A rustling the bushed by my left foot gave Regulus a shock, and he backtracked several paces. He sighed in relief when a lone seagull flapped its wings in the darkness and headed for the steep cliffs up which he had just ascended.

'Lumos,' muttered Regulus. His wand-tip flared into light, and he took a cautious step forward. All his planning, all his research led to this point. Cautiously, he leant forward through the gloom. The wall of the cave he was expecting to see entered his line of vision, although it was much taller and more imposing. In his pocket, his fingers, although shaking a little in apprehension, tightened forcefully over his wand. He drew it out of his pocket, flicked it and thought open. Nonverbally, nothing happened. He sighed. This was what he had feared. He pulled up his left sleeve, exposing several inches of pale skin. He pointed his wand at himself, nonverbally tearing the skin. Blood gushed from it.

'Oops,' muttered Regulus, wiping his arm on the archway. It opened, a hole that grew bigger and bigger until the rock was barely there and he stepped through. His spell had been a bit excessive. He hadn't meant to draw that much blood, he must have been nervous. Tracing the large wound with his wand tip, the skin healed over, leaving a harsh-looking pink and white jagged scar there. Some of the pain left him. Carefully, Regulus picked his way across the cave, green, sickly colours tingeing the walls and throwing an eerie, ghostly light over everything.

He came to a halt next to the green lake. This was it, this was the tricky bit. He hoped to God that it would work, if not he had only one option; leave. And he couldn't bring himself to do that, he might lose his nerve. Besides, he had prepared himself for his fate now, and he didn't think he could manage that again. He took a deep breath and raised his wand.

'Accio!' he heard a whistling behind him, and he ducked just in time to avoid a knife burying itself in his neck. It clattered to the floor three feet behind him. He slowly turned and picked it up, grasping it in both hands. Now he had to hurry. A sense of urgency grasped him. He hoped desperately that the Ministry wouldn't track him down for about an hour. After that, he reckoned, it didn't matter if they found him; he would be dead by then anyway. He highly doubted that anybody would get in, and also knew that if they did, it was almost certain death for them, unless they had the good sense to get themselves out. That he couldn't help. He hurried to the edge of the lake, and reached around his consciousness. This was the tricky bit. He had to use Occulemency to close his mind to the Dark Lord, but open it to find the hidden…ah! One hand remained on the knife, while the other tugged the chain into visibility. On the end of it came a small boat, which Regulus quickly magicked into the green water. He lost no time in sweeping himself into it. Without direction, it chugged towards the island in the middle of the lake. He saw the dead, white hands and limbs of Inferi lurking just beneath the surface. A greenish glow emitted from a stone basin on a platform in the middle. A silver goblet was hanging in mid-air beside it. He knew what he had to do. The boat stayed where he left it. He knew that this was the last moment of living human sanity he would ever experience. He thought of Christina chang, the only girl he had loved in his short life, and for such a small amount of time. She had been in ravenclaw, and so sat at the table opposite him in the dining hall. Too bad he only figured that out after he had left Hogwarts for good. And now he would never see her again. The last time he had seen her in the Leaky Cauldron, she had been telling everyone who would listen that she wanted to have a daughter called cho, after a heroine in some book she had read. Regulus hoped that cho, if she ever existed, was as wonderful as her mother. He took a breath, and then sheathed the knife and stowed it in the pocket of his robes. He closed both hands over the goblet and pierced the surface of the potion in the stone basin. The cup filled, and Regulus put it to his lips.

'Sirius…' he whispered, the word echoing in the dark.

He was being chased by a Boggart through a forest…gulp. A patronus that wasn't his was hunting him down in the darkness…refill. He stood by, unable to move, as the Dark Lord tortured his brother…gulp…his mother…refill…his father…he turned his wand on him…he watched himself writing on the ground…refill. An army of centaurs sped after him in the Forbidden Forest…gulp…he was free-falling, his broom snapped…gulp…he crunched into the ground…refill…his bones were on fire…gulp. The potion was more than half gone. He just knew he couldn't stop. Bitten by vampire…gulp…disemboweled by a troll…gulp…torn to pieces by a dragon…refill…encased in fire…gulp. Now he could see the bottom. Barely conscious, he reached a hand into the basin and closed his hand around what was in the bottom, skin burning as it came in contact with the potion. He drew it out, and stabbed it with the knife he had stolen. Slipping into unconsciousness, he pulled a shaking hand out of his pocket, grasping a worthless metal locket. He aimed in into the now empty basin, and by what he could only assume was a lucky chance, clattered to the bottom. Green liquid began to fill the stone bowl, turning his vision blurred as he watched.

Crack. Blinding light. Unbearable pain. And then it was gone, the Horcrux, the locket, the knife, he didn't know whether the Dark Lord could feel it or not, and he didn't care at all, about anything anymore, And he was falling, blindly, welcoming death as a release from his pain. And, almost as if in slow motion, his wand rolled out from his pocket, and he fell to his knees, keeled over and slid into the green, murky water. He floated for a moment, on the surface, before hungry, dead faces and hands dragged him under the water. Forever.