A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Prompts are below. :)

Biosciences Task 11: Write about a trip over water.

Word Count: 1290

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.

Enjoy!

Life is cruel.

That was his first thought when he opened his eyes. He wished he could close them again. He wanted to sleep—forever. But there was something keeping him tethered to this place, dragging out his existence until… until…

He wasn't sure. What was he now? He was different than he wanted to be. Something had happened when he had been up there, so long ago, and now he was caught between life and death.

Life is cruel, he thought again. It wouldn't release him from its clutches.

But he was awake now, and he needed to find what had woken him. He peered through the murky depths, towards the surface. It didn't take long for him to spot the disturbance in the water—he could see the belly of a boat, gliding towards the island in the middle of the lake, making ripples as it gently parted the water before it.

It didn't just stir the water, though. It stirred something deep within him.

He let himself rise through the water, but didn't break the surface—he should never break the surface, not unless living flesh broke through from the other side. He wasn't sure why he knew that; something ingrained deep within him told him so. He rose, getting closer to the boat. He wanted to see who was there. That was important, for some reason.

There. A shock of black hair and glasses, a defiant set to the shoulders that was supposed to give off the impression of bravery… Then across from him, an older man with blue eyes and half-moon spectacles. He knew these men.

The younger one was—was—Potter. James Potter. But what was he doing here?

He shook his head to clear it of its muddled thoughts. He was missing something important. He disliked James Potter, but why?

He reached up a pale hand, staring the way it shone in the dim light. His fingers were an inch from the surface. He frowned. He felt… strange. Thoughts bubbled up to the front of his mind, which was something they hadn't done in—he didn't know how long it had been. He remembered… he remembered being on the other side, fingers hovering above the water, curious but smart enough to realize that the magic in the cave was dangerous…

He blinked. He had not thought about the cave in a long time. The water had been his world for so long, it was strange to think that there was more out there. That he had ever been more than this vessel of magic and thought.

But he had been. He was Regulus Black.

Suddenly, it all came rushing back, as though a block had been removed from his memory. Voldemort, his parents, the Horcruxes—the cave. He looked around in panic, dark hair swirling in the water as he whipped his head around, slowly realizing that he was surrounded by Inferi. How had he gotten there? Then the memories came forward—Kreacher, the locket, and the hands, the hands pulling him under—

Grey eyes locked onto the dark shape above him. The island. He needed to escape, to warn Potter that there was nothing there. He began swimmingly frantically towards it, his muscles beginning to spasm as his body realized too late that it had no oxygen—

He had nearly reached the shore when a cup came plunging down from above, and just like that, the spell was broken.

Below Regulus, the others were waking. Their movements were sluggish but sure, and he knew that Potter wasn't safe. But he needed air. He needed to breathe.

The Horcrux hunt wasn't over, and he needed to tell them what he knew. There were lives at stake. His hand broke the surface.

Then he was rocketing backwards, pulled back down below by a nameless corpse. It struck Regulus then that he should be dead. And if he wasn't dead… he had to be…

The thought was too horrifying.

His vision was blackening. Potter and the other man—Dumbledore—were climbing back into the boat, sailing away from the island, the one Regulus hated and was doomed to reside beside. Swollen bodies were pushing and shoving for a chance to touch the boat, to make Potter and the old headmaster join their ranks. But that wasn't what Regulus was thinking of—if they left, he was stuck here. He froze. It occurred to him that this could be his end. But, he reasoned, better dead than trapped for eternity.

Oops. A woman's voice he'd never heard before let out a high-pitched giggle. You're a little too aware, aren't you? Swim down. All that fear... it will leave if you come to me.

Terror gripped him. He didn't know if magic could have a human manifestation, but that voice was inhumane and purely dark.

He abandoned his scramble to get to the island and began to cut through the water, towards what he hoped could be his salvation. He head bobbed above the surface and he took desperate breaths, but it didn't help. He wanted to breathe, but was completely unable to, because… because, he realized, he was dead.

No? Don't make me force you, Regulus. I don't want to do that.

Let me go! He screamed, but he didn't know if the sound was real or not. Was this in his head? What sort of hell was this?

I can't do that, now can I?

He shook as he swam, but there was no escape. Please, he begged. Please.

A whisper was his only response. Obliviate.

A calm suddenly washed over him, and he lost the need to breathe. The boat was disappearing, but that didn't matter. Every muscle relaxed, and he felt himself slowly slip deeper into the depths. The farther down he went, the more he lost himself.

Eventually, he settled at the bottom with the others. He closed his eyes. He could rest now. He'd wake again when someone else disturbed his tomb.

But no one ever would.

Kreacher was shaking beside him, muttering about the darkness in the cave. Regulus didn't need him to point it out—he'd felt it, too.

"We'll be out soon, Kreacher," he murmured. "We just need to get the locket."

Kreacher shook his head wildly, his large ears flapping. "Master Regulus must not go! He will die, they will come for Master Regulus—"

Regulus frowned. "Who will come, Kreacher?"

The elf's answer was a whisper. "The guardians of this place."

Regulus frowned. Kreacher had mentioned such guardians before, but he wouldn't elaborate. Regulus suspected that the elf didn't know exactly what creatures were watching this place, which led him to believe that there was some very dark magic here, indeed.

He climbed into the boat that Kreacher hesitantly explained how to beckon, his lifelong servant at his side.

The boat lurched forward and began to move. The youngest Black put a hand on Kreacher's shoulder. "Thank you, Kreacher. You have served me well."

Kreacher bowed his head, but he didn't respond. He kept glancing nervously at the water, so Regulus peered into it. He couldn't see very far beneath—it was too murky—but there was something captivating about it all the same. It was as though untold mysteries were just beneath the surface; Regulus had always loved pursuing those.

His hand drifted towards the water until the tips of his fingers hovered just above the surface. He pulled away, though. He had a job to do.

The boat hit the shore of the island in the middle of the lake, and Regulus helped Kreacher climb out of the boat. He walked through the mist towards the basin, steeling himself for the horrors his friend had described.

He didn't know then that he'd soon become another one of the water's secrets.

A/N:

Writing Club:

Disney Challenge: Characters 6. Zazu — Write about being kept prisoner.

Angel's Arcade: 6. Marin — (setting) island, (word) gentle, (emotion) relaxed

Bex's Basement: 13. Gary Ridgway — Write a fic set on or near water

Alphabetti Spaghetti: Obliviate

Fortnightly Challenge:

Sophie's Smut (Or Not): 13. Spasm

Birthday Bash: 1. "Oops."

Insane House Challenge: 998. (first line) Life is cruel.