Disclaimer: I do not own anything, except the plot.
A/N: Surprise, I guess. This is not beta-ed, so all grammatical errors are entirely mine.
Story Warnings: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, PTSD, Hermione is an Enigma (and Regulus is only soft for her), a tad slow burn-y
we don't need the memories
prologue
dagaz | it's always darkest before dawn
January 5, 1979
Regulus Black was impeccably dressed to die today.
This thought had consumed his mind all throughout breakfast. Not even Walburga's inane, shrill chattering that usually required utmost patience from him could not dispel whatever mood he had been in ever since he decided to sacrifice himself.
'Perhaps, death is not necessary?' a hopeful voice piped in his mind for the umpteenth time, and as usual, Regulus trampled whatever meager hope he has in his mind before it festered. He had no room for hesitations today. And really, what was the point of continuing to live in this hellhole if Voldemort would continue controlling him?
'No point in all of this bullshit, yes,' he told himself firmly. He pushed away thoughts of the people who would miss him once he dies—if someone would miss him, that is.
Perhaps it was the third bite from his toast when Regulus gave up nourishment altogether. He glanced at his mother, who still hadn't finished spewing tirades regarding the other, nonimportant Black family who'd continued questioning his position as the new Black heir.
"Yes, Mother, I agree to all of your lamentations," he primly said like the perfect Black son he was.
This fueled his mother's ranting more. Regulus merely gave her a tight smile and glanced at the quiet wizard sitting at the head of the table.
"May I be excused, Father?"
Orion Black looked over him in surprise. "Already?" he asked.
"I have to make some important purchases at Diagon Alley for the new semester," he smoothly excused, a picture of pure innocence on his face that did not match the brewing storm inside him.
"I believe some fresh air would do me some good," Walburga said, but Regulus was already shaking his head.
"No need to accompany me today, Mother," he said, reaching forward to daintily clutch onto Walburga's hand. "Think of all the unnecessary walks we must take. I'd rather you rest well here at home than come with me in such an overcrowded, filthy place."
His mother looked mollified, a look of utmost gratefulness in her eyes. "You've always been a sweet, sweet boy," she cooed, reaching forward to fondly pat his cheek. "I don't know if I've said this before, but I am eternally grateful that you are the Heir of the Noble and Ancient House of Black."
Regulus swallowed a snarky retort, tempted to point out that she never lets a day pass without saying those words to him. Instead, he gave her an indulgent smile. "Anything for you, my dear Mother," he drawled.
"My sweet, sweet boy," Walburga sighed once more. "Better you than that good-for-nothing older brother of yours!"
Upon the mention of Sirius, Walburga went on another godforsaken tirade to curse the very being of Sirius Black and Regulus automatically tuned her out again. At the mention of his brother, however, a twinge of guilt appeared in his heart.
Regulus Black was dressed impeccably to die today, and he wouldn't even be able to say goodbye to Sirius.
He shook away the regret and excused himself once more, this time able to successfully leave.
There was no room for 'what ifs' anymore. The plan had been in motion ever since he discovered Voldemort's sole weakness. He had been too busy formulating the plan to perfection with Kreacher he didn't have time to say goodbyes and make amends anymore.
'It doesn't matter,' he firmly told himself once he'd reached his room. 'It doesn't matter anymore as long as Voldemort will fucking die after all of this.'
He sat down at the edge of his bed and took that time to lazily gaze around his room. This had been his sanctuary for eighteen years, blocking all the chaos happening outside these four walls. It almost felt surreal that he wouldn't be able to come back to this safe haven after everything that would happen today.
"Master."
Regulus blinked, his mind focusing back on the present. His trusted house-elf, Kreacher, was standing a few paces away from his bed, an uncertain look in his tennis-ball eyes. His usually grumpy house-elf looked subdued today, almost terrified, and Regulus couldn't really blame him.
"I trust everything's going according to plan?"
Kreacher mutely nodded as he pulled out a necklace from the pocket of his pillowcase. The emerald 'S' twinkled in his dark room, and although it was the exact replica of Slytherin's locket, it still exuded a menacing aura. No wonder the Dark Lord chose this as the vessel that would house his horcrux.
"Very good," Regulus sighed, sauntering towards his dresser to pick up the letter he'd written to the bastard once he realized Regulus was able to discover his deepest, darkest secret.
