Chapter Text
Regulus Black always loved the moon. The sun was seen by everyone during the day. It warmed the skin, the grass, and the whole world after all. The moon only comes out when most people sleep. At night. When barely anyone was watching. The moon was a secret treasure of the dark.
Regulus Black felt like this often too.
Sirius Black was different. When Regulus hid, Sirius was thriving.
Regulus hated him for it. And Sirius did the same.
That's how he found himself at the Hogwarts grounds at night, pointing his wand hesitantly at the violent tree that was hiding a secret passage, according to Sirius.
„Go down the secret passage under the whomping willow and see for yourself, stupid git!“, his furious voice replays in his mind.
Regulus hesitated. Something was wrong here. But he couldn't quite grasp what it was.There was only one way to find out.
He took a deep breath and slowly stepped forward. With a switch of his wand, the violent tree froze, and Regulus could make out the passage hiding underneath it. Without allowing another moment of hesitation, he entered the dark.
The tunnel was tight and dirty. The dirt was itching on his skin, so he hurried to get out of there as fast as possible.
Eventually he could see the end. When he stepped out of the passage, there was a small room.
The windows were barricaded by wood, so the light was kind of gloomy. The furniture didn't look great either. There were chairs and tables that looked like they were beaten in half. Raising his wand, he carefully walked around to check out the room further. It realy was a mess.
Suddenly there was a noise. Regulus froze. His stomach felt like an iron fist just clenched his heart. A hint of fear flooded through his body, but he quickly shut it down.
"You're alright!" he quietly mumbled to himself. "I am Black! I can do that!“
There was another noise. It sounded just like someone would screech their nails over a plank of wood.
Someone—or something?
Regulus stood up straighter and finally could locate the noise. It was coming from upstairs. Until this point, he didn't even realize that there was a second floor. He was too occupied in exploring the first room to notice. Now, however, the first room was no longer of any interest.
Without a second thought, he started climbing up the old stairs. Luckily he reached the second floor without the rotten wood collapsing under his weight.
The room appeared to be empty at first glance, but it was also dark up there. He couldn't make out the whole room.Before he could creep any closer, the darkness was growling at him.
Or more…something in the darkness.
His attention snapped to the direction of the noise, only for yellow, glowing eyes to be staring back at him.
For a moment grey eyes met yellow eyes, and no one moved. Regulus realized a moment too late what exactly he was seeing. The eyes staring at him were not human, they were animalistic.
Before he had any time to react, the beast—because that's what it was—lunged forwards, and before he knew it, a heavy weight pressed him down on the ground.
Caught by surprise Regulus cried out in pain at the sudden contact with the hard floor. He squirmed and tried to fight himself out of his grasp, but he stood no chance.
The beast lunged forward once again, and this time its teeth found their target.
Regulus knew pain. It was a steady companion in Grimauld Place 12. But he never felt something like this before. The teeth sank into his side, and pain exploded through him, sharp and searing. It was like a thousand knives stabbing him at the same time. He could feel the warmth of blood running down his side.
The wolf kept growling and snarling through Regulus's screams. It was too much.
His body couldn't comprehend the unbearable pain anymore, his consciousness slipped away. His vision was blurring, then fading away. The last thing he could see was the glowing moonlight lighting the massacre that was happening inside.
Regulus Black always loved the moon. It was fitting that it would be the last thing he would ever see.
Death can take many forms. They say the killing curse brings a death without any pain. You are dead before you know what is happening. You are dead, just like that.
However, not everyone is lucky enough to die without pain.
Being mauled by a werewolf is certainly not painless.
Regulus was floating. Not conscious but also not unconscious either. Perhaps this was what death really was like. Just floating in between for eternity. Never getting anywhere, never finding peace. Suffering forever.
While the process of dying might be painful, the state of death itself should be without pain, right? Except, if this was death, it was actually very painful. It was an all-consuming pain, tearing through his whole self. There is no Regulus Black without pain.
You want to scream, shout, and do anything to express the pain. But he couldn't. Regulus wanted to move, but it was impossible.
His mind was a prison, captured in eternal agony. If this was death, Regulus was caught in a special place in hell
They also say that you relive your life in the moments before death.
Regulus thought of his parents. Would they mourn him? Would his mother feel any kind of emotions over his death? Or was he nothing more than another footnote in the Black family lineage?
Would his brother mourn him? Or would he be relieved? Another Black gone. One less member of the family Sirius despised, so loud and proud.
Would Barty and Evan mourn him? Or would they be silently happy he was gone? Happy to finally be able to live their love without the rotten disturbance Regulus Black always was?
A part of Regulus mourned that he wouldn't get any answers. The dead don't get answers. They are just gone.
And what a shameful death it was for a member of the ancient and most noble house of Black. No Black should die ripped apart by a werewolf. Werewolves were beasts. Beasts that deserved nothing but death. They were dangerous, Regulus Black's death was the best proof of that fact.
Distantly, Regulus wondered if he had already arrived in the afterlife. Was this it? Would he stay in this unconscious state of pain forever? Before he could focus on this train of thought any closer, his mind faded back into darkness.
The next thing he felt was the same pain he felt before. But this time there were hushed voices. He couldn't understand any meaning in it, but they were there.
Could people talk in the afterlife? Or was the afterlife a silent place without any noises? Regulus never thought about details of what would come after death. He was too caught up in surviving, living up to his family name.
His head was throbbing in pain. That was weird too. If he was dead, shouldn't his soul have left his body already? Shouldn't he be past any physical pain? Death seemed to be a very confusing state with many uncertain factors.
Before he could think about it more, his consciousness was slipping away once again.
The third time he regained some form of a conscious mind, his head was throbbing even more. It felt like someone hit him with an axe and refused to heal the injury. It was not only his head. His side was aching and itching in a sensation he never wanted to experience.
It was not just pain. There was something dark. It was like something dark and twisting built a home beneath his skin. It was a sick and rotten thing that poisoned his brain and tore at his insights.
He groaned and regretted it the next moment as the pain got even worse.
"He is waking up!" some voice he couldn't recognize proclaimed way too loud for Regulus's taste.
Someone shifted next to him. He could hear the sensation of fabric with skin, and once again he internally cursed whoever caused all these noises.
"Mr. Black? Can you hear me?”, another voice asked.
It was a warm and friendly voice, but the worry within was obvious. Regulus wanted to give an answer, to give the warm voice some sort of confirmation that he could indeed hear her.
It was a woman's voice. At least Regulus thought so. But then again, his mind wasn't in its best state.
When he found himself unable to answer, the same voice started muttering some incantation. The magic flooded over his whole body. The magic felt warm and comforting, like a mother embracing her scared child.
"He is awake. But he needs rest!”, the voice stated, and Regulus couldn’t help but wholeheartedly agree.
He couldn't move a limb, rest sounded spectacular.
Before he could realize what was happening, he felt some form of liquid shoved down his throat. He wanted to protest the force but was too weak to do so.
However, there was no need anyway. Regulus's mind welcomed the sensation of warm, consuming sleep.
Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps he wasn't dead.
Yet.