The Marauders: Year Seven Part One

Mr. Borgin

The water was ice-cold, like knives. Regulus kicked his legs, feeling the resistance of the water weighing him, keeping him from reaching the surface. Far above, he could see the blue of the sun reflection and a small speck.

"Nearly there..." a voice said, clear and ringing beside him, "Nearly there now son."

Regulus clawed at the water with wide-spread hands, trying to propel himself faster in anyway possible... and he could see now that the speck was a man, a man with bare-feet and wearing what looked like pyjamas... a man with long, flowing black hair... a man who was drowning.

"Nearly there..."

He broke the surface, shaking water from his hair, swimming toward the man, just meters away, hanging there in the water, pale, and blue-lipped. He grabbed hold of the hand, boney and cold, holding tight...

CRACK!

Regulus's eyes opened and he kicked frantically, struggling, his legs tangled up in his bed sheets, and he could hear someone screaming... screaming...

"Master Regulus! Master Regulus!" Kreacher's croaking voice was in his ears and Regulus realized the elf was standing on the bed, clutching his shoulder, and the screaming was his own, and he quickly shut his mouth. "Master Regulus!" 

"I'm sorry, I'm alright, Kreacher," he gasped. Regulus sat up and finished kicking off the sheets so that he lay now on a bare mattress and curled so that he was against the headboard, hugging his knees to his chest, his hands folded over the ends of his toes. Catching his breath was difficult, and he sat, breathing heavily through his mouth for several long moments.

Kreacher stood, tentative, eyes wide and ears back with worry, staring at his master with concern. "What is it that ails Kreacher's Master?" he asked when Regulus's breath was finally steady again.

Regulus shook his head, "Just a bad dream, Kreacher."

"Master Regulus was calling for his brother," Kreacher said.

"Was I?" Regulus asked, and he looked at the door, flushing, then whispered, "Not loudly enough Mother could hear it, was it?"

"No. Kreacher's Mistress is away from the house tonight," Kreacher replied.

Regulus's brow folded, "She is?"

"Oh yes," Kreacher replied, "Mistress has left each night for the past week."

"I didn't know," Regulus replied. Then, "Do you know why, Kreacher?"

"Mistress is performing a service for the Dark Lord," Kreacher answered, "She goes, seeking something he desires."

Regulus contemplated for a moment. "What is it?"

"This, Kreacher does not know."

Regulus nodded, "Alright."

Kreacher snapped his fingers and a cup of water appeared on the night stand. "Drink, Master Regulus, you need water after bad dreams so to keep from drying up."

Regulus took up the cup, warily eyeing the water within, and drank the entire cup down in a couple of long gulps. He sighed and put the cup back down on the table.

"Do you want for Kreacher to remake your bed for you, Master?"

"Please," Regulus climbed out and Kreacher hurried to make the bed, clicking his fingers and climbing aboard to do finishing touches, like tightening the tucking and folding down the duvet. He plumped a pillow. "Thank you, Kreacher." Regulus climbed back into the freshly made bed and tried not to be reminded of the way the water felt in his dream as he let his legs slide through the sheets.