"Master Regulus, Kreacher—"
"Please, Kreacher, spare me," the Black Heir grumbled, wearily looking at Kreacher. His house-elf started to cry, another startling thing that Kreacher had never done before. But then again, he couldn't really fault Kreacher when Regulus ordered him not to interfere once he'd made the swap and embraced his death.
"Kreacher apologizes, Master Regulus. Truly he does," the old house-elf sniffed.
Regulus sighed once more and grabbed the replica necklace from him. He tucked the letter inside the necklace and handed it back to Kreacher. His house-elf reverently placed the necklace back into his pocket, handling it as if it was the most precious thing in the world.
"It is time, I'm afraid," he said.
Kreacher looked like he wanted to protest more. Thankfully, he kept his woes to himself and grasped onto Regulus' hand for Side-Along.
The last thing he saw as he went to his death was the picture frame he had at his bedside, bearing the gaunt faces of a young Sirius and young Regulus.
-ooo-
The sound of loud waves crashing against the huge stone cliff greeted Regulus as he and Kreacher rematerialized outside the Crystal Cave. The whole place smelled strongly of salty air and something more—something menacing. Regulus lightly shivered from the cold, biting air and dark, residual magic combined, and directed Kreacher towards the entrance to the cave.
Wordlessly, Regulus lifted his hand and muttered a soft 'Diffindo'. Kreacher hissed when a huge gash appeared on his Master's hand, and he immediately flicked his finger to heal Regulus' wound once a drop of blood splattered on the stone floor.
The cliff lightly rumbled as an opening materialized. "Come," Regulus said, ushering Kreacher further. The stench of dark, residual magic was stronger inside, and this solidified Regulus' theory that he was in the right place. Searching for Voldemort's horcrux was a long and arduous affair. He'd sacrificed a lot of school nights just to finally land on this place. He just thanked all his Black ancestors for amassing a huge amount of treasures; paying for intel cost a fortune, which was left unnoticed by his parents because of how brimming the Black vaults were.
His eyes roamed around the dark cave, muttering a soft 'Lumos Maxima' to provide him some light, however meager it may be. Despite the bright orb illuminating the small island in the middle of the cave, darkness still enveloped all corners of the cave.
He shot a wary glance at the lake surrounding the basin. The water had an eerie, greenish glow and despite how hard he stared, he could not make out whatever creatures that lurked beneath. Regulus wondered how he was going to get to the basin and make the switch.
"Accio horcrux," he murmured. As expected, nothing happened. Regulus sighed and searched around to see any means to cross the other side.
"Master, Kreacher sees a chain," his house-elf whispered. Regulus followed his line of vision and true enough, large chains sat immobile on the banks of the lake.
Without being ordered, Kreacher was already grasping the chains and pulling with all of his might. Regulus helped without much thought and soon, a huge boat appeared. The whole boat also had the greenish glow the lake emits and it looked sturdy enough to hold both of them. Regulus tentatively climbed inside, Kreacher following suit.
Once both were settled, the boat rocked precariously before lurching towards the glowing basin.
As they neared the small dais, Regulus' heart thudded more wildly inside his ribcage. The residual magic grew thicker as they drew nearer and by the time they scrambled out of the boat, Regulus could barely breathe.
His eyes were wide, beholding the glowing basin. He peered inside but could not see any hint of the locket. He tried to dip his hand inside, but a sharp, stinging sensation prevented him from doing so. He scowled and tried spells to empty the basin, but none seemed to work.
"Kreacher believes the liquid must be transferred to the goblet," his house-elf offered, pointing at a shell-shaped goblet resting beside the basin.
Regulus tentatively grabbed the goblet and dipped it inside the basin. "You're right," he claimed in relief, lifting the goblet out of the basin. It was filled to the brim with the greenish liquid and Regulus could barely make out an outline of the necklace inside. He poured the liquid out of the goblet onto the ground, but try as he might, it never emptied.
"Evanesco," Regulus murmured, his wand tip pointed at the liquid. Still, the green potion didn't disappear.
'Of course,' he thought with a wry smile. Simple magic never worked in a cave designed by the Dark Lord himself. Having been under his mercy for months ever since he became one of the Branded, Regulus had some glimpse of how his sick mind works. He knew what must be done to reach for the horcrux. One look at Kreacher's face made him guess that Kreacher also had an inkling.
