A/N: I wanted to post this for May 2nd, the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, but as I only realized that this anniversary was coming up two days ago, I did not give myself enough time to write. As it is, this chapter is shorter than I would like it to be. The chapters following this one should be much longer. I'm definitely committed to finishing this story now, I love Regulus too much to leave it be.
TW: references to child abuse
Monday, June 30, 1997
There exists only a thin line between love and hate, and no man blurred that line for Harry more than Albus Dumbledore. When he was younger, Harry had seen Dumbledore as a benevolent grandfather, a figure to look up to and emulate.
He didn't think that anymore.
Now, seeing Dumbledore thrash around under the influence of whatever potion he'd consumed, all Harry could feel for the man was a detached sense of dread. They still had to get back across the lake, return to Hogwarts, and figure out exactly what the hell to do with the locket in his pocket. A tall order for any man, and Harry wasn't feeling like much of a man at the moment.
Panicking slightly, Harry scrambled to the edge of the island and dipped Dumbledore's conjured goblet into the murky water. If he could get Dumbledore coherent again, maybe everything would be fine, maybe they would make it out without any additional trouble.
As soon as the goblet's lip touched the water, the surface of the entire lake shuddered. Ripples and tiny waves made themselves known and Harry's heart plummeted. Voldemort had been smart, was smart, and had known that forcing any would-be thieves to the lake's edge would afford him the perfect opportunity to set up the last of his defenses.
Particularly violent waves pounded against the island from somewhere off to Harry's right and Harry scrabbled back toward the stone pillar, one clammy hand gripping his wand tight. It was difficult to make out much of anything going on beneath the surface of the water, but Harry thought he could see something swimming towards the island.
This was it, this was how Harry met his end; not at the hands of Voldemort or one of his crazed Death Eaters, not under the violent swings of a belt, but because of a meddling old man and his machinations. No one else knew where they were, knew what they were doing. Harry would die alongside his mentor and the rest of the world would be left to wonder what had become of their Saviour and the Lord of the Light.
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but with a whimper.
Though his heart — still somewhere near his feet — was gripped with terror, Harry stood up on curiously steady legs and waited for death.
Ripples formed as the dark shape breached the water, revealing itself to be a human head followed by a tall, lanky body hauling itself onto the stone island.
Not with a bang...
The curse on Harry's lips died when the strange figure looked up, pushing straggly black hair behind its ears. Striking grey eyes met Harry's own.
But with a whimper.
Not a curse, but a wheezing gasp left Harry's mouth as a shard of ice lodged itself in his chest cavity. Sirius. This man looked like a younger version of Sirius, like the pictures Harry had seen in his photo album of his parents' wedding day. Perhaps only a year or two older than Harry himself. This man was not laughing though, and his eyes were not smiling. He looked just as shocked as Harry felt.
More violent splashing from the lake shocked the pair out of their frozen states. More heads rose from the lake, but unlike the man they were made of mere bone, eye sockets empty and unseeing. Shoulders, too, followed the heads, joining with rib cages as the skeletons grew taller. Harry had never seen one in person, but he knew exactly what these creatures were:
Inferi.
An army of Inferi had surrounded the island, slogging through the water and lurching closer with every step they took.
"James, what the fuck are you waiting for?" the stranger bellowed, "Move!"
Harry did not know what was going on, didn't know who this stranger was or why he was calling him James, but there were bigger problems at hand than a confused, dripping wet teenager who seemed to be friendly. He hadn't hexed Harry on sight at the very least.
Instinctively, Harry and the man put their backs to each other and started defending separate sides of the island. Dumbledore had been forgotten, even though small whimpers sounded from his lips every few seconds.
"Petrificus Totalus! Incarcerous! Locomotor Mortis!" Harry shouted. He ran through his repertoire of spells quickly, observing what worked best against the monsters. Those bound with magic or ropes stumbled and fell beneath the waves once more, taking out several of its brethren if Harry was lucky. Impedimenta only served to slow them down for a few seconds. It wasn't nearly enough, the horde of the dead simply kept tottering along with single-minded determination.
"Ignis Flagellum!" the other man cried out. A red glow filled the cavern, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of crackling flames. A great many splashes occurred at once and the Sirius look-alike exclaimed in triumph.
Harry felt incredibly stupid; he had forgotten Dumbledore's advice about using fire against creatures of the cold and dark!
"Incendio!" A jet of fire issued from the tip of Harry's wand and the Inferius that it hit fell back, writhing in agony. A perverse laugh escaped through Harry's clenched lips, cold adrenaline pounding through his veins.
Harry cast the spell again, intently focusing on maintaining a constant stream of flames. He slashed his wand through the air and a good eleven or twelve Inferi got caught in its path and retreated, various limbs smoking. Even more Inferi sunk beneath the water again, seemingly deciding that it wasn't worth it to face the flames.
"We've got to get to the boat!" Harry shouted, not daring to turn his back on the skeletons. Their number had been greatly reduced, but a few dozen were still dodging Harry's fire and making progress. Slowly, but surely, they were being penned in.
"And how do you propose we do that?" Sirius' doppelganger shouted back. His voice sounded cultured, every syllable pronounced with precision. It reminded Harry uncomfortably of Draco Malfoy.
"I've no bloody clue," Harry admitted, snapping his jet of fire towards a particularly stubborn Inferius who had tried to grab his ankle.
Just then, a wall of fire suddenly erupted from the water, separating Harry from the rest of the Inferi. Gaping, Harry ended his own fire spell and cautiously turned around. The wall was apparently not a wall; it was a ring of fire encircling the island and driving the Inferi away.
Dumbledore was standing now, leaning against the pillar upon which the stone basin rested.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day.
The stranger lowered his wand and turned around as well, narrowed eyes assessing the situation. The ring of fire had been Dumbledore's doing, even now the flames reached toward the ceiling and merrily danced upon the water.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
"I believe any discussion...can wait until...we are out of here," Dumbledore murmured weakly.
Harry nodded and double checked that the locket was securely in his pocket before rushing to the boat. It was not burned or otherwise damaged, so Harry gestured for the unknown man to climb in first.
"Here, lean on me, Professor," said Harry as he wrapped one arm around Dumbledore's waist and helped him walk toward the boat. He was not worried about the 'one adult wizard' requirement anymore; he did not know if the tall wizard was over seventeen, and even if he was, they were now relatively safe from the Inferi.
Harry and Dumbledore settled into the boat, the ring of fire moving with them as they set off back across the lake.
On the other side, Harry and the other wizard worked together to help Dumbledore out of the boat and onto solid ground again. Dumbledore directed them to the archway and Harry smeared some blood from a cut he had obtained from the Inferi on the wall. Soon enough, the trio was standing on an outcropping of rock facing the frigid seawater, hungrily breathing in the fresh air.
"Alright," Harry panted, looking at the man who had likely saved his life, "Just who the hell are you?"
The newcomer glared defiantly, distaste written all over his features. "I'm not in the mood for one of your pranks, James. I'm Regulus Black, as you very well know. Let's just get out of here, and then you can explain what was going through your tiny skull when you decided to steal a Horcrux."
Regulus Black?
A/N: The poems quoted in this chapter, in order of appearance, are "The Hollow Men" by T.S. Eliot and "Do not go gentle into that good night" by Dylan Thomas.
Obligatory link to my Discord server; you can discuss my fics, get pings when I update, and generally cause mayhem here: discord . gg / UKJ9ehW7dZ