Wrap me in a bolt of lightning

Send me on my way still smiling

Maybe that's the way I should go

Straight into the mouth of the unknown

January

Regulus is on the velvet sofa. He's trying to piece together what exactly happened. Because one moment, he's preparing for death and the next, he's choking up water in an undisclosed location –In the company of two unknown people.

He looks at the witch beside him. She's using transfigured gauze from unstained parchment to bandage his wounds. She has yet to say anything that may give him a clue as to exactly where he is. He can't help but note how gentile she's being as she cleans the cuts marrying his body. She's humming to herself, her brown eyes moving from one area to the next.

He turns his attention to the wizard. He's been haphazardly rummaging through a pile of old books like a mad man, sighing as he taps an odd looking quill between his fingers and the table. His hair is a mess, no doubt from constantly running his fingers through it in distress. Not that it was surprising. He would be in distress too, if some odd wizard that he didn't know randomly appeared in the middle of… well, whatever they were up to.

"This doesn't make any sense," the wizard grumbles, tossing the book in his hands to the side. A few loose pieces of parchment fly out as he grabs another.

"I don't think that's the immediate problem," the witch counters, tightening a bandage around Regulus's arm. He winces at the sharp pain that shoots through him. "Sorry," she apologies after noticing.

"Who are you?" He asks. Both of them look like they're around his age and most likely Hogwarts students as well.

"I'm Hermione Granger," the witch states simply.

"Theo Nott," the wizard mumbles in distaste, not bothering to look up.

"As in Thoros Nott?" He wasn't expecting that. Surely he would remember another Nott wandering around, the Sacred -28 was a small pool to begin with.

"He's my father. But I'm sure you already knew that."

"I…" Regulus knows the man, alright. Knew him far better than he cared to admit. He was vile, a monster. He'd seen Thoros do things, unimaginable things. Things you couldn't come up with, even in your worst nightmares. And this was his son? Regulus could only imagine what Theo was capable of, having a sire like that. To not have heard of Theo until now was strange, to say the least. It made Regulus wonder if there was a reason for his hidden existence. "I've seen him around."

Theo glances up from his reading material. With a calculating stare, he sneers, "Oh, I'm sure of that. I know who you are, Black." Regulus can feel the hostility rolling off him.

"Theo!" Hermione gasps.

Regulus feels her hands pull back, as if he's burning her. Resentment adorns her face, hands hovering above his forearm. No doubt she knows what it is, The Mark, it tends to stand out. The black outline defaces his otherwise pale skin, weighing him down like a curse. Odd, though, how it now looks far more faded than he can recall. More faded than it was just that very morning.

"I knew about that too."

"How do you know who I am?" Regulus has never felt this much out of sorts in his life. How is it that he knows about me, who I am? Yet, I've never seen him before in my life?

"Of course I do. Regulus Arcturus Black. You were, are, a Death Eater, possibly the youngest ever," Theo spits, " and you're supposed to be dead."

Hermione shifts uneasily on the cushions beside him. He can tell, by the way she's avoiding Theo's gaze, that she's just as uncomfortable with how this conversation is going as he is.

"You're Sirius' brother?" She breathes.

Originally, it seemed that she didn't know who he was. Not at first glance, anyway.

"You know Sirius?" He feels a wave of relief wash over him. Maybe there was hope to this situation after all.

"I did." He knows she's holding something back. Something important.

"You did? Has something happened?"

"You've missed a lot," Theo scoffs, "Just short of 20 years it would seem, by the looks of you."

"Years? Gods. Where am I?"

"We're at Hogwarts. Today is January 26th. It's 1997," Hermione explains, putting a hesitant hand on his shoulder. A kindness he's rarely ever known.

Regulus sits back, feeling ill as his heartbeat stammers. That's almost 18 years. How is that possible? The last thing he remembers was commanding Kreacher to take the locket, and destroy it. Then there was the thirst, that deathly thirst.