"Cheers, fucking bastard," he defiantly snarled, raising the goblet in a toast before tipping his head back. However, he was frozen into place and unable to proceed with drinking.
"Master Regulus, please, Kreacher begs you."
Big, fat tears had glistened in his house-elf's eyes once more. Kreacher was trembling like a leaf now, terrified beyond belief. He'd always been a little more intelligent than the other house-elves owned by the Black family. Regulus knew drinking this potion would spell trouble, and so does Kreacher.
"Remember what I ordered you to do, Kreacher," Regulus sternly reminded, a hard glint in his stormy eyes.
"Master Regulus—"
"Remember, Kreacher."
The poor house-elf choked out a sob and ended his incantation. "Kreacher must not interfere," he lamented.
"Kreacher must not interfere, yes," the wizard replied with a firm nod. After a pointed look at Kreacher, he was satisfied his house-elf would not stop him anymore. "No matter what happens, force me to finish the liquid, Kreacher. Promise me, Kreacher."
"Kreacher p-promises, Master Regulus," he cried. "Anything for Master Regulus."
Without any hesitations and further disruptions, Regulus emptied the goblet. The liquid slid down his throat, and distractedly, he thought it tasted sweet and tantalizing—something he did not expect the Dark Lord would brew to guard his precious horcrux.
For a moment, nothing happened. Regulus waited with bated breath for anything to happen as he wildly looked around, preparing himself for a battle that would surely cause his death.
He scooped the goblet back into the basin and was about to gulp down the potion once more when out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a shadow. Regulus stilled and slowly turned his eyes at the entrance of the cave. A hazy image of Walburga Black was standing tall and proud, her face twisted into an ugly sneer, as her eyes spitted fire and pierced directly into his eyes.
"Mother?" he asked, confused as to why she, of all people, was inside the cave.
"Where is your brother?" she snarled.
"Brother?" he echoed, his confusion increasing tenfold when after two blinks, Walburga was suddenly towering over him. Regulus gasped and took a few steps back, managing to knock off the goblet from his hand. He was unable to see Kreacher scurrying quickly to get the goblet.
"WHERE IS YOUR BROTHER?" she shrilly cried.
"I-I don't know," Regulus mumbled, falling onto his knees.
Beside him, Kreacher was crying for him to finish the liquid from the goblet. Regulus did not fight back, opening his mouth as Kreacher emptied the contents inside his mouth.
Blinking rapidly, Walburga grew clearer and more thunderous. "WHERE IS YOUR BROTHER?" she cried once more, reaching forward to land a sharp slap on his cheek.
"I don't know, I don't know, I swear," Regulus cried, crumpling down as the memory of her slap stung his cheeks once more.
"I'm right here, you bitch."
Regulus directed his pained eyes at the new person in the cave. Sirius looked fifteen once more, clad in that weird ensemble of Muggle and Wizard fashion decorated with red and gold that screamed Gryffindor. Something that would surely rile up their mother.
A small part of him whispered that everything that was happening was not real in the cave. He remembered this day, a memory still so vivid in his mind he sometimes dreamt about it.
"You good-for-nothing, ungrateful filth. How dare you address me as such!" Walburga shrilly retorted, throwing a particularly dark curse that Sirius had barely dodged.
"Mother, please. Please, stop, I beg you," Regulus cried, clutching tightly to Walburga. She effortlessly threw him away and Regulus felt fourteen once again—small and weak and helpless.
"Master please, one more. One more gulp please," Kreacher begged beside him. It took all of Regulus' willpower to tilt his head back and finish the liquid. Pain clouded his eyes as he tried to desperately stop his mother from hurting Sirius again. But it was too late. Like that day, he helplessly watched as a violet spell hit Sirius on his left shoulder. His older brother cried in pain and fell down to his knees. Tears of deep loathing and pain poured down from Sirius's eyes.
"I hate this family," fifteen-year-old Sirius spat. "I get up, every fucking day, and wished I have never been born in this family."
Walburga sputtered out a maniacal laugh. "You are the single, greatest mistake I have ever created," their mother harshly spat and Regulus could see how those words had pierced deeply into Sirius' heart.
"S-stop," Regulus cried, falling on all fours as he tried to reach for Sirius. But his brother was growing further and further away and Regulus couldn't do anything.
