Chapter Text
The water was black. Deadly calm. Silent.
And then, it was trembling.
A tremor rippled through the lake.
Someone rose.
He was in the water.
And then, he was resurfacing.
Coughing, he felt his chest burning. His lungs were clawing for air that felt sharp and foreign.
He was still in the water. Still?
Confusion clouded his mind but he knew he had to reach the shore.
Shivering, eyes stinging, he forced his aching limbs to move, to swim.
When his hands scraped against the rocky edge, he summoned every last fragment of strength to climb up. And when he did, he let himself collapse.
He lifted his hands. For a moment, he only stared at the water dripping from his fingers.
Had he… fallen into the lake?
No, he… he remembered drinking the green potion, he remembered being dragged beneath the water.
The Inferi…
Shaking, his eyes darted across the lake, expecting them to drag him back any second. But the water remained eerily calm.
And how did he resurface? The Inferi dragged him, pulled him under. How could he possibly be out? How could he not have drowned?
But he was on the shore, and he was breathing. He was alive. Whatever happened, he was alive.
Quickly, he scanned his surroundings. He remembered ordering Kreacher to leave him behind, and he probably did, because the house-elf was nowhere to be found. And there was no wand in sight. Exhausted and too weak to think of another way to get out of the cave, he did the only thing he could.
“Kr- Kreacher”.
With a crack, the elf Apparated.
But he was not the same. His posture was straighter, he looked weirdly older yet more vibrant, his rags replaced by a strange assortment of armour and soot. There was blood on his hands.
The moment his gaze fell on him, a torrent of emotions filled his eyes: relief, confusion, disbelief, all at once.
“Master Regulus?”
Regulus almost laughed, except his throat burned too much. He coughed again. “Of course it’s me, why do you–”
He broke off, because suddenly Kreacher was crying and hugging him. The elf’s sobs shook his small frame. Slowly, Kreacher pulled back, still crying, and Regulus let himself studying the familiar face in front of him. He noticed the deep lines carved into Kreacher’s face, as if years had passed.
“Kreacher,” he began, unsure what he was asking, “what… what happened? Where have you come from?”
Kreacher, still crying, tried to stop his sobs. “The Dark Lord… is gone. Kreacher could not do what his Master asked but the Dark Lord is gone. Master Harry did it. Kreacher was at Hogwarts when Master Regulus called him”.
Regulus blinked, his vision swimming. The Dark Lord… gone? Master Harry?
“Kreacher… who is Harry?”
“Master Harry Potter, Master Regulus”.
Potter. Regulus’ mind raced. He knew only one Potter – James, who…
“Is he…”. His voice cracked, another cough stopped him. “Is he related to James Potter?”
“Yes, Master Regulus, Master Harry is James Potter’s son”.
Regulus’ eyes widened. “The… the Potter boy is… Master Harry… is the son of James Potter?”
Kreacher nodded quickly. “Yes, Master Regulus… Master Harry Potter fought the Dark Lord with the help of his friends”.
Regulus felt lost and confused about almost everything the hous-elf was saying. James Potter had a son? Weren’t he and the Evans girl just married? And even if they had a child he was not aware of… wasn’t he supposed to be just a baby? How on earth could a baby fight the Dark Lord?
“Kreacher, why… why do you call him ‘Master’?”
Kreacher straightened, trying to regain composure. “Kreacher has three Masters now, Master Sirius legally adopted Master Harry, and Master Re-Regulus is alive”. The elf broke into sobs again.
Regulus rubbed his face, swallowing hard. His chest ached, too much to process. Master Harry, Master Sirius… The Dark Lord gone. This Harry Potter was Potters’ child, adopted by Sirius, Regulus’ brother? And again, wasn’t he just a baby? Unless… Kreacher looked older…
“Kreacher,” Regulus began, trembling, “when exactly are we?”
Kreacher was suddenly calm and looked at him with something close to pity. “We are in 1998, Master Regulus, sir”.
Regulus fell to his knees. Was he… How… how was it possible?
Before he could speak again, Kreacher broke the silence.
“Come, Master Regulus. Kreacher will take you to Hogwarts, you must see Master Harry and Master Sirius. They will explain everything”.
Regulus hesitated, his gaze lingering on the water that had imprisoned him for nineteen years. It was impossible, it seemed impossible, but… he trusted Kreacher, and Kreacher could not lie to him, anyway.
With a nod, he took the elf’s hand and stood. He glanced once more at the cave, the lake, the little island with the basin. Whatever happened, he needed to leave that cursed place.
“Take me to Hogwarts, Kreacher”.
And they Disapparated.