A/N
Written for Chaser 3 on Holyhead Harpies for Round 3 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.
Prompt: The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole: Write about someone who ignores an important warning.
Optional Prompts: (theme) isolation C3, (season) winter C3, (object) locket C3
Thanks to MissyAndTheDocs for beta-ing!
TW: Character Death
Word Count: 1632
Regulus's Friend
His robes flowing loosely behind him, Regulus strode across the throne room seconds after receiving his master's call. As he approached the stone throne, he kneeled into a bow. His forearm still burned and his knees shook as they pressed against the cold stone floor.
"Regulus," acknowledged Voldemort in his traditional silky tone, "I require your house-elf, Kreacher, for a mission tonight."
Regulus felt his heart lurch - he was quite fond of the Black family house-elf. Kreacher had always been there for him, ever since an incident in his youth. Sure, unlike Sirius, he wasn't a complete disappointment in the eyes of Orion and Walburga Black, but that didn't mean they were proud of him. Regulus's longest punishment occurred the summer after his third year, when he had failed to cast Avada Kedavra on a dog as his parents had instructed him. They saw his inability to end the dog's life as weakness and betrayal. As a result, he had been restricted to his room for one month, isolated from any human contact. Only Kreacher had beenallowed to bring him meals, yet the grumpy elf had been so much more in his period of isolation. Sirius hadn't even attempted to sneak in, and Regulus had found himself bored out of mind - he didn't even have his wand. If not for Kreachers' company, Regulus probably would've gone insane.
However, as much as he wished to protect his devotedly loyal house-elf, he remembered the Dark Lord's warning. It had been delivered the fateful day he pledged his loyalty to the Dark Lord: question or betray the Dark Lord and you die. Regulus bit back his tongue despite his desire to protect the only friend he could truly trust, but he knew he had to obey his master. "Yes My Lord. Kreacher!" he called out, summoning the elf.
Kreacher appeared with a soft pop, "Yes, Master Regulus. What do you need of Kreacher?"
Regulus looked at the tiny house-elf, "You are to accompany the Dark Lord tonight and provide assistance to any tasks that he requests of you. Once he is done, you are to immediately return to me."
Regulus kept his instructions specific so that the Dark Lord could not take advantage of his elf, adding a silent "Be Careful" under his breath. "That is all I require of you today, Regulus," hissed Voldemort, which Regulus took as his signal to Disapparate.
Regulus blinked - where was he? This was definitely not Grimmauld Place. He stood on a gravel pathway, lined on both sides with trees lightly covered in soft snow. The path was mostly clear - it was not cold enough yet for the snow to stick on the ground. Regulus's hand reached into his pocket, grasping for the comfort of his Hawthorne wand.
A young child shot by, cutting off his path, and Regulus was about to scold him when an oddly dressed middle-aged woman apologized, chasing after her child. Muggles, he realized. He must be somewhere in muggle London. With his mind occupied with worry for Kreacher, he'd been too distracted to apparate properly away from Voldemort.
Shivering slightly, Regulus strolled down the path. He could easily Apparate home, but he was here already and he held no love for Grimmauld Place other than Kreacher's presence. He had only begun to realize that the way Death Eaters raised their children was not normal, not right. The once charming Tom Riddle that had enchanted a young Regulus had become a maniac hellbent on killing all Muggles. He held no loyalty to those Death Eaters who pledged their lives to him - he saw them only as sacrificial pawns on a chessboard.
Snow began to fall as Regulus continued to make his way down the winding pathway. Soft white dots lazily drifted towards the ground. A couple fell onto his robe, each different and beautiful in its own way. Regulus quickly brushed them off. How was Kreacher? What was the task the Dark Lord had given him? The Dark Lord had not given a time to expect his elf back, and Regulus knew not to ask. When had the charming boy become someone he feared so much? And most of all, how had he been so stupid to give his life away to someone else? He was a pureblood, and beyond that, a Black, and the House of Black bowed to none. How had his parents let him continue this cycle of service so dishonorable to such a noble name?
Yet, despite all his doubts, Regulus didn't think he could ever leave the Dark Lord's service. He feared the Dark Lord's wrath too much; even thinking such treacherous thoughts drove bolts of fear in his body - he could hear Voldemort's velvet voice delivering the warning in his head.