"Did it work?" He turns to Hermione for an answer, "Is he dead? Is the Dark Lord dead!?"

She jumps at his outburst, mouth quivering.

"Why do you care? Shouldn't you be more concerned with whether or not he succeeded?" Theo interjects, coming around to sit in the armchair, elbows resting on his knees. "Ifhe actually managed to reach his true goal?"

Regulus feels the intrigue in his gaze. He understood. Why would a Death Eater want the Dark Lord dead? He had a multitude of reasons. He was disgusted with himself for ever entertaining that man's ideals to begin with - especially now that he knew the price.

"Because when I joined, I was stupid. I've been tortured by the man himself. I've seen the way he deals with naysayers, with those he deems unworthy - I've been on both sides of his reign," He inhales deeply, containing his anger. He watches his knuckles turn white as he curls them into fists, "Fact is, I was trying to stop him- before all this."

"You defected?" Hermione considered in astonishment, folding both her hands over her mouth, eyes widening at his declaration.

"I did. You have no idea what he is, was capable of," Regulus sighs in a huff, wincing at the way the dark mark stands out on his skin. He hates himself for it. Hates himself for being so blind, so easily manipulated by those around him - his own family.

"What he is still capable of. He's alive, and he's amassing power again," Theo explains, his hand finding Hermione's in an easy grasp, "My father is among his supporters."

"After all this time? That monster is still around? How is that possible? I hid the one thing he needed to stay alive, and it should have been destroyed by now."

"What are you talking about?" Theo questions, a hard gaze trained on him, "What should have been destroyed?"

"The Dark Lord made a Horcrux."

The couple look at each other, like they're having a silent conversation. Regulus watches as they stand and move to the corner. He can make out some of their hushed whispers, unable to hear everything being said. But he does catch a few things:

"I know…"

Theo leans against the wall, arms crossed, looking down at her.

"Defected… count for something"

"Horcrux?"

"But… Sirius"

"Shite"

Hermione is the first to turn back to him, arms falling to her sides. "I'm going to go and see if I can get a few healing potions for you. Theo's going to fill you in." She turns back to Theo, giving him a quick peck on the lips before hesitantly walking away.

Theo moves back to the armchair. "So, Regulus. Let me spin you a tale - one that would make ol' Walburga roll in her grave."

"Mother's dead?" Regulus's heart rate picks up. Mother's gone? What about the rest of his family?

"…Shite." Theo closes his eyes with a wince, covering his mouth.

"What happened?"

"I… I'll get to that. My condolences." Theo fumbled to recover. "I guess we should start with… when you disappeared. When was that again?"

"March, umm… '79"

"Right, not too long before…" Theo is having issues grasping the words. He looks up to the workbench. Eyeing something curiously, he raises his hand and,—to Regulus' astonishment—wordlessly and wandlessly Accios over a large tome.

"Just how powerful are you?" Regulus gasped, eyes narrowing curiously at Theo. Thoros couldn't do that. Not that he knew of anyway. He was sure the elder would have shown off that ability whilst carrying out his wicked deeds.

Theo raised an eyebrow as he thumbed through the pages of the book now sitting in his lap, "That? That's nothing more than the result of someone who's spent too much time alone. Don't be paranoid. It causes premature wrinkles," He says as if it doesn't affect him.

Regulus scoffs, "Where I come from, you're either paranoid or you're dead."

Regulus was always one for a good story. As a child, he enjoyed his uncle Alphard's tales, regardless of how ridiculous they were. He never cared if those stories were real or fiction, but the tale Theo told was real. It made him wish this whole ordeal was nothing more than a dream, something sick and twisted concocted by his abused imagination.

Not only had his actions failed to affect Voldemort, but the fucker had actually managed to come back from the dead. And with the help of Peter Pettigrew of all people. That vermin that followed his brother, Potter, and Lupin around. He was supposed to be their friend.