"This is the last one, Master, please. Kreacher promises."
Pain bloomed in his heart and Regulus adamantly refused. "No more," he cried. "No more, please."
"Kreacher cannot disobey Master Regulus' orders," his house-elf said. "Kreacher must force Master Regulus to finish the potion!"
His house-elf forced his mouth to open wide and hurriedly poured the liquid inside. Regulus sputtered in surprise and crumbled back on the stone-cold dais. The pain in his heart spread to every part of his body and it became unbearable to even breathe.
He slowly lifted his eyes, half-expecting to see the hateful gaze of his brother. To his surprise, both Walburga and Sirius were gone. He and Kreacher were alone once more, and the pain started to recede.
Regulus tentatively gazed at Kreacher, then to the basin housing the horcrux. Slytherin's necklace was now exposed, and all the liquid was now emptied.
"T-the switch, Kreacher," Regulus stuttered, feeling unbelievably bone-deep tired.
The pain and despair had completely disappeared now. From the corner of his eyes, he saw as Kreacher waddled quickly towards the basin to grab the horcrux and place the duplicate inside.
As Kreacher was pouring the Emerald Potion back inside the basin, Regulus suddenly felt an unquenchable thirst. "W-water," he rasped out, but Kreacher was too busy putting everything back in place to give the illusion it was never tampered with in the first place.
Regulus tried to unsuccessfully produce a jet of water from his wand. He looked around and hungrily glanced at the body of water surrounding the small dais. While Kreacher was busy, he crawled unhesitatingly towards the small lake and scooped a handful of water into his hands.
Before the cold water could even touch his lips, a skeleton arm shot up from the water and dragged him into the lake.
"MASTER!" was the last thing he heard when everything turned dark and murky.
Regulus could make out a lot of skeleton creatures one by one clambering onto each other to drag him further into the dark waters.
'Inferi,' he thought despite how muddled his brain was from the Emerald Potion. 'That bastard. Of course.'
The inferi were steadily growing in number and Regulus could feel his lungs already protesting for air. He closed his eyes and accepted his fate; any second now and all the life in him would be gone.
He had no energy in him to fight back. He could already feel his consciousness leaving him, and the last thing he wished for before the inevitable came was that Kreacher was able to successfully transport away, the horcrux in his possession.
But then… a sudden burst of blinding white light illuminated the whole lake. Regulus' eyes shot open in surprise, watching in confusion as the hungry inferi scurried away from him.
Through heavy-lidded eyes, head throbbing wildly that made everything around him hazy and distorted, Regulus was able to see a woman—so, so, so bright—with impossible curls framing her determined face.
'Am I dead?' he asked himself. The face of the woman was glowing from the spell she had created, and Regulus had a ridiculous thought he was looking at an angel. 'An angel?' The idea itself was laughable, but it was honestly the only thing his exhausted mind could think of. 'Why am I in heaven?'
Said angel dove into the dark waters and latched onto his arm. Consciousness was steadily seeping away from him and Regulus had no fight left in him to hold back. He allowed whoever this creature was to pull him out of the cold, murky waters.
His head resurfaced back, and Regulus hungrily devoured huge gulps of air while at the same time sputtering out the lake water and green potion combined.
Everything was a flurry to him by then. All he knew was that the stranger was desperately dragging him back onto the cold dais.
"We must leave. Now!" she commanded to Kreacher.
Regulus half-expected his house-elf to scoff at being ordered around by this stranger. But then, to his surprise, Kreacher wordlessly grabbed onto him and the strange woman before apparating them out of the cave.
They soon rematerialized in a forest near the Crystal Cave. Regulus collapsed on the green grass and retched out all the remaining cursed liquid he had drank a while ago. He still felt unbelievably thirsty and tired and confused.
'Am I dead?' he asked himself once again, his head buzzing from the excursion that had happened a while ago.
"The locket," the strange woman demanded. "Where is it?"
"T-the what?" he asked. He licked his dry lips and smacked them together. "Water, please. I need water."
The woman with impossible curls sighed and conjured a goblet in her hand. "Aguamenti," she grumbled, a small jet of water pouring out of her wand and into the cup.
Regulus embarrassingly did not wait for her to offer him the cup, as he eagerly snatched it away from her hand and greedily gulped its contents.
"The locket," she demanded once again.
