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Regulus's head snapped up, alarmed, as he cast a worried look in Aoife's direction. He opened his mouth to say something, but Aoife beat him to it.

"Fine, I'll stay here."

"What!" Regulus exclaimed, incredulous. "She's coming with me, or we're leaving."

"You're not in a position to threaten, Regulus Black," the voice hissed. "fecisti vinculum, nunc manete, you have to do as I say, Black. I daresay you remember."

Swallowing harshly, he sent a questioning look at Aoife, trying to gauge if she was okay with it. Nodding slightly, she tried to cloak her trembling cowardice by locking eyes with Regulus. There was this warmth in them, which eased her nerves, slightly.

Regulus discreetly took out his wand, and twirled it surreptitiously. A small locket materialised, magically slinging itself around her neck. Aoife cast a questioning look in his direction, to which he mouthed the word, "Charm."

"Regulus Black," the voice hissed once more, impatience tinging its tone.

With one last worried glance, he reluctantly descended the steps.

As soon as Regulus was out of sight, Aoife swallowed harshly. What now?

*****

It seemed as if Inferi liked underground cellars. Dark, dank and depressing. Regulus internally grimaced at the sight of the dimly lit dungeon, which reeked of rotting fish and salt water. Many of the floating nightmares stood sentinel, sending a chill down his spine. A handful of flaming torches illuminated the stone walls, showcasing the accumulation of algae and moss. A shadowy figure floated towards him, peaking his fear. What was to become of him? Of Aoife?

"Welcome, Black," it said in a deep, hoarse voice. "We were awaiting you."

One of its ghostly arms beckoned for him to follow. He acquiesced, gripping his wand tightly. He hoped the charm he'd given Aoife worked. It was quite ancient magic, intending to protect the wearer against Dark Magic, but who knew if such a hastily made charm could do its job?

Shaking his head free of worrying thoughts, he focused more on his surroundings. There wasn't much, actually.

His guide was leading him through a narrow hallway. Here, the odour was unbearable. It did not seem to effect the floating corpse, however, and Regulus was adamant on not being viewed as weak. He kept his mouth shut and face expressionless, even though he gagged inside.

It seemed like the dungeons where the Slytherin Common Room was located, just a hundred times worst. Intimidating doors flanked the tiny corridor, decorated with rotting planks of wood and shiny bolts.

After a few more minutes of tortuous walking, they entered a large chamber. Thankfully, the odour wasn't that potent there, and Regulus was able to breathe a little more freely.

"Wait here," the same hoarse voice commanded him. The morbid sentinel vanished, leaving Regulus alone with his fear.

Many minutes passed, with Regulus's mind wandering to Aoife. What was happening? What about McGonagall, whom they'd taken as a hostage?

A dark figure appeared in front of him, scaring him out of his wits. Thankfully, all that effort Walburga had put was not wasted. He didn't even flinch.

"So you are Regulus Black," a silky voice said, vaguely unimpressed. "Quite a disappointment."

"It never does to go on appearances. They can be quite ... deceiving at times," Regulus answered, trying to appear nonchalant, even though his eyes followed the figure's every movement.

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