Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin

And I said hello Satan

I believe it is time to go

Me and the devil walkin' side by side

Me and the devil walking side by side

December 26th, 1979

"Let's go over the plan one more time." Theya laid her palms flat on the Haven's two person dining table, leaning her weight forward to frown at the expert copy of Salazar Slytherin's locket.

"We've already been over it a dozen times," Regulus took a seat in one of the chairs and ran a hand over his face. "If I have to hear it again, my ears are going to bleed. It's not that complicated: get in, get out, don't get killed."

"Let's not talk about getting killed right now," Ivy said tensely, arms folded across her chest. She stood in front of the widow, early morning sunlight glowing around her silhouette and reminding him for the millionth time of just how beautiful she was. "One more time, then we go."

"Fine, fine," Regulus sighed.

"Kreacher Apparates us into the cave," Theya said slowly. "No one goes near the water and everyone stays close in case we need a quick getaway. No exceptions. Ivy drinks the potion-"

"I still think it should be me," Regulus grumbled, eyeing the unpolished goblet on the table. "I'm the one who has experience resisting powerful potions."

"If anything, it should be me," Theya retorted. "The potion dragged Kreacher through disturbing memories, right? I've got next to none of those and the two of you have… well, a lot."

"We drew sticks," Ivy reminded them irritably. "I'm doing it."

"I know, I know," Theya lifted a hand from the table to wave her off. "Anyhow, Ivy drinks the potion. Regulus, you'll keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't look at the Horcrux. The last thing we need is Ivy going into a trance while we're there. I'll keep an eye on the water. The second the potion is gone, we exchange the lockets and Disapparate with Kreacher."

"No matter where we are in the process," Ivy added. "If the Inferi are triggered, we go to Kreacher immediately. We can always come back if we need to; we're not taking any unnecessary risks. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Theya straightened, looking deep in thought.

"Anything else?" Regulus glanced between her and his wife.

The golden-haired witch chewed her lip. "Think the Invisibility Cloak would be helpful?"

"Dunno," Ivy's silver eyes were intent on the locket replicate. "Maybe."

"I don't think so," Regulus shook his head. "We'll only have a few metres of room on the island; if Inferi swarm from all directions, I can't imagine it'd be anything other than a hindrance."

"And if we lost such a valuable item…" Theya sighed. "You're right, we'd best save that for another time."

"I think we're ready then, yeah?" He looked between the two witches.

"I suppose so," Ivy said reluctantly.

Taking the fake locket in hand, Regulus slung the heavy thing around his neck and got to his feet. In silence, he looked over their trio for any last minute changes. They were dressed as lightly as possible, making them look like Muggles. Trousers, sweaters, and athletic shoes were all they wore, as robes and satchels were decidedly too grabbable.

Examining Theya, he noticed that her face was hard and set. Shoulders thrown back almost defiantly, her golden hair had been twisted into a tightly secured bun atop her head. Although she was of rather small stature compared to Regulus and Ivy, her hazel eyes reflected a determination that would frighten the most fearsome of folk.

Drawing his gaze to Ivy, he found quite the opposite. Her white hair was similarly piled atop her head, but she was shaking ever so slightly. Nervousness was not an emotion he was used to seeing on his wife. Fearful silver eyes darted between himself and Theya, leading him to know exactly what she was thinking: Please don't die.

"We won't," he assured her.

Theya looked up at him, then at Ivy. "He's right. We won't."

"You'd better not." Her voice was tight and she withdrew her wand from up her sleeve with trembling fingers. "Wands at the ready, then."

He drew his blackthorn wand, while Theya grabbed the goblet from the table and drew hers as well.

Regulus took a deep breath. "Kreacher!"

The foursome landed on an isle of smooth rock in the centre of a lake. The island was exactly as Regulus found it every other time he'd visited; small, with only a few metres of walkable room, and entirely clear aside from a pedestal. Atop the plinth was a stone basin giving off a bright, emerald green light that illuminated their surroundings somewhat. The darkness of the cavern was thick, blacker than black. The water made no sound, as it was entirely still, creating the misleading illusion of a solid, glassy surface.

