Chapter Text
Blood. Blood. Blood.
Red. Red. Red.
That’s the only thing Regulus sees. Hunched over on his knees in the forest. With a wand in one hand, but he doesn't have his other.
One arm untouched. One not.
Shit. That moon bastard. Gods. I'm going to kill him, I swear.
Regulus knows he's going to pass out soon. But how soon?
The trees surrounding Regulus are mocking him with their arms. He groans, eyes barely open, and pushes himself up with his one arm. And balancing on his knees, Regulus raises his wand to the gap that the thick trees don't cover and murmurs a spell. Blue light spills from the tip of the wand, a beacon forming in the sky.
And with one final breath, Regulus mumbles, “Please, please let them, him, find the light.”
With that, his body goes numb. Collapsing with the uneven earth.
The next thing Regulus knows is darkness. And, weirdly, peppermint. And thin clothes, maybe a t-shirt and pants, on his body. And his left “arm” in an uncomfortable bandage- wait, peppermint? He knows that smell, better than anyone, including Lupin.
Regulus knows where he is, and this may be the best place for him to end up. He’s at Hogwarts with Poppy. Thank the Gods. Regulus tries to grip the sheets to regain himself, but the sheets quickly slip out of his grasp.
“Regulus, my dear. Don't do that,” A voice softly scolds him, the sounds of medical supplies being laid down. He smiles. Shuffling can be heard across the room, and a warm hand presses his cold temple.
“Try opening your eyes.” Poppy commends, with the same tenderness as Regulus once knew back when he was a student. With a quiet hum, Regulus flutters his eyes as he slowly cracks them open. First, the sun strikes his eyes; the warm sunset fills the small room as he takes in his new surroundings.
Regulus knows he’s not in the hall with the other beds and students. He’s in one of the small side rooms. Specifically, the one he used when the common room wouldn't allow him into the boys' or girls’ dormitory.
His safe haven.
The bed is still on the left side of the room with the door on the right. A small desk sits in front of the door with a chair and a small bin. Next to the door are small filing cabinets filled with medical supplies. Brazilian Rosewood aroma, which the desk is made out of, fills the room alongside the peppermint. Regulus takes a long, deep breath in, savoring the moment.
Just like he remembers.
Poppy smiles at Regulus, “Good, looks like you took a nasty fall, here let me prop you up.” She gently shifts his back on the pillows. He groans in response. Poppy huffs at his neediness
“I need you to do something for me. I need you to remember these three words. Apple. Home. Glad.” Poppy says, taking her hand off his temple and shuffling back to where she once was by the medic cabinets. Regulus’s gaze follows her.
“You remember how this goes, yes? The concussion test?” Poppy shuffles through various objects, some of which are bottles, papers, or small vials of pumpkin juice for children who can’t keep potions down. “I’m going to show you numbers at a rapid pace, and you are going to tell me what they are. Okay?”
Regulus nods. He's done this test about a hundred times by now, and he knows what to expect. After flash card and flash card, Regulus passes. “Good,” Poppy says, putting down the cards and grabbing a flashlight from her apron pocket. Regulus is stunned.
“Dumbledore is allowing Muggle tech in Hogwarts now? I thought the old coup would retire before something as mundane as a flashlight would enter the grounds, let alone be used by you.” Regulus mutters, his voice slightly cracking since it’s been hours (or days, Regulus can't tell) since he last murmured a word.
He eyes Poppy’s hand as the older woman laughs. “Merlin, no! I had to get this back on my last visit to London. Amazing though, right? The old ways were such a risk to the students and me.” Poppy shakes her head.
After checking his eyes and asking him to recite the three words from before, Regulus was deemed fine. “I am going to still have you on bed rest for the time being, since you know, the arm. But other than that, Regulus, you are perfectly fine.”
Shit. Regulus, somehow, forgot about his non-existent left arm. And right on cue, his brain sends waves of discomfort and itchiness coursing throughout his body. Goosebumps trail across his pale skin. “Oh, shit, forgot about that,” Regulus forces an unconvincing chuckle while Poppy shoots him a skeptical look. “Well, you don't have to worry about it just yet. I already cleaned and disinfected as much as I could, but I can only do so much.” Poppy sighs.
