The Marauders: Year Five #Wattys2017

The Missing Cave

The moment Regulus Black's face hit the wet sand of the shore was the first thing he could remember from when he'd been running across the grounds of Hogwarts after Care of Magical Creatures class. His eyes opened and he stared at the dark tan, speckled with broken shells and tiny pebbles, laying on the ground, his fist clutched 'round his wand, feeling as though he had been just running by the green houses and suddenly he'd fallen down or something and - and he'd somehow landed here, in wet sand. He could barely breathe, as though he'd been heavily physically active only moments before, but, as far as he could recollect, he had not. He blinked, trying to force his brain to remember, trying to work out what happened to him - why his ankle hurt, why his lungs burned, why there were tear stains upon his face, how had his clothes become soaking wet?

He could hear a roaring... and he turned his head and saw the waves of the ocean... rolling gently, dark blue and white capped in the fading light of winter afternoon, coming closer and closer, the foam only a meter or so away.

He had to be dreaming, he decided. That was the only explanation for the jumbled mess his memory had become. He must never have woken up this morning, or else he'd fallen asleep in Care of Magical Creatures. How else could he have gone from running across the grounds of Hogwarts to this wet, sandy beach without any purpose for having been here? He didn't know how to apparate and even if he did it wasn't possible for wizards to apparate in the grounds of Hogwarts. Only Kreacher was capable of that.

Had Kreacher brought him here?

Why?

"Wake up, Regulus," he whispered to himself. "Wake up."

Wake up Regulus, wake up... The words echoed in his head from another time. Please.... Please wake up. Please wake up.... You're sleeping, having another nightmare... and none of this has happened....

If only that were true, he thought now.

He rolled onto his side, every muscle and bone in his body aching horribly and he pushed himself up from the sand to sit and he felt quite dizzy, as though his brain had sat up slower than he had and had to rush to swing itself into place to catch up to him. He clutched his stomach as it twisted and closed his eyes.

"Don't move! Stay right where you are!" came a voice, shouting authoritatively from behind him.

And another, "Drop your wand and put your hands up where we can see them!"

Regulus did as he was told, his wand hitting the sand beside him and he brought his palms up, his arms hooked over his head, and he tried to catch his breath as fear poured through him.

"Regulus?" this third voice was familiar, and an immense comfort to hear. It was James Potter. "Regulus is that you?" and suddenly there was James, kneeling beside him, his face one of confusion. "Blimey what's happened to you?"

Regulus stared blankly up at James, "I dunno," he replied, his voice trembling.

James reached into the pocket of his robe and he drew out a handkerchief and with a wave of his wand and a muttered spell, he'd dampened it, and he brought the handkerchief to Regulus's face and begun to wash dirt and dried blood from his cheek, where Regulus had not even noticed yet there was a gash.

And suddenly there was Fabian Prewett - Gideon ran past and started walking back and forth, sort of pacing at a certain point, looking around, trying to find something, but clearly not having any luck. Fabian asked, "Where've you just come from?"

"I dunno," Regulus stammered. "I... I was running back to the castle from Care of Magical Creatures class... just a moment ago... and... and now I'm here."