"Lumos!" Theya dicatated.

Her words echoed off the walls of the cave and he winced. Voices felt strange in such an unnatural place. He may not be an Omen of Death like his wife, but even the dimmest of people would be keenly aware that this cavern reeked of wrongness - reeked of death.

Kreacher gave a shudder from beside him.

"I can hear it," Ivy whispered. "The Horcrux. It's calling me."

"Here," Regulus grabbed hold of her elbow and began to guide her to the basin. "Keep your eyes averted, just in case."

Ivy abided by his instructions as they approached the pedestal, Theya and Kreacher staying close as they went. Regulus peered into the basin at the phosphorescent potion, while his wife held out her hand, keeping her face turned away from the light. Theya silently passed Ivy the goblet, eyes trained intently upon the surrounding waters.

His white-haired witch didn't waste a second.

Gaze still averted, she plunged the unpolished goblet into the basin and quickly brought it to her lips. He watched as she gulped down the contents, not even coming up for air until she'd emptied the receptacle. She was quick to repeat the motion and took a deep breath before draining the goblet once more, though Regulus swore she was moving slower than the first time. Once she finished the second serving and reached for more, she began to pant, as though she'd held her breath for far longer than she actually had. As the third goblet full of emerald potion made its way down her throat, her face became noticeably whiter. Midway through the drink, the wand in her other hand clattered to the floor, wedging itself between the ground and the pedestal. The hand she held the goblet with began to shake violently, but she swallowed what was left.

One look in the basin told him that the contents had only been fourthed. By his guess, she would need to drink nine more times to reach the bottom.

Ivy held the goblet out towards the stone basin, evidently meaning to scoop another serving out. But at the last second, her legs gave way beneath her body and she slumped against the plinth.

The goblet rolled right out of her hand, headed for the lake.

Regulus dove for it, chest slamming into the hard, dark rock, as the wind knocked itself out of his lungs. The receptacle rolled off the edge of the isle and his fingers closed around the neck of the goblet a mere centimetre before it would've touched the water.

Snatching it back, he scrambled away from the edge to gape at the still water, wand in one hand and the goblet in his other. He waited breathlessly for several moments, heart thrashing against his ribcage, until he was certain the Inferi weren't about to swarm them.

Heaving a sigh of relief, he crawled past Theya and Kreacher -who had moved closer to the stone basin, ready to make a quick getaway- to Ivy, who was slouched against the pedestal. Her eyes were closed, head lolled forward, and her face twitched as though she were in the middle of a nightmare.

"My love," Regulus took her face gently in his hands. "Ivy?"

"No more…" She groaned. "No more…"

"Pour it down her throat," Theya said stiffly.

Regulus paused. "I can't-"

"If you don't do it, I will," her hazel eyes flashed in the low light. "I hate it just as much as you do, but she knew what she was getting herself into. Kreacher was fine afterwards, she'll be fine too."

"But-"

"Don't argue with me, just make her drink. We need to get this done. Those things could crawl out of the water at any moment. Make her. Now."

"I can't…" Ivy panted. "No more…"

Kreacher cringed, as though recalling his own experience with the emerald potion.

"Alright," Regulus said tightly, putting away his wand for the time being.

Getting to his feet, he filled the goblet once more, then crouched. Tilting Ivy's head back, he opened her mouth, facing little resistance as he did so. He poured the liquid down her throat, and although she sputtered a bit at first, she drank it.

Her body gave a great shudder once it was down. "I don't want… Must stop… Pain… Terrible… Terrible… Pain…" His wife released a whimper. "No more…"

"Theya," Regulus looked back at her reluctantly.

"Go on," she snapped back.

Pursing his lips, he scooped more potion into the goblet and repeated the motion of holding her head back and opening her mouth. This time, she made a feeble attempt at clenching her jaw closed, but nevertheless, he poured the fifth drink down her throat.

Ivy swallowed it, unwilling as she was.

A moment later, she released a terrible scream - a scream that bounced off the walls of the cave and echoed horribly. The sound sent a knife right through Regulus. Even Theya jolted, casting an agonised look over her shoulder before she went back to monitoring the waters.

