The Bug Collector | marauders

Portrait In A Burning House

t.w. mentions of fire and blood

Over the years, Regulus had grown accustomed to nightmares, but usually the terrors that would keep him up or rouse him from his sleep were fictitious in nature.

Not on that night.

After he'd fallen asleep, wrapped up safely next to Rose he'd dreamed of things that had just happened to him mere hours before. Thing's he'd just done.

—

Within the dream, he glanced down a narrow street, an endless dark energy radiated from the place.

It was in a small muggle village, one he'd been given orders to destroy. Volatile potions sat throughout the village in old abandoned buildings and churches Regulus had hoped were currently vacant.

He'd spilled the potion along the edge of the wooden structures, and lit a tall wax candle at the entryway to each building planning that the candles would burn down to the liquid and combust. By the end of the night the village would be all but ash.

And thus, he waited there at the end of the street.

The first boom made him jump.

The second was followed by screams.

And so on and so forth.

By that time, people were running in the streets, Regulus removed his mask and joined them, leading groups of people to safety.

It was the least he could do, he'd not REALLY been instructed to hurt anyone.

As more explosions went off, Regulus learned he'd placed some potions far to close to inhabited spaces.

He hoped no one died, but couldn't be sure.

He'd joined the rest of the residents in entering burning homes and helping the weak out.

There was such commotion no one seemed to notice he didn't belong, let alone that he'd done this to them.

Screams bounced off the cobblestone streets, fire bellowed out of an old church.

In his dream, that fire hissed at him.

I love you. It hissed.

Her voice. Rose's voice.

I love you.

Despite it, he found himself running into burning home after burning home, a child would cough in his arms and he'd cover their face with his mask for better ventilation as he brought the child to the safety of the forest line.

It all felt so wrong.

His own breathing was wrenched, his lungs were filled with smoke and embers. He'd cough and sputter until the strain of it caused him to cough up blood.

And when he finally collapsed, his mask fell to the dirt beside him.

I love you. It taunted.

His mother's voice.

—

He woke with a jolt, Rose was still sleeping. The blankets were a wreck as she'd always kick them off in the night.

Regulus took hold of the sheets, covering her skin that had become exposed to the cold air around them. Her skin was soft, and always rather warm. She was comfort laid there in human form.

He placed a firm kiss to her hair. His eyes heavy, vision blurry.

Her hair wasn't like a precious silver or gold, it was beautifully copper. Copper before it's been tainted and oxidised that is, before it's turned into a light minty green by the elements.

As he settled back into his spot next to the sleeping girl, he whispered to her, his lungs still stung.

"Je t'aime à mourir" He said, though he frowned.

"Je ne te mérite pas" He added, as his eyes fluttered closed once more.

—

He dreamed of her, right there they were.

"Well—" she'd said, reaching over to her bedside table. It seemed they had been talking.

She picked up her wand.

"Let me show you something." She said, holding the sheets against her bare chest.

"Tulips." She chirped, before sprouting up a few flowers atop of their green sheets.

"And next..." She began before laying back down and instructing him to look up to the ceiling.

"Atmosphaero" she said, and with a twirl of her wand the ceiling appeared translucent, the stars above them shining down into the dorm.

"It's like the Great Hall." He said, rather impressed.

"It's a much weaker spell, but yes, same idea."

"Did Xeno teach you?" He asked, Rose nodded.

"Figures." He said, looking up at the stars above them.

Just then, Rose lifted a hand.

"That one looks like a butterfly. Kinda." She said, he tilted his head and squinted his eyes, but in no way did he see a butterfly in those stars.

"Yeah, kinda does." He said.

And she smiled, so the lie was worth it.

"Reg?" She asked, looking over at him.

"Yes, Rose?"

"Is it too late for us to run away?" She asked.

"I...it was never about time, Rose." He said, and her eyes deepened with sorrow.

"Just. Just imagine it okay? Us, living in the countryside somewhere, away from everything. Just us, bees, and trees." She said, before lifting her wand again, conjuring a single fuzzy honeybee, it buzzed and flew by his face, so he swatted at it,

"Hey." She scolded before waving her wand again, the bee disappeared, and she continued her explanation of their future.

"One day, James and Lily will probably have kids, and they can come visit us. They'll probably have glasses like me and James, poor lads."

"Sounds like you've got it all planned out."

"I've had it planned for a while, since you came by that night when Sirius...ya know...left." She said.

Regulus took her wand from her hand, and placed her palm against his dark mark. He'd heard enough.

"We're never getting this off me, Rose." He said, her eyes sunk further.

"Whatever we create together, they will destroy. In theory, it's a wonderful idea, Rose." He said, taking her wand and placing it back in her hand.

"But, it's not worth the risk." He said, his final statement on the matter.

He could feel himself fading away.

With a lift of her wrist, she removed the tulips, but left the starry ceiling.

"Alright." She agreed, placing her wand back where she'd taken it from.

"Hold me?" She asked, and Regulus wrapped her in his arms.

"I'm sorry we can't have the life you want, I'm sorry we never got bunk beds." He said, and he could hear her sniffle.

"It's okay." She said, but he could tell she was crying.

He felt empty, like dead space as the dream faded from existence.

Unlike his nighttime, this wasn't a memory, it had never happened, it simply felt like it had.

—

When he woke, he found the ceiling was starless.

The cold stone looking back at him was nothing compared to the star covered sky he'd seen in his dream.

"Morning." Came Rose's sweet voice from where she lay next to him.

"Good morning." He said, a pained exhale escaping his lips.