In 1981, Sirius was charged and sentenced to Azkaban for the murder of Lily and James Potter. No trial was held in defence of his brother. The Potters left behind a son, barely a year old. Harry James Potter, The Chosen One. The one meant to bring down the Dark Lord, according to prophecy - how poetic.

In May of 1995, Voldemort rose from the grave. Not that anyone believed it until almost a year later. Not even a declaration from the Chosen One was enough to reach deaf ears.

His Mother was gone, Theo didn't know the details, just that it was sometime in 1985. His father was dead too, he'd passed a couple of months after Regulus had disappeared. Theo said there were rumours that his Mother had poisoned his Father, which didn't surprise. Both of his parents were gone, dead in the ground. Same for the rest of his family. Save for his three cousins, the sisters. Andromeda was alive and well with her husband, Ted, and their daughter, Nymphadora - who was now an Auror. Theo had yet to bring up Bella, though Regulus was certain she must be mad by now. Narcissa married the Malfoy heir and had a son, Draco, who grew up with Theo. No real surprise, it seemed the family ties were still intact. That hadn't changed. In all honesty, he hadn't put too much mind to the importance of those ties. From what he has seen, however, is their inability to branch away from each other. Family marrying family - inbred nonsense.

The more Theo speaks, the more one particular thing sticks out. "Where are you and Hermione in all this? You two are obviously together. If your father is Thoros, shouldn't you be under the same thumb as I was?"

Theo's mind appears to wander. His eyes glance everywhere but Regulus, "Thoros doesn't control me. I haven't seen or spoken to him since the summer holidays. I like to think he forgets about me altogether. It's easier that way." He paused a beat, chewing his bottom lip. "Hermione and I are together, you're correct about that. It's complicated though."

"Is she someone your parents don't approve of? Or perhaps it's the other way around?" Regulus presses. He's curious to know who her relations are, she doesn't look like any of the pureblood families he knows of. The name, Granger, isn't one he's heard of. Well, there was Hector Dogworth-Granger, but he was ancient, even 20 years ago. Fantastic potioneer though. Maybe she is a relative?

"No, it's not that - well, partially. My father would definitely tear her apart if he knew. He wouldn't even think twice. It's mainly because she's a Muggleborn and one of Potter's close friends."

"Oh."

So Theo's another Andromeda, a Pureblood involved with a person of 'lesser' blood status. Regulus remembered how hard his family came down on his cousin. Blew her off the bloody family tree for marrying Ted Tonks. He hasn't seen her since, "You're a blood traitor."

"Does it matter?" Theo challenges as his posture stiffens. "Because if that's going to be an issue, we might as well end this right here and now."

"No! That's not a problem, I'm just surprised. You said you grew up with Cissa's son, I assumed you thought like the rest of them." Every word of that was true. If Regulus really thought about it, his blood superiority came from his parents - from the Dark Lord himself. Now that he was starting to see how wrong they were, he couldn't care less about blood purity and the archaic traditions that went along with it.

Theo relaxed back into the chair, deflated by Regulus' words. Thank Merlin for that.

"Good, she gets enough bullshit from Draco and the rest of Slytherin. She doesn't need another person tearing her down just because of who her family is."

How awful that must be. To be given a gift, and then have the rest of your kind ridicule you for it. Not that the other side was any easier, and Regulus knew about being on the other side all too well. He's been held to impossible high standards by his family his whole life. Even more so, after Sirius left. Another one blown off that damned tree.

"And my brother?" He asks, "What about him? Hermione made it sound like he—" he's having trouble even saying the word, "that he was gone as well."

"It's best for Hermione to tell you about that. She was there, I wasn't. It's not my story to tell."

Regulus braced himself, the dread of anticipation weighing heavily on his mind. He glances over to the door, just waiting for that last bit of hope to be snuffed out.

I've said it so many times

I would change my ways, no never mind

God knows I tried

I'll always keep you inside

You healed my heart and my life

And you know I've tried

Call Me - Shinedown