"No," the white-haired witch moaned miserably. "Don't make me… Terrible pain… I don't want it… No more… No, no, no, no, no…"

"I know, my love." Regulus swallowed the emotion lodged in his throat and refilled the goblet again. "But you must."

"How much longer must Master Regulus hurt Mistress Ivy?" Kreacher croaked, approaching him at the stone basin. "Kreacher does not enjoy watching."

His throat went dry. "Neither do I, Kreacher. I'm trying to be as quick as possible."

This time, when he went to tilt her head back, Ivy tried to turn her head away. Weak as she was, she was adamant enough against drinking that he had a hard time getting a grip on her. However, after a few seconds of light grappling, he grasped her jaw and forced it open as gently as he could manage, before dumping the emerald contents into her mouth.

His wife sputtered again, some of the potion dribbling down her chin, though most seemed to make its way to her stomach, as another harrowing shriek ripped itself out of her throat. Her body began to shake uncontrollably, the movements bordering on convulsions, and she let out a great and dreadful groan of pain.

"I love you," she whimpered, eyes still closed. "You were right, we should have run away, I never meant for this… No more… I beg you… No more…"

"It'll be over soon, I promise," Regulus told her shakily. "So soon, we're halfway there."

Grabbing more of the potion, he crouched beside her again and reached for her jaw. But Ivy instantly began to cry when he touched her. He attempted to get hold of her, but she pulled away, harder this time. He made to grab her jaw again, but she jerked away hard enough that she fell to her side on the smooth stone.

"Make it stop," she begged weakly. "Please…. I'll do anything… Make it stop…"

Those words were enough to bring tears to his eyes, but he forced them away.

Awful as it was, Theya was right.

They had a job to do.

So, Regulus rolled her onto her side.

She gave another agonised cry but didn't rise from her place on the ground. Straddling her waist, Regulus firmly grabbed hold of her jaw. She tried to shake her head, tried to shake him off by doing so, but he forced her mouth to open and poured the seventh glass down her throat.

Immediately, the witch he loved broke down into sobs. She moaned and cried and her entire body trembled beneath him as she shook her head back and forth violently. "It should have been me, take me instead… Spare her… She can do better than I…"

"You're being so brave, my love." Regulus whispered, despite knowing that she couldn't comprehend his words. "You're nearly there. We'll be done soon, I swear."

Getting off of her, he dabbed his eyes, as he was officially unable to force his tears away. Sparing a glance at Theya and Kreacher, he found that they were both in much the same position.

Acquiring more of the emerald potion, he was more determined than ever to get this over and done with. Going back to his sobbing, desperate wife, he wrestled her into position. Ivy tried to fight him off, but she was too weak to do much more than flail.

Regulus dumped the potion down her throat once more, and when the last drop touched her tongue, he jumped away from her.

He was just in time, as the white-haired witch reacted with a torrent of screeches. Each came out more jagged than the last and he knew she must be tearing her throat apart making those kinds of sounds. After the screaming came writhing, and he watched as she pounded her fists against the ground, so hard that he wouldn't be surprised if she managed to stress-fracture a bone or two.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Her chest heaved with sobs. "Don't touch me… End it… No more… I beg you…"

At the sight of this, Kreacher appeared to finally have had enough. Plugging his large, bat-like ears with his fingers, he dropped onto his bottom and squeezed his eyes shut.

Regulus, too, was tortured by the scene. Manhandling her in such a way, especially as she begged for the pain to end, was his worst nightmare. Although he was doing what must be done, he was ashamed to his core.

He wanted to console her, but the time for sweet nothings had passed.

Ivy couldn't hear him and his words would do fuck all to soothe the rest of them.

Regulus was quick to refill the goblet and quicker to straddle her again. This time, she tried to claw at him to leave her alone. She was successful in catching him across the throat, making him hiss in pain. Though he began to bleed, he knew the wound wasn't deep and pushed on. Eventually, the brawl ended with his knees pinning her arms down, as it was all he could do to hold her still anymore.

