The Marauders: Year Seven Part Two

Fallengunder Has Fallen

Regulus teetered in and out of consciousness, blurry shapes only just visible beyond the shadow of his eyelashes. He was laying in a bed in a room that he did not recognize, and he could hear someone moving close by. Every muscle of his body felt as though it had come loose from his skeleton, and his mouth was so dry he could scarcely move his tongue. "Water?" he asked the mysterious person in the room with him. "W-water?"

He recognized her touch as much as he recognized her voice. "Here you are, son." Walburga's touch came upon the back of his head, gently lifting him up and putting a cup to his mouth.

When he had finished drinking, he blinked up at her. "Mummy?" he asked, and the moment the word had crossed his lips, he regretted it. His face flushed as he heard cackling laughter from somewhere else in the room. Regulus just felt so small, and weak that the word had come out the moment Walburga had touched him, without him being able to hold it back.

"Mummy," mimicked a voice, and Regulus recognized the cold trill of Bellatrix Lestrange, "Ickle bitty Regulus needs his mummy?" He could hear the pouty-mouthed amusement jingling in her voice, and she cackled.

Walburga's jaw set tight, hating Bellatrix for mocking her son in his suffering, but not wanting to seem soft by opposing her, either. She stared down into Regulus's face, trying to comfort him with the look in her eyes. It was all she could safely give, besides the water.

Regulus felt his throat constrict as Bella continued on mocking, and he fought to sit up, finished with seeming weak. The motion sent his brain spinning and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to regain his composure. It wouldn't do to go throwing up now. Bellatrix Lestrange would never stop her laughter if he did. When he opened his eyes, to distract himself from the threat of sick that rose up in his belly, he looked around the room. "Where are we?" he asked.

They most certainly were not at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, as he'd expected when he had asked Kreacher to take him to the Dark Lord. He'd known the moment that they apparated - in a library with tall shelves that reached away into high vaulted ceilings - that they were somewhere far, far away. The carved detail in the shelves ad the hewn stone of the fireplace was so different from anything that he had ever seen before in all his life.

"We've joined the werewolf army in the north," Walburga replied to Regulus's inquiry. "The Dark Lord is preparing his advance."

Regulus nodded. "And... and where is the Dark Lord now?"

"Downstairs," Walburga replied, "He is summoning his servant to retrieve the locket." Her voice was heavy with disappointment. All of the efforts she'd made to keep Voldemort from getting the locket... and it would be handed to him today before her very eyes... and there was nothing that she could do to stop it...

Regulus nodded. "I'm so sorry that I didn't tell him before, mother. I didn't know -- I --"

"I know, Regulus," Walburga said gently. "I know."

But in truth, this was exactly what was supposed to happen. This was precisely the plan that had been made... and Regulus's nerves were starting to smooth at the knowledge that he had not suffered in vain, Voldemort was indeed acting precisely as James Potter had hoped and predicted that he would...

Upon arriving to this place, Regulus had bowed before Voldemort, the moment that Kreacher had released his wrist, and he had felt the Dark Lord's advance into his mind, sifting through thoughts that he had purposely left unguarded, the bits and pieces of information that he'd carefully kept in his mind day and night since the day James Potter had come up with his plan.

Seeing Peter Pettigrew. Seeing the locket in his possession. Given to him by James Potter. The locket was with Peter Pettigrew. Regulus had spent the last month attempting to get it back from him once he'd found out that's where it had gone, but there had always been something in the way - some obstacle. A teacher or else Dumbledore, or even one of the other Slytherin boys messing up his various plans to regain possession of the locket himself... to return the locket to his Master, the Dark Lord...