Casting a quick Tempus after making sure no Muggles were around, Regulus decided it was time to return to the musty house. It had been an hour, and he had to be there for Kreacher's return. Spinning on his heel, he took one last look at the falling snow, visualized his childhood house and disappeared with a crack.
Regulus appeared in his bedroom - Kreacher would know to find him here. He stripped off his robe, throwing it into a pile by his bed. The house was empty - Regulus lived here alone; Sirius had wanted nothing to do with the senior Blacks (the feeling had been mutual) or the house, and was probably off with the Potter and Lupin boy. The periods of loneliness from his childhood punishments now enveloped his life; while Regulus was free to come and go as he wished, he had no real friends other than Kreacher and nowhere to go. He had isolated himself from all his Hogwarts friends after joining the Dark Lords' service, and he could trust none of the Slytherins in his year who had become Death Eaters. They would throw him to the snake's pit just to gain the Dark Lords' favor. They saw his surname as a threat; despite the status it gave him, it also painted a target on his back.
Regulus checked the time again, where was Kreacher? He was going to ask the elf to fetch him a glass of water but realized he couldn't, so he reluctantly made his way towards the kitchens.
As he passed through the foyer on his way to the kitchen, he noticed a dark lump in the middle. He cast a Lumos, and a dull light illuminated the tip of his wand. His eyes ran over the limp figure...his heart dropped.
It was Kreacher.
He let out an anguished scream as he ran towards the body. His heart dropped, and he felt his breath escape him. Falling to his knees, he gently picked up Kreacher's body into his arms. Cradling his beloved elf, he sobbed quietly, searching for any signs of life. As tears streamed down his cheeks, he finally felt Kreacher's body shift in his arms. A jolt rushed through his heart. Regulus wasn't one to express emotions often - he never had really been allowed to, but he had let his one friend get almost killled he had lost his last friend to the Dark Lord. "Kreacher, Kreacher, Kreacher," Regulus repeated desperately in between sobs, "What did that monster do to you?"
The usually determined elf looked so weak and helpless in his arms, but Regulus was able to feel a weak heartbeat. "Let's get you some help" he murmured, before quickly Disapparating to his trusted healer.
Regulus remained by Kreachers' bedside for the week following as he recovered. Kreacher didn't even wake until the third day, but Regulus refused to leave. Kreacher had never let Regulus feel alone, and he would be damned if Kreacher woke up alone.
Kreacher could finally talk on the fifth day, but it took too much energy for him to form the words. It wasn't until the seventh day that Kreacher was able to tell Regulus what happened.
Kreacher weakly explained how he had been taken to a cave with a lake filled with Inferi. He was then used to row across the lake to an island and forced to drink a potion from a basin that made him weak while being attacked by Inferi. Voldemort had explained how at the bottom of the basin is a locket, but Kreacher had been unable to reach the locket. Satisfied, Voldemort had left him to die.
Seeing Kreacher's pain made Regulus resolve to himself that he was going to get that locket, no matter what it cost. Even if it meant betraying the warning given to him years ago.
Kreacher sobbed as he forced his master, his friend, to swallow the potion that had almost killed him weeks ago. His master was strong, but Kreacher knew the effects of the potion. But, he could not disobey his master's orders. So he continued his efforts for Regulus to finish the potion. Regulus finally reached the locket and handed it over to him, "Go. Bring it home. Destroy it. Don't tell any of our family about it."
Kreacher could hear the defeat in Regulus's voice, and see it in Regulus's eyes. "Master… let me help you," he begged - Regulus was the only one who could tolerate him and who actually respected him.
Kreacher stifled his tears when Regulus repeated his instruction, but firmer. "Destroy the locket, Kreacher," Regulus instructed. Kreacher could tell he was trying to stay strong, but the potion had made his master so weak.
Kreacher took one final look at Regulus before popping away with the locket.
When he returned to the lake, Regulus's body was gone. Kreacher sat at the edge of the dreary lake, resolving to fulfill his master's last wish. Once that was completed, Kreacher would see Master Regulus again.