The ninth goblet full of potion made its way down her throat and he hurried off of her.

"You're hurting me…" Ivy thrashed viciously on the ground. "Don't touch me, don't touch me, please, I don't want this… Not the belt! No! I beg you, stop touching me…" She screamed at the top of her lungs, the tormented cry echoing in his ears even after it had stopped echoing around the cavern.

It was his turn to break down into sobs.

He was forcing her to relive the attempted rape Wilkes had inflicted upon her. Did she think Regulus was her assaulter? Would she forgive him later for making her relive it? Could he forgive himself for doing such a thing?

"Theya," Regulus pleaded in a broken voice. "I c-can't. I c-can't do it."

"I know." Theya looked just as anguished as he felt and tears streamed down her face as she walked to Ivy's side. "You keep watch for Inferi, I'll finish with her. Don't look."

He did as he was bid and turned a blind eye to what was happening behind him. Staring out across the glass-like surface of the lake, he drew his wand and tried to tune out his wife's shrieks when she consumed the tenth glass of emerald potion.

"I want to die!" Her holler was ragged. "Make it stop! Kill me! Kill me now! I want to die!"

Regulus bit the back of his free hand to keep from vomiting.

As Theya went to refill the goblet, he did his best to tune out his wife, who was tearing his heart into smaller and smaller shreds with every sound she made. He heard a brief struggle as Theya returned to his wife, but he didn't dare look over his shoulder yet. Then, there were the sounds of gulping, gagging, and an immediate wail of agony. This was followed up with a desperate demand that someone end her suffering.

Regulus heard footsteps, the scrape of a goblet on stone, then the sound of Ivy trying to spit out the potion. When choking reached his ears, he whipped round to find Theya pinning his wife to the smooth, dark stone. She was straddling her best mate, knees keeping the white-haired witch's arms securely in place, even as she convulsed. Her hands were over Ivy's mouth, while green dribbled down the side of his wife's face, plus out of her nose.

"Swallow, Ivy," Theya sobbed. "S-Swallow and we're done. It'll be o-over. Just fucking swallow! P-Please!"

He took a step forward, ready to intervene, but then his wife indeed swallowed.

And went limp.

Theya immediately rolled off of her, voice going high-pitched with alarm. "Oh, no. Oh no - what have I done? She's not dead, is she? Tell me I didn't just kill her!"

Regulus skidded to his knees beside Ivy and put a finger beneath her green-tinged nose. Feeling her breath on his skin, he let the tension go out of his body. "She's breathing."

Kreacher ran to her side and took her hand, staring down at his Mistress. Tears and snot were running all down his face, so he wiped them with his rag of a shirt.

"We just need to-" Regulus stopped short and pointed his wand at his wife's chest. "Rennervate!" When Ivy didn't instantly wake, he huffed. "Come on, let me see those silver eyes. Rennervate!"

Ivy released a mighty groan and rolled onto her side. She took a deep inhalation of breath and released it haggardly, then began to cough.

Regulus heaved a sigh of relief and kissed her forehead.

"Water," she croaked. "Water."

Theya knelt down and helped Ivy into a sitting position. "You can have all the water you want in a few minutes."

"Water," she blinked blearily at the golden-haired witch.

"That's right, dopey." Theya's voice shook, as though she was forcing herself to not take the situation so seriously. "Water."

Seeing that his wife was alright for the time being, Regulus stood and simultaneously tucked his wand away. Hearing them struggle to their feet, he went to the stone basin and peered within. He was swift to exchange the fake locket for the real one, which he put round his neck.

It was only when he turned back to the two witches that he realised his mistake.

Ivy's silver eyes locked onto the artefact.

Her face went slack, empty, void of any emotion.

In an instant, she was standing before him, trying to wrench the locket away from him. Not by pulling it over his head, but by grabbing hold of the necklace and tugging. She yanked at it with an inhuman strength that could not have possibly belonged to her. She pulled hard enough that the back of his neck began to burn with the force.

"Ivy!" He yelped, trying to pry her fingers away from the locket. "Ivy - stop!"

