𝙇𝙚 𝙋𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙩 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚

:death comes to all:

His arms and legs kicked out desperately as he tried to swim to the surface. The dark indigo water swirling despairingly as it enveloped him, trapping him, keeping him from the oxygen he needed. His entire body throbbed from the raw pain of the potion. A potion he willingly drank. And his lungs still screaming as though they've been set on fire.

Thin skeletal hands with decaying flesh greedily gripped his arms and legs, forbidding his escape and cruelly discouraging his struggle. Dragging him deeper and deeper into the dark abyss, the water looked more black than indigo now. It looked like death. The living dead called to him and he was filled with too much despair to fight back.

Slowly, the black began to seep in at the edge of his vision. He tried to open his mouth to breathe, but could only swallow salty water of the cave's hidden lake. Then, ever so slowly, everything faded away. Painfully, quiet. He didn't want to die like this, but it was too hard to try and fight, so he simply let the darkness take over him.

At least he died choosing his own destiny. He never chose before. The despair he felt was clouding him, and he was drowning in it, quite literally—but there was a sliver or something else in him, and it was called defiance.

Voldemort—flight from death. A name befitting a coward. He thought mirthlessly as his body numbed beneath the icy water, don't you know? Death comes to us all.

And just like that, Regulus Arcturus Black was gone.

::

Harry James Potter couldn't remember his birth. Not really. He, however, could recall everything from both his former life and demise. One moment his was closing his eyes for the last time in a lake filled with a legion of inferi, the next opening them for the first time in a bundle of cloth in the body of a babe.

At some point before his 'birth' and reincarnation he accepted the fact that he was Regulus Arcturus Black, the pureblood Noble scion of the House of Black, and second born heir. Now he was Harry James Potter, a halfblood from a once (and possibly still) notable family. He was baffled upon the realization of what his current situation now entailed.

He had cheated death.

Regulus was supposed to be dead, and in a way he was and wasn't.

Regulus didn't know how to feel about his reincarnation, especially his reincarnation into the body of a halfblood. What would his dear mother think? The thought made him uncomfortable. For some strange reason being a halfblood didn't quite bother him as much as it should. Was he supposed to feel bothered?

Perhaps Regulus Black, the scion of the noble House of Black should've felt disgusted by his blood status, but Regulus the younger brother of Sirius just couldn't. He was no longer tethered to his blood purist mother's opinions and he could think for himself. Thank you very much.

His eyes darkened at the sudden reminder of the dark lord. Had Kreacher managed to destroy the locket? Was the Dark Lord dead? If only he knew. How he wished he weren't so helpless in his new body.

Regulus clumsily maneuvered his squishy baby body so that he could better observe his surroundings. (His pride had been mildly injured after his few failed attempts to sit up.) He cursed his tubby arms and heavy head and his entire body! It was frustrating how he lacked proper motor skills. Regulus would have to relearn the hard way.

Once he had actually managed to sit up he took a moment to take in a glance of his environment. His piercing green eyes trailed around the room and landed on the man he now called father.

The man was very different from his first father. He was—dare he say it! Much warmer. James Potter was a loving parent and doting husband, nothing like Orion at all. While Regulus never liked James Potter when he was alive and at Hogwarts he had no choice but to tolerate him now. He could even reluctantly admit a soft spot existed for the man in his heart now.

Lily Potter née Evans was nothing like his first mother either. Walburga Black was dark, stern, cold and cruel while Lily Evans was light, warm and kind. Not only was she clever but she was also filled with an unconditional love that Regulus had never known from anyone, except...Sirius.

Sirius.

Regulus felt himself ache for his brother. Did Sirius know of his demise? Was he even aware of his change of heart? He'd do anything to apologize and beg for a forgiveness he did not deserve. If only he could reach him! Tell him who he was and how sorry he was for everything he had done. Regulus didn't bother fighting the pathetic sniffle that escaped his throat.

It was at that moment the doors burst open and his father happily welcomed his friend in.

"Padfoot!"

"Prongs!" The two Marauders cried out jovially.

Sirius then turned to the young boy whose eyes had seen death with an oblivious smile on his face.

"Hello, Pronglet." Sirius smiled softly, "I'm Sirius, your Godfather."

He blinked.

Regulus could bear it no longer.

Two hot tears trailed down his face followed by many more.

Panic filled Sirius at the sight of Harry's tears and he began pleading for Lily and James to come and help. He was oblivious.

Regulus wailed and cried harder than he ever had before.

Sirius was alive.

And Regulus would do whatever it took to keep it that way.