When next he was aware, his arms were held firmly, as he hung between the Lestrange brothers. Rudolphus gave him a look of grim satisfaction, glaring down his hawklike nose. Rabastan didn't meet his eyes, and Severus wouldn't seek solace there. The only thing that mattered was the Dark Lord, who stood before him with death in his eyes.

"Please, my lord, I beg you." He kept his voice steady, despite the desperation implied by his plea. His master wouldn't be satisfied by anything less than breaking him, and he must satisfy that need if he was to live. "I didn't know, I swear to you."

"You dare to deny it?" The Dark Lord stepped forward, wand in hand, and his rage was boundless. With each word, he slashed his wand, and the magic flew towards him in a jagged flash of light. "You will pay for your arrogance!"

Severus cried out as the magic sliced into him, carving through cloth to cut the skin beneath. Blood welled to the surface and each cut was an agony, carrying the burn of his master's anger. He sagged between his captors, and then the Dark Lord was in his head.

... They lay beneath a willow tree at the lake's edge, hidden by the hanging branches that trailed into the water. Light filtered through leaves, reflected by softly lapping water, to dance across their bodies. Dancing shadows, tinged faintly green: the in-between color of his eyes ... His head reeled from the chaos of the quidditch celebration, yet it was worth it to see that shining, triumphant face and glimpse the secret smile meant only for him, which promised so much more to come ... All around him, his classmates laughed and called to one another, celebrating their final day at Hogwarts. The world that opened before them at last, but Severus could think only of his absent friend ... Fear clenched his heart, but he would rescue Regulus. He had no plan, no strategy, but he couldn't leave him to suffer ... It wasn't the fear that mattered in the end, it was the truth that could no longer be denied. And he said it again, desperate to be heard. I love you ...

A shudder rippled through him as his master jerked out of his memories. The Dark Lord shoved, and he fell backwards, as his captors released him. Severus collapsed onto the floor, making no attempt to rise. He wept then, too desolate to be ashamed.

With a sound of disgust, the Dark Lord pulled as far away as possible.

"He knows nothing," his master spat out, as if clearing a lingering foulness from his throat. "Whatever Regulus has done, he's done it to this fool too. His memories tell me nothing."

Severus took no notice of their leaving. He knew only the hollowness inside. The boy he'd known, the man he loved: lost to him forever. Regulus was gone, and he had nothing left but empty memories.

He was alone.

*/*

Severus had no idea how much time passed. Each moment slumped by, as empty and inexorable as the last. But his body couldn't sustain itself in such a state, and eventually he slept, and knew no more.

He woke slowly, Regulus' scent teasing his nostrils and haunting his memories. Fine linen slid against his skin and he stretched out his hand, instinctively reaching. And found nothing. Awareness came flooding back, and Severus cried out, coming fully awake. He pushed up onto his elbows to find himself in Regulus' bed.

A pang of anguish went through him, and he clutched at the sheets with their lying echo of his scent. He tasted bile and gagged, but nothing came up. His throat constricted, and he coughed, the sound ragged and painful. Senara had left a pitcher of water by his bedside, and he grabbed for it. His hands shook badly, but he managed to get some into the glass and took a desperate gulp. The cool liquid felt like fire against his ravaged throat, and he coughed, spluttering.

But the liquid soothed his throat, and he sat up, looking for something to latch onto. Someone had moved him and left the pitcher full, but he was otherwise abandoned. The window showed only the dimness of twilight, and its thin, weak light left the room in darkness. Without Regulus, the room was cold and empty.

"Lumos."

He whispered the word and a wavering light flickered into existence, casting the room into stark relief. The sharp-edged shadows shifted as he moved, and he hurried to light the oil lamp instead. The yellow aura of the lamp was a relief, but nothing could dispel the sense of wrongness he had in being here now, alone. He'd grown accustomed to these rooms, a deep sense of familiarity that let him move in the dark and find his place within them by instinct, but they didn't belong to him. Now, he felt like an intruder, and the rumpled sheets where he'd lain evidence of his invasion.

Severus pulled up the sheet, tucking the edges underneath the mattress. He ran his hand across the fabric again and again, until the surface was perfectly smooth. The pillow too bore the imprint of his head, and he shook it out violently, replacing it once the hollowed indentation was gone. Severus stood back and examined the bed, but he'd banished all trace of himself. When he came back, Regulus wouldn't be able to tell Severus had been here without him.

His eyes stung and Severus turned away, going blindly away from the bed. The room was oppressively silent, a taunting reminder. Regulus wasn't coming back.