But one look in her eyes told him that no one was there.

His wife gave one more vigorous tug.

When it didn't give, she lifted her foot. Placing it flat against his chest, she yanked on the locket and kicked him. Hard.

The chain of the necklace snapped, sending Regulus flying.

He skidded, right over the island's edge.

The last thing he saw before hitting the water was Ivy, who had sank to her knees and begun viciously bashing the locket into the flat rock of the isle. The last thing he heard before going under was Theya's petrified scream.

Then, he heard nothing and saw nothing.

All he felt was cold, as frigid water swallowed him whole. The shock of it had him gasping for air, only to find that his throat was being clogged with water. Gagging, he began to swim. He tried to go upwards, as he could only feel, not see, upwards. The world was darker down there, darker than it was above, which he wouldn't have thought possible.

After a moment, his hand broke the surface, followed by his arm, then his face.

Regulus coughed, spitting blacker than black water into the lake. He coughed until his throat cleared and sucked in the chilled air above.

Only when he'd regained his head enough to recall that he needed to leave the water immediately, did he notice his surroundings.

The once still lake was teeming, as far as the eye could see. He was only perhaps two metres away from the island, where Ivy and Theya were screaming his name blindly into the dark. They sobbed with their backs to each other, wands drawn, though it was clear that Ivy was barely keeping upright. Kreacher was in between the two, as though he'd been forced there for his protection.

"I'm here!" Regulus yelled, swimming frantically to the island. His teeth chattered, as he was already shivering from the icy water. "I'm here!"

Ivy's head snapped in his direction and she all but dove towards him. Landing chest-down on the edge of the smooth stone, she reached a hand out to him over the water. Theya and Kreacher were quick on her heels and they both grabbed hold of her legs, ready to Apparate or pull her back if need be.

Sheer terror sent adrenaline pumping through his veins and he swam as fast as he could manage, though he couldn't help feeling like the water was thicker than it should have been, and thus harder to move through.

Regulus was nearly there and he reached out a hand, pushing away the waves with his other.

His fingertips had just grazed hers when he felt a slimy something wrap around his ankle.

"I love-" Water spilled over his head as he was dragged under.

The unbearable cold of the water pressed in on him again, disorienting him as it sunk ice into his every nerve. He tried to shake off what he could only assume was a decaying hand, but its grip was tight enough to bruise.

It was then that he felt an additional hand clasp around his ankle, just above the other.

Regulus kicked, his foot making contact with something hard. One of the hands let go, only for an arm to wind itself around his shoulders and for the hand to latch back onto him. He lashed out with his arms, twisting in the water to rid himself of this pitch-black, lung-crushing nightmare.

But the water made him slow, slower than water should.

And he was cold, so very, deeply cold.

The corpses dragging him down were impossibly heavy and he knew now that fighting was futile. Still, it didn't stop him from trying. He kicked his limbs and flailed out his arms, hoping to hit anything, as his ears began to hurt from the pressure.

The effort drained his air supply quickly and soon he found himself gasping. Freezing water washed into his mouth, down his throat, into his stomach, and into his lungs.

He choked, gagged, tried to push the liquid out, but it wasn't going anywhere.

All he could do was inhale more water.

It occurred to him that he hadn't gotten the chance to say his goodbyes. He hadn't gotten to express to Ivy how much he adored her, or tell Theya that he'd always wanted a sister and found a really wonderful one in her. He'd certainly never told Severus that he loved him.

The fight suddenly left his body.

His chest convulsed of its own accord, the rest of him having gone limp.

His sense of self, sense of consciousness was disintegrating. Piece by piece, it dissolved and floated away. He no longer could fathom where he was, when he was, or why he would bother asking those questions.

Then, just like that, he was back.

Regulus's eyes opened, though he could still see nothing. He felt the slimy hands around his ankle and the arm around his shoulders. He was still sinking and his ears were about to burst from the pressure.

But the water was sucking itself from his body.

Disturbingly, he could feel it vanishing, being replaced with air. It disappeared from his lungs, then his throat, then his mouth. His body was even warming, slowly, until he'd stopped shivering. Until he felt as though he had just hit the water.

