The Marauder's and the Philosophers Stone

Prologue

It started long before Harry Potter was born, before he was only an inkling of a thought. It started with death, which is a common thing among those we follow during this version of Harry's story...  

  

Regulus Black 

June 1979  

  

Everything hurt. From his throat which was shredded from drinking the poison in the basin, to the bones buried beneath his skin. He forced himself to speak his final command to his beloved House Elf, Kreature. 

  

"Kreature, I command you to leave, leave me here and do not come back. Do not ever tell anyone what has happened tonight, or of what the Dark Lord had you do. Destroy the locket, Kreature, do you understand?"  

  

The Elf looked at him, his big tennis ball eyes swimming with sadness, anger perhaps for being commanded to leave, it caused Regulus to feel pain that was incomparable to the potion now flooding his body. He knew this would destroy the Elf, he was the only thing alive that had ever genuinely cared for him, other than perhaps Sirius at one point, and he was now commanding him to leave him here. 

  

Leave him to die. 

  

The Elf's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he was forced to obey his Masters command, and snapped his fingers, leaving Regulus well and truly alone. Well, alone apart from the thousands of Inferi crawling beneath the surface of the water stretching around the island Regulus was now hunched over on. 

  

You wouldn't believe there was an army of dead corpses hidden under the water, it was perfectly smooth, not a ripple in sight, even as Regulus and Kreature had used the boat to access the island, the water only parted for them, as if trying to make the journey easier for them, and therefore easier for the Inferi to claim another soul as reward.   

  

Regulus' last command echoed faintly around the walls of the cave, bouncing off one another, as if it were a cruel reminder of the last words he would ever speak to another living being. If Regulus were being honest with himself, he could not remember who even the last actual person he was spoke to, it was likely the Dark Lord, him agreeing to loan him Kreature. 

  

That thought disguised him, what that monster had done to his Elf, it made him feel bile rising in the back of his throat, although, on second thought, it may just be the byproduct of ingesting the poison concealing the locket which had sat in the center of the basin in the middle of the island. The locket, which was now far from here, and if Regulus were one to let himself hope, destroyed. 

  

The fake in the basin would hopefully not be discovered again, not for a long time, not ever if someone were able to end the Dark Lord for good. That thought made Regulus smile as he crawled towards his fate at the edge of the island, at least he would die after doing some good in the world. 

  

As he neared the edge, the energy given off by the water seemed to pulse in anticipation, in longing for claiming another unwilling soul to devour, but this soul was not unwilling, nor unknowing, Regulus knew what waited for him past the disguise of the calm surface, and he threw himself into it willingly, and without regret for doing so.   

  

As soon as he felt the first indication that he had touched the water, a pale, twisted hand launched out of it, its fingers splayed as it grabbed at him, catching the front of his robes, and dragging him into the water completely.