Fire. The world was on fire. Oh, how it burned!
It was funny, though, how small decisions could add up one by one into such a massive clusterfuck. How a person could go through life and experience so many things, and still turn into someone unrecognizable. How a madman could destroy everything on a simple whim.
And even so, Regulus Black had no one to blame but himself. He should've listened to his brother. Wishing was no good in one's dying moments, though, so he concentrated on the fire.
He didn't have much strength left, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. Once his flames died, the Inferi beyond would have a clear shot. There was no escape. A hysterical laugh bubbled up his throat; he was too young to die. Oh Salazar, save me, he thought desperately.
One breath… two breaths… three… and his protective circle flickered and faded. Regulus slumped down, defeated. There was nothing for it now but to make his peace with life and accept his fate. With that thought, he bowed his head and closed his eyes.
When a hand gripped the back of his shirt and yanked him backwards, Regulus involuntarily kicked out. Maybe he had some fight left in him after all, though what good it would do him, he didn't know. His arms flailed out wildly, and he turned his head to try to see. Inferi were all around, much too close for comfort, stretching out their hands toward him, shuffling and bumping each other, but they made no noise.
Regulus had never seen anything so disturbing in his life. The bodies were bloated and their skin a grayish color. Cloudy eyes roved unseeingly in rotting faces, and he shuddered before once again trying to twist out of the grip of his current assailant. The reanimated corpses made no noise except the squelching, sloshy sounds wet clothes make when they move. He cringed away from their reaching hands, wishing it was all over already.
The hand at his back tightened again before he was yanked once more, though this time… this time it was the familiar sensation of a Portkey. It wasn't long before his feet slammed back onto solid ground, and with his strength nearly entirely depleted, Regulus toppled backwards and didn't move.
"Don't you dare die on me now, Regulus Black!" The voice that broke through the fog in his mind was feminine, commanding, and just a touch desperate. Did he truly look that bad? Breathing was, admittedly, a bit difficult. And he was tired, so tired; his eyes refused his request to open. Small hands smoothed across his face, pushing his hair back. "I didn't come all this way for you to simply give up now! Do you hear me? You're going to be just fine."
The speaker withdrew her hands, presumably to fetch her wand out. He felt her tap his face in a couple places, then his hands. She muttered something else and was quiet for a short time. Something rustled and then he felt a glass rim at his lips. "Drink this," she pleaded, and for some inexplicable reason, despite everything his parents had taught him growing up, he parted his lips.
Immediately after swallowing, he felt the weakness leave his body. He opened his eyes to see a dark haired girl kneeling over him with a worried expression on her lovely face. Regulus didn't know what to say. 'Thank you for rescuing me' seemed a little dramatic. Plus, the fact that a girl had rescued him was a bit embarrassing.
"Are you ok?" she asked softly, breaking the silence. Her concern seemed genuine, but who was she? How had she found him? No one except Kreacher knew where he was, but she had somehow found out not only where he was, but how to get through the protections of the cave.
Not a single one of these questions passed his lips, nor an answer to her own question. He simply stared at her. Perhaps it was the adrenaline of not dying clouding his mind, but she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Her dark hair framed wide eyes, and the flush across her cheeks was particularly enticing. The genuine concern in her expression lowered his inhibitions further.
"Who are you?" he asked. His mother would have been appalled at his rudeness, but apparently his brain was still malfunctioning. Mercifully, she didn't look at him like he was addled.
"My name is Flora Carrow, and I'm here to help you kill the Dark Lord." Her voice was solid as steel, but her eyes sparkled like she knew Regulus was confused. And Salazar, was he. He could do nothing but stare at her for a long moment.
"Ok," he replied slowly, sitting up finally and rubbing his head. "I know I've just been through a near-death experience after drinking that horrible potion, and my wits aren't entirely about me right now, but I'm fairly sure there's no one in the Carrow family named Flora." His eyes narrowed at her suspiciously, but his gut told him that she was not a threat. Not to him, at least.
"Not yet, there's not," Flora agreed. "But that doesn't matter right now. What does matter is the Dark Lord. He must be destroyed, Regulus, or the entire world will burn with him." Her eyes were haunted as she looked at him. "He's changed, the Dark Lord. He's… he's not the same anymore. I don't think he's even human. I've come back to change all that."
Suddenly, Regulus understood. He held his fist out to her. "Then let's destroy him," he replied, and let the locket he still held slide down the chain to swing in front of her.