Upside Down Mirror: A Grim Tale (Harry Potter Fanfic)

A Grim Death

"What was I thinking?" Thin fingers twisted into dark curls as he looked at the top of his desk, leaning in on his elbows as he did so. "What the bloody hell was I thinking?"

So many thoughts crossed Regulus' mind, the memory of Kreacher appearing in front of him remaining entrenched firmly in his brain. He remembered how water puddled on the floor, something he would end up cleaning up later on so his mother wouldn't know let alone punish the poor creature. He remembered how Kreacher's thin frame felt with the poor House Elf collapsed into his arms, wailing so hard because of the green potion Voldemort forced down his throat that Regulus found himself casting a silencing spell on his room. He remembered how Kreacher greedily lapped up the water he gave him, the potion making him desperate for fluids.

Regulus knew all too well how Kreacher's point ears always seemed to hear the sounds of agitation Regulus let out when he buried himself into a corner, covering his ears trying to block out the sound of his mother and Sirius arguing. He knew the House Elf's big eyes somehow knew when he'd not eaten recently, a plate pushed slowly across his desk until Regulus' own ears picked up on the sound the plate made which in turn brought his attention to how he needed to eat something. Kreacher, who reminded him that he'd stayed up too late studying, or that there was some form of engagement, among so many other things, was hurting because of him.

He'd been the one to honestly think lending the Dark Lord the family House Elf was an honorable thing, but there was no honor where the Dark Lord was concerned.

Swallowing, Regulus quickly pushed himself away from the desk, the chair sliding across the floor in a rather cacophonous manner as he found himself looking at the college he'd started before he'd been graced with the Dark Mark upon his left forearm, remembering how Kreacher held him and rocked him as he sobbed from the pain receiving the mark inflicted upon his small body, but around Kreacher and Kreacher alone he found solace to be himself, his true self. Swallowing, again, he stood up and headed over to the college, his arms crossed taking in how he'd foolheartedly believed the Dark Lord would make the world a better place.

The lights in his room flickered in response to his emotions, making Regulus look up, swallowing as he did so. "Bloody hell."

Kreacher of course wasn't there to calm the bought of accidental magic which threatened to breach out simply because Regulus, the one his mother thought was a far more sensible Pureblood than his brother, didn't have the actual sensibility to control his emotions once the threat of someone in the family seeing him break down was in fact gone. He'd ordered Kreacher to stay in his hiding place, picking up the chores his mother normally expected of the House Elf so she might not notice his lack of presence and thus punish the poor creature.

Regulus' hands fell to his side, letting out a sigh. "Seriously, what was I thinking?"

"You were thinking about pleasing mother and father," Sirius' voice played in the back of his head. "Always the perfect Pureblood."

"I'm not. I'm not..." Regulus' hands reached up, twisting into the black curls, still not understanding why anyone might think that, yet he did grow up with his parents holding him as an example for Sirius regarding how they expected his older brother to act. Of course, they never saw the imperfections, but he feared showing those flaws to them, particularly after his mother started treating him like an only child – the perfect, only child.

The parents who didn't care suddenly cared too much, but then, what they wanted was, in Regulus' mind, Sirius. Classmates who didn't notice him before, treated him as if he were invisible, suddenly noticed because he was now the heir to the House of Black. Slughorn, much to Regulus' surprise, invited him to join Slug Club, which in turn quite pleased his mother, though in the back of his mind he did need to admit Slughorn also pushed him in his earlier years to join the Slytherin team.

"We'll be free to use magic in front of Muggles, Regulus," he remembered his mother saying, her back to him as she looked at the family tapestry rather than looking him in the eye. Regulus ate this up, having always feared those accidental bouts of magic that occurred just like the lights in his room flickered. He'd also eaten up his grandfather's words about the superior caring for the inferior, just like he did for Kreacher, should have done for Kreacher. Regulus let his arms crossed his chest, the thumb of his left hand, his dominant hand reaching up so he might worry the nail.

His silver-grey eyes closed, taking a deep breath, remembering too much from the meetings Bella dragged him to even before he'd received the mark. He remembered how the Dark Lord handed him various books, tested his ability to remember the information in them, each time coming up with an even more complicated magical concept that Regulus ate up. He'd never actually sat in on the meetings and instead sat in the Lestrange library absorbing those books, eating up the fact the Dark Lord would speak to him about the books he read.

None of the others his age, even some older than sixteen were allowed so close to the meetings, which was how he'd heard the Dark Lord let information slip which he'd just now put together to realize he'd created Horcrux. Of course, a few of these individuals would call him the Dark Lord's darling and lover boy even at school, which confused him. He remembered how Bella ran fingers through his hair, something which always made him uncomfortable as well as the way she leaned down, whispering into his ear.

"Don't listen to them, darling. They're just jealous that you're one of his favorites, but Aunt Walburga is quite pleased with that."

Except, for some reason, his mother wasn't pleased when she found out. His normally indifferent father reacted for once, his mouth opening, his eyes on Regulus specifically, but more importantly Walburga was silent with an expression Regulus struggled to read, much, in the same manner, he'd always struggled to read other people's expressions. He remembered his father sighing and saying, "well, that is that," and his mother eventually saying that she was proud, but it still didn't feel right, yet he'd thought she was pleased after all. Now, he wasn't sure.

And why wouldn't he be a favorite, being tasked with doing research, something he was good at. He'd not been directly involved with any of the killings, even believing that the newspaper lied about the Dark Lord killing children and other innocents, yet Kreacher was an innocent and the Dark Lord left him to die. He'd felt so grown up doing that research, rather than childish because of those little things he thought only Kreacher and perhaps even Sirius ever noticed, that he'd tried so hard over the years to hide from his mother and father.

Yet, Regulus now felt his childish nature and naivety was precisely why the Dark Lord let him get so close to all that research. After all, Regulus was too naïve to realize some of the things he'd come up with while looking through those numerous books were used to kill innocents, making him indirectly responsible. He now felt his childish naivety amused everyone in the Dark Lord's inner circle, but there was no telling how much went over his head that everyone found amusing.

His hands lowered despite the fact he still didn't have control over his emotions, clenching at his side, not liking how everyone underestimated him, or at least everyone in the Dark Lord's inner circle. "Well, I'm going to young die anyways."

Regulus remembered all too well the Grim which haunted him ever since Sirius left and how he'd thought every year would be his last. This didn't stop him from being afraid, knowing he would go in fully expecting to die, nor did knowing that dying there, in the cave would keep his family safe. Kreacher begged him, wanting to drink the potion instead, yet Regulus couldn't be cruel. Not when it truly went against who he was, and this was about regaining who he was before he died.

Nobody would of course know he died a hero. Nobody would know that the Infiri dragged him to the depths of the cave. He knew this as he drank the potion, making sure, or so he thought, that Kreacher understood he needed to leave and destroy the locket, that destroying the locket was far more important than saving his measly, worthless life. He didn't know this as he crawled his way to the water's edge to get a drink of water to quench his thirst, thanks to the potion, but he remembered when the first Infiri grabbed him and he remembered as he was dragged into the water.

"I saw a Grim, the black dog which omens one's death. I'm meant to die young. No, I should have died sooner, given the fact I saw a Grim. And it doesn't matter if nobody knows, because there's not anybody who would care," Regulus thought as the Infiri fingers latched onto him painfully and he couldn't hold his breath any longer.