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Regulus stared at his own reflection in the lake. It was freezing cold, the tips of his fingers were numb. Kreacher was long gone, apparated away with the locket, just like Regulus told him to.
He had resigned himself to his fate of dying far before he came, but now that he was here, he didn’t want to die.
There was so much to live for in the world that he hadn’t experienced yet. More than the Death Eaters, more than pureblood culture, more than fucking Tom Riddle and his absurd ideals for the world.
Regulus was going to get out of here, and he wasn’t going to die. He refused. You can refuse to die, right?
Regulus focused on everything that made him scared. All his fears. His insecurities. If he was going to make it out of here, he was going to come back a changed man. He was never associating with anyone from his fucked-up, stupid family ever again. Except maybe his brother, who ran away and didn’t agree with anything like that either.
What made him scared? Dying. Drowning. Someone coming up behind him and startling him. Speaking in front of the whole Great Hall at Hogwarts.
What made him feel insecure? Telling James Potter he had always loved him. Admitting to being scared or having feelings. His parents forcing him into clothes he hated.
None of that would ever happen again. He was never going back to his family, he was going to start a new life for himself.
Regulus imagined all his fears, insecurities, evaporating. Vanishing.
What’s the most effective way to get rid of something? Burn it.
Regulus imagined all his fears going up into flames. Golden flames, why not? Gold was pure, gold would erase the stains on his conscience and soul from taking the Dark Mark.
Maybe he could find Sirius, when he got out. Maybe Sirius would hug him for the first time in years, saying how happy he was to see him, and Regulus could go live with him.
Wasn’t that ridiculously optimistic. And James lived with him too. Regulus could live his dream of James Potter actually noticing him. And maybe be happy to see him.
Regulus would get to see Evan and Barty again too. They would both still be at Hogwarts, Regulus could find them in the dorm and tell them he was okay. He could get them out from under the Dark Lord’s thumb. They would be safe. They could be happy.
He could find Dorcas and Pandora. He knew that as soon as Pandora left school, she’d gone far away so the war wouldn’t touch her. He would find her, tell her he was so, so sorry for joining Riddle. Make amends. Be a better person.
Regulus realized he was crying. He blamed the potion. The potion that dredged up all his worst memories, but didn’t make much of a difference because he was always thinking about his worst memories anyway, so what did it matter if it felt like he lived them again? He did that every night in his dreams anyway.
Regulus lifted a hand to his eyes and swiped away the tears. The tears for the life he might not get to live, if he wasn’t smart enough to get out of here. It didn’t make a difference, trying to rub his eyes to stop crying. No one was here anyway, so he let the tears take over, sobs wracking his body. He cried for Sirius, how they might never see each other again. He cried for James, he might not know how much the littlest Black yearned for him, loved him, and ultimately watched him fall for another. He cried for Evan and Barty, living their dream life together that Regulus would never be a part of. He cried for Pandora, the last time he’d seen her they’d fought, she’d pleaded for him not to go but he hadn’t listened. He cried for Dorcas, dead from challenging the Dark Lord himself.
He sobbed until he was gasping for air, dragging it into his lungs as though every one was his last, which it may very well be. If he didn’t get out of here, what was he supposed to do? Put his wand to his head and say Avada Kedavra? No. He couldn’t take the crushing of his lungs, heart, and soul that he felt at never seeing his friends again.
He let the tears trickle down his fingertips, and let them fall in the water.
The water was as black as ice, he couldn’t see into the depths at all. But as soon as one of his tears touched the water, it glowed gold, and sank into the icy depths. Regulus stared. He swiped a finger under his eyes, caught another tear, and let it drop into the water.
Same thing. The teardrop glowed gold, and sank into the water.
Regulus hadn’t cried since the day Sirius left him. He hadn’t let himself. But it was strangely invigorating, giving him strength to do what he knew needed to be done.
Regulus imagined all his tears turning into golden rain. Coming down from a blood-red sky, gilding the landscape, purifying everything. Melting the ice. Everyone would watch the beautiful spectacle from the sky that was Regulus’s tears, and they would finally see him.
He was ready to get out of here.
He slowly picked up his wand, and cast the strongest freezing spell he could.
Sirius had always been better at the fire side of elemental magic, but Regulus had mastered the art of turning water to ice. His charm was so strong that the lake crackled as the surface turned to blue ice, the same shade of blue that Regulus’s lips would have been had he decided to drown himself in the lake.
He could still see the faint golden teardrops in the depths. Somehow that gave him the strength to take the first step onto the ice, trusting in himself that it would not crack.
Regulus crossed the frozen water step by step, and when he made it onto solid ground, he almost started crying again. But he didn’t. He whirled around, cast the diffendo charm on the ice so it cracked with a sound like a gunshot, and walked out of the cave with his head held high.
Riddle insisted he loved all his followers. Regulus, at the time, had believed it, being a naïve sixteen year old coerced into joining. But trying to ‘love’ like Riddle had only frozen his heart. And then he figured it out. Figured Riddle out. He didn’t have a heart, no one who could easily murder hundreds of people without batting an eye could possibly.
Riddle had wormed his way into Regulus’s mind, poisoning everything he thought was true. He’d laid everything bare in front of Regulus using Legitimancy, making him feel like he’d been cut open. But with Occlumency, Regulus learned to hide the important things by covering it up with something humiliating. And it had started to work.
Regulus had escaped. Now he knew that whatever situation he was ever in, he could always get out of, get through.
Always break the chains.
He’d ricocheted. And now he was back. Look at me now.
In the grass, in the dead of night, Regulus apparated to Hogwarts and started his life afresh.
Never again would he return to Riddle. Never again would he bow to the whims of his family. He would be his own man. He would survive, not only that, but thrive.
He was going to take down Tom Riddle, Dumbledore, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and anyone else who had ever wronged him.
Let’s get started.