The haze in his head was starting to lift now that they were out of that suffocating cave and his thirst was addressed. Regulus slowly lifted his grey eyes and stared at the woman, this time being able to fully look at her.
She looked worn and tired, her strange ensemble of clothes tattered and wet from the little swim she took back at the Cave. She looked like she'd gone through war, her brown eyes hardened with unmistakable determination. He distractedly noted that her left forearm was crusted with dried-up blood, but she did not seem to notice. His eyes however did not linger further at the wound as it landed on the shiny sword clutched on her right hand. The hilt was studded with rubies, illuminating the whole sword fully together with the meager forest light.
"Give me the locket," she persisted, outstretching her left hand.
Kreacher suddenly came into view and hid Regulus behind him. "Kreacher does not know of a locket," he defiantly cried.
The stranger expelled a huge sigh and threw Regulus a dark glare. "I do not know of a locket," he managed to say, slowly standing from the ground to give some semblance of control. The girl, likely seventeen or eighteen, looked intimidating with her wild hair and shiny sword, and Regulus, for the life of him, could still not wrap the idea that she was standing in front of him.
'I should be dead,' he thought, face paling as this thought occurred to him. 'I should be dead. I should not be here.'
He blinked in surprise when she gently forced Kreacher to step aside just so she could directly look into his eyes.
"I know that you stole Slytherin's locket from that glorified bastard because you knew it was a horcrux," she stated matter-of-factly, prompting him to lightly slacken his jaw in surprise. "And if you do not want me to toss you back into that Inferi-infested lake, you'd do as I say and just give me the damn locket!"
Regulus stared at her, honestly flummoxed with the fiery intensity in her brown eyes. There was something in her determined gaze that made him compelled to follow.
He slowly gazed back at Kreacher, who was shooting daggers at the stranger. "Kreacher," Regulus said. "Give the lady what she wants."
"But Master!"
"Do it," he sighed, barely grasping onto the last strength he had before collapsing completely.
Kreacher begrudgingly pulled out the locket from his pocket and offered it to the girl. She grabbed the necklace from the house-elf's hands before he could change his mind and didn't waste any time.
Regulus watched, wide-eyed, as she threw the locket on the ground. With all the might she could muster, she grasped the hilt of the sword with her two hands and lifted it above her head. She slashed the locket without hesitation, which then cracked in the middle.
He gasped and backpedaled as a dark cloud shot up from the destroyed locket. It formed an ugly image of a skull and Regulus almost gagged at how suffocating the dark magic was. But soon, it dissipated and he could properly breathe once more.
He rapidly blinked at the destroyed locket on the ground, then at the heaving woman who was still glaring darkly at the horcrux.
Unwittingly, Regulus was brought onto his knees. He felt utmost disbelief and fucking relief that despite how prepared he was this morning, he was still very much alive. He glanced at his very corporeal hands and at the destroyed locket; he could barely contain the mirth bursting inside his chest.
"One down, four more to go."
His momentary glee was drawn to a screeching halt as her words registered in his mind.
"Pardon?" he sputtered out, eyes wide as he watched the woman slowly approaching him.
The forest light was able to illuminate her in all her glory. Despite how tattered she looked, she still looked ferocious—'A lioness,' he thought—ready to pounce on anyone who'd get in her way.
"Hello, Regulus Black," she said, gaze hardening and silently commanding him not to break their eye contact. "My name is Hermione Granger. This may sound crazy, but I believe we'll be needing each other from now on."
A/N: Hi! It's been a while. I'm actually surprised myself hahaha.
This plot has been haunting me for months, but I didn't have the energy and enough brain cells to completely flesh it out. I had a 1 week mental break from all my hospital duties and went back to something that I love, hence this baby is born. I've really been meaning to write a Regulus/Hermione fic after HoTS (that ya'll been demanding hahaha) so I knew it's only a matter of time.
This fic will mostly be in Regulus's POV because why not? It'll be another time travelling trope because why the hell not? Some characters may be OOC, like maybe Hermione because she's being described through Regulus's perspective.
The outline for this story isn't done yet and I haven't found the time to finish the whole plot. I do have a vague idea of how this will end. The next chapters haven't been written too because I'm at work again and I don't have enough time to write again, so no daily updates from me, I guess.
Do tell me what you think! Hoping to post the next chapter soon, but no promises.