He didn't understand, but he sure as hell was not about to question it.

Mind spinning, he tried to figure out how he could get rid of the Inferi.

His wand! He still had his wand, tucked up his sleeve! Unless it had floated away…

The thought had just entered his mind when he felt a pulse go through the water. It caused his body to wave like a current was tossing him to and fro, but more importantly, it caused the Inferi to burst off of him. Not like they had let go, but like they had been pried away by a far stronger force - it was as though an orb of safety had expanded around him, repelling them.

Regulus didn't waste a second. He might have air in his lungs now, but he was still at the bottom of a corpse-infested lake.

He swam upwards like his life depended on it, which it did, only able to tell up from down because of the way his clothes moved against his body. He gave over every scrap of energy he could muster to his limbs, kicking and clawing to find his way out.

Second by second, the air in his lungs became less useful.

But second by second, the pressure on his ears lessened.

Hands reaching skyward, a shock of despair went through him when a hand grabbed his wrist. He made to shake it off, only to realise that it was warm; it was a hand connected to a living, breathing body, not a slimy something in the water.

His heart leapt and he accidentally breathed out the last of his air. Bitter-tasting water made its way into his mouth, but he stopped it there as best he could.

He was drowning, but this time, the idea made him swim harder. Because a warm hand meant that he was near the surface. It meant that he was being rescued, that he would live to see the people that mattered most to him. He would get to finish his sentence.

The hand held tight to his wrist, dragging him upwards in spurts, though he was plenty motivated to swim himself. Eventually, the hand paused its efforts, and with one more kick of his legs, Regulus resurfaced.

He spewed frigid water everywhere and coughed until he could barely breathe from that too. He inhaled and let the sweetness of the heavy air wash over him. One deep breath was not enough, nor was fifteen.

Only when he'd fully regained himself did he open his eyes.

Theya was dragging him through the water towards the isle, breath heavy and laboured. Regulus had been too preoccupied with breathing to realise that she was pulling him to safety. He began kicking and moving the water with his arms. She glanced back at him as they neared the island, revealing a great gash just above her eyebrow. Without speaking, she tightened her vice grip on his wrist.

It occurred to him that the Inferi had gone, so he looked around for some sign of where they'd gone to.

What he saw shocked him to his very core.

He and Theya were surrounded by Inferi.

A thousand -perhaps more- reanimated corpses were in the water with them, their decaying face bobbing at the surface. Some weren't more than skeletons, but some had bits of soggy flesh or hair hanging from their heads. It would have been revolting, if he wasn't fearing for his life.

He was fearing for his life, but the Inferi weren't trying to take it.

Every last one of the dead bodies were practically motionless.

Now that he thought about it, he and Theya were swimming around them. The corpses paid them no attention whatsoever, even though they were within perfect grabbing distance of at least a dozen.

All of their heads were turned to the isle. They seemed to be… waiting.

Regulus and Theya reached the island and pulled themselves onto the smooth rock, spilling water across the surface. They both scrambled away from the edge and heaved for air.

The Inferi were staring at them.

No, not at them.

They were staring at Ivy.

Ivy, who was on her feet, soaking wet from the waist down and shaking from head-to-toe. She was covered in gashes and scrapes and gouges, but he wouldn't have thought so by looking at her face. Her expression was unyielding, authoritative, and there was something commanding in her silver eyes. Both of her arms were outstretched and her scuffed up hazel wand was in hand.

Sandwiched between her and the plinth was Kreacher, who was clinging to her calf with one hand, and gripping the Horcrux with his other.

When Ivy began to lower her arms, Regulus watched with awe as the Inferi descended beneath the surface of the lake. Her arms dropped to her side and the water went still again.

"What the fuck?" He breathed.

"I know," Theya said hoarsely. "Later."

"Mistress Ivy is an Omen of Death," Kreacher spoke as though this was all the explanation they would ever need.

The house elf stepped forward to grasp Regulus and Theya's hands. Ivy gripped his small shoulder and the foursome Disapparated.