Regulus knew that sigh. He heard a lot during his years at Hogwarts, mostly directed towards the Quidditch players such as himself. “You know I hate that place,” Regulus says, and Poppy quickly fires back, “St. Mungo can do even more than I can, Regulus, you know this. I can handle broken bones and concussions all day, but I draw the line at patients with injuries that require more than I have on hand.” Regulus groans before he takes a second to think again.
“Can't you give me Skele-Gro? Please? Anything but going to that wretched place.” Reg begs, which he hates to do. Unbecoming of a Black, mère used to say to him. Poppy shook her head.
“That’s to regrow broken bones that are still like the body. Not non-existent bones. There’s a difference, Regulus.” Her now sharp tone told him to stop. He knew better. However, realization struck him. And his blood ran cold.
“Wait, Dumbledore doesn't know I'm here, correct?” Regulus asks in a weary tone. Poppy shakes her head in reason. “No, he’s off with some men from the ministry. Hopefully, discussing plans for the war or something, he tells us nothing these days. Probably won't be back until next week.” Poppy rolls her eyes, “Plus, Minnie and I both took the secrecy, Regulus, you know we would never.” Regulus knows that, but he still needed reassurance. “Yeah, yeah. But could you set up wards? I know it’s tricky when it’s one section of a building, but, please?” Gods, once again, he hated begging.
“I can try, but the wards won't be that strong, so you know.” Poppy gives in, pulling out her wand. “Thank you so much, Poppy,” Regulus felt much lighter, a small smile tugging at his lips. “The things I do for my students,” Poppy murmurs, turning her strained face away from Regulus.
Poppy slips out the door, leaving Regulus alone with his thoughts. Great. Strange. The black-haired name thinks. I don't remember anything after I fainted. Regulus curls one knee to his chest, resting his head on it.
Barty would've taken me to his villa. Same with Evan. Dorcas is with that McKinnon girl now; there's no way she would've gotten the message. Pandora and Xenophilius are…somewhere. The man huffed and furrowed his eyebrows.
Sirius would never help me. Let alone answer the message. His eyes become wet. Potter is with Evans, well, now Potter as well. Regulus rethinks every person who might’ve brought him here.
Lupin? No. Greyback, that bitch, sent the werewolves somewhere in a forest by the Malfoy Manor. Regulus remembers Narcissa complaining about the “half-breeds” being too close to the peacocks.“I just don't want those bloodhounds near them, Regulus. Lucy and I are worried that one of the mutts will get the impulse to hurt them.” Like, there aren't bigger problems in the world happening.
Pettigrew is busy kissing the Dark Lord's feet currently. Not him. Plus, that rat only thinks for himself. Regulus rolls his eyes at the thought of Pettigrew. The fucking rat that switched sides. Regulus doesn't know if Sirius and the others know. Probably not. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Who does that leave?” He murmurs to himself. “Hm.”
Regulus then shifts so that his right hand rests on his knee, and his head is propped up by it. He puffs his chest, the movements of a cat or dog, finally being able to relax after a long day. He takes a few seconds to think, subconsciously fidgeting with the cold silver ring that’s wrapped around his middle finger. He shudders at the touch.
A few moments passed by. Regulus stops. His head perks up.
Wait. The man blinks, snapping out of his trance. His eyes darted towards the ring. His ring. The one given to him by his husband, an heirloom from many decades ago, long before they were born. Hell, even before either of their grandparents. His ring.
Gods, how could I be so fucking foolish? Regulus huffs in annoyance. His head snaps up as Poppy enters the small room, his eyes trailing her. The door shuts with a ‘thud’, and she looks at him, confused.
“The wards are set up. It will probably take Dumbledore a few days to notice them. Is there anything else I can do?” She cocks her head to the side.
“Um, yeah,” Regulus asks, “Wh-who brought me here? I know for a fact Crouch and Rosier didn't,” Poppy grimaces at their names, typical reaction upon hearing their names, “My brother sure as hell didn't. Dorcas didn't, Pandora didn't, not even Potter. So who?” His eyes scan her face as a soft smile forms.
“I think you know who,” Poppy answered, her calm voice shedding a light. Regulus feels his lips tug at a smile, but he quickly regains himself.
You idiot.
And Gods, Regulus loves that man.