a memory charm but, just like one, it couldn't alter reality. Some days prior to that night, Regulus had told him they would go together to that cave; he would then replace the locket and return back home. Only him.

"Master, maybe if you reconsider—"

"I've already told you, Kreacher. It's the only way." As always, his voice was polite and soft. It resembled his father's, but whenever Orion talked to Kreacher his tone was either demanding or patronizing.

"Here's the locket. As soon as you can, switch it and leave, please." He handed the Black's heirloom and tried giving an encouraging smile to his little friend, but that only made the gleam of sadness in his eyes more apparent.

Regulus grabbed Kreacher's hand. Most wizards would have made their house-elf get hold of a piece of the clothes they were wearing rather than have direct contact with such lesser beings. Master Regulus wasn't like them. His big warm hand embraced the bony one as Kreacher's arm was extended practically all the way up. The elf couldn't help but remember when Regulus was just as tall as him. That sweet little boy had grown into a handsome man, and now his head barely reached above his knee. How he wished to be hanged on the wall along his honourable relatives, then he wouldn't have to follow such atrocious orders. It no longer mattered, for they had already disapparated.

A loud crack echoed inside the crystal cave as they apparated into the small island made of flat rock, surrounded by the lake. Twisted, dark and cold, just like him. Back when Regulus was a first year student at Hogwarts, the Slytherin dungeon-like common room frighten him so much he would find himself standing there in his nightmares. In the real world, the windows in the dungeon look out into the depths of the Black Lake. In his visions, however, they looked out into the black deep waters of death. He would wake up as the glasses shattered and the darkness clutched him. Standing there felt like entering a distorted version of one of those dreams.

The light from Regulus' wand was not enough to break through the obscure dusk, and the green light shinning from the pedestal right by him didn't help much. Kreacher tiptoed besides the stone; his big round eyes looked into the basin filled with emerald green potion.

"Here it is, Master. This is the potion he made Kreacher drink. The locket is underneath."

Silent fell between them again. The house-elf kneeled and picked up the crystal goblet he had been forced to drink from. His thin arms shivered in fright. The memories were too lively. As Regulus eyed the potion inside the basin he took a deep breath and his whole body relax. Although he was still fearful, he had already accepted what was to come. He took the goblet from Kreacher's grip and filled it.

"Kreacher, you have to make sure I drink it all. After I'm done, switch the lockets and go back home immediately and destroy the real one. No one can know about this, not even Mother" Said Regulus.

At that moment Kreacher realized Regulus wouldn't make him drink the potion. No, kind-hearted people like his Master were righteous until the very end.

"NO." Kreacher held on tightly the young man's leg and wept, "P-please, Master Regulus! Let Kreacher drink the potion! Kreacher and his Master can return together, don't abandon Kreacher! How would his Mistress feel when she finds out what has happened? Kreacher begs –" He was so overwhelmed his words were no longer comprehensible. The wizard drooped to his knees besides Kreacher and gently stroked his back.

"Everything is going to be alright. You have to trust me, Kreacher… I need you to do this for me. I know it's the hardest thing I've ever asked you to do, and I'm sorry. But if we don't do this worst things will happen."

Few seconds after, the elf nodded and rubbed his teary eyes with his hands. How could he deny his Master's pleas? Even though he tried, the tenderness with which he spoke eliminated any chance of reconsideration. It was a pleasure to serve the bravest wizard of them all, and he would obey his Master until the very end. Regulus helped Kreacher stand up and repositioned himself next to the basin.

Regulus raised the goblet to his lips. He first felt the fire and while he fell down he saw red eyes staring back at him. The pain was so intense he couldn't move, he could only scream as the bastard laughed. Faces appeared, blood too. The stabbing fire grew stronger, his parents screamed next to him. Sirius apparently shared their same fortune. Every time he finally died it started all over again. Why had they forsaken him?

Kreacher closed his bloodshot eyes as a trembling Regulus begged for death. His sweaty face had turned red, purple even, while the grip of his hand made his knuckles white. Kreacher knew what he had to do. He snapped his fingers and the goblet went to the basin to refill itself. Softly, he lifted the head of his beloved Master. While Regulus implored for mercy, the elf replied with words of encouragement. The hallucinations were too realistic for Regulus to reason the words the elf spoke, but he tried nonetheless. Fire, blood and screams. Those bloody red eyes. Kreacher opened his mouth and filled it with the emerald liquid. Over and over again.

Finally, when he swallowed the last drop the screams stopped. Everything was quiet once more and, as the shinning green potion had disappeared, the cave was even darker than before. Whilst Regulus was still shivering on the floor, Kreacher hurried into the pedestal and switched the lockets. Instead of returning home, he decided to wait. He hoped for a new order, maybe the pain had made him forget his plans, or maybe in this oblivious state he asked to return home. So he decided to wait beside him. He knew that staying meant disobedience, but any future punishment he would inflict to himself would be worthy if Regulus returned home.

While the laying figure rose from the floor, his eyes grew bigger and his bat-like ears lifted a little. Resting his hands on his knees, Regulus lifted his head and stared at Kreacher. The house-elf gave a loud cry as he saw his master's beautiful grey eyes, but something wasn't quite right. Time froze as Regulus looked away with a sadden expression. He stared at the water. Once he reached the edge of the rock, he stretched his arm into the still black water and before he could touch the surface hands pulled him in.

-C'est fini -

AN: In honour of one of my favourite character from JK Rowling's books, I present you this one-shot.

To be completely honest, I don't know how to feel about it. I first intended to save Regulus, and I had pretty much the whole plot designed with many interesting twists. But then I found 'beauty' in this particular moment of the story, so I decided to write about how I pictured that eventful day to have happened. Obviously, there are some discrepancies between Kreacher's tale in the book and this one-shot.

Hope you all enjoyed it and, if you feel like it, please review.

Thank you for reading!