Severus pulled open a drawer, digging through clothes that still held his scent. Regulus was gone, but he would've left a message, wouldn't he? They had so much history between them; there had to have been some clue he could leave safely. Something the others would dismiss, meant for him. Regulus was gone, but he would've told Severus how to follow him so they could be together again. It had to be hidden here.

There was nothing hidden amid the clothes, and he moved to the desk. Every scrap of parchment held the opportunity for a secret phrase that would tell him what to do, where to go next. But the elegant loops of Regulus' careful handwriting held no secrets. The familiarity of each fragment teased him with false comfort, and his vision began to blur, the letters running together.

Then, at last, he found it. Rolled into a dusty corner, as if it had fallen there, discarded. A crumpled piece of parchment, which read only 'To Severus.' The ink had splattered, marring the otherwise perfect writing, but it was otherwise identical to the tag which had adorned his present so many months ago.

The secret carrier. Imprinted with a shared memory, that only they two could open.

Hope flared in him like a beacon, and Severus fumbled with his robes, reaching for the small silver ball he kept hidden there always. It fell into his hand, and his heart beat faster. The object was heavier than usual, as if it was made of lead, and Severus knew it was a mark of what it held within, weighed down with the secrets it carried. He sat down cross-legged on the floor by the bed to consider the silver ball. In his desperation, he had difficulty narrowing the memory enough to trigger the device, and he failed repeatedly to unlock it.

With a frustrated sound, he focused on clearing his mind first. He slowed his breathing, concentrating on the pattern. In and out, slow and steady. His eyes closed, and he saw only the emptiness of the void, as each exhalation carried with it the tumult of emotions that kept him from his goal. He stayed like this for several minutes, focusing on the clarity of the void, until he thought of nothing else. Only then, with his mind suspended in stillness, did he reach again for the memory.

In the darkness under the sheltering arms of the forest's edge, those muted eyes were as dark as his own. The night air was crisp and cold, but the shiver that ran through him was not caused by the autumn air, but by the confused delight that ran through him at the touch of Regulus' lips on his own. He knew this should feel wrong, fought desperately against the sensation that he knew could not be right, no matter how much it thrilled him. But he'd been wrong about so many other things, had learned so much since he had come to learn magic in a place where it wasn't a sin. Couldn't he be wrong about this too?

Part of him wanted to pull away. But the larger part could think only of the beauty of this boy. Whose pale skin shone in shadowed darkness, whose eyes reflected the mysteries of moonlight. How could he think this wrong? Then Regulus smiled, and he didn't care. Severus kissed him back, awkward and eager. Pressed him back against the trunk of the ash tree, and his hands trembled with fear and delight. Right or wrong, he didn't care. This was what mattered.

With a flare of magic in his palm, the seal dissolved and the secret carrier fell open in his hand. He opened his eyes, and saw a precisely folded piece of parchment tucked into one half, and the photograph behind it. Retrieving the parchment with trembling hands, he carefully unfolded it and began to read.

My Dearest Severus,

I've learned our master's plan, and I must stop him. This secret is too dangerous to burden you with, for I fear even your skills could not keep this hidden from him. I, who lack your talent, could not stay to have it ripped from me. I see no way out.

Remember your promise, and see to the downfall of the Dark Lord. I make this sacrifice knowing it will not be in vain, for you will see this through to the end.

I'm sorry to leave you to finish this alone.

I regret nothing, except that I could not stay by your side. You have always had my love, and I've never been prouder of you than in this last moment. Though I must leave you, it's the thought of your bravery and your love that will sustain me to my bitter end. I am afraid, but your love gives me the courage to do what I must do, for the salvation of us all.

Forgive me.

All my love,

Regulus

His vision blurred with tears and his fingers tightened, clinging on to all that was left to him of Regulus. It was not enough, and he crumpled the parchment into a ball and shoved it back into the secret carrier..

The idiot. They could have found a way, they would have figured out some way to destroy this... this secret plan of the Dark Lord's, whatever it was. Regulus didn't have to-

Damn it. Severus could've protected him. If he'd found a way to make him stay.

The bloody fool. Irrational, impulsive, ignorant fool. Rushing off to get himself killed when they could've figured it out together, if he'd only waited. Should've been a Gryffindor with his idiot brother, and then he'd never have ended up in this mess. Severus would never have given up like that. He'd never 'sacrifice' himself in some grand gesture of bloody heroism.

He snapped the two halves together, sealing the crumpled letter inside where he'd never have to look at it again. He stuffed it into his pocket, and slammed his hand into the wall. It wasn't enough and he took up the water pitcher, hurling it across the room to shatter. Darkened spatters marked the impact, and water ran in rivulets down the wall. Crystal shards glistened everywhere, scattered across the ruins of Regulus' room. They shone from scattered linens and discarded clothes, dagger sharp and wet with tears.