#the reason kreacher was able to drink the poison and escape was that voldemort never viewed house elves as threats

[solarisburns]

there's a world out there where Regulus did tell the others about the horcrux's, that between all of them they would manage to hit them all at once. Most people went in pairs but Regulus knew what was waiting for him, knew no one would let a singular person drink the poison on their own, knew that Voldemort had spelled the the poison to keep multiplying until every wizard there had drank enough to be killed. He knew that if they both drank the poison neither would survive, so he made them let him go alone, saying he would have kreacher fro company. He knew what was going to happen but he had made his peace with it. His life for his friends was a price he would pay any day of the week.

Regulus may never make it home, but the others do. the others celebrate for each successful mission, but as the hours tick on they start to worry because Regulus isn't back yet. when kreacher comes back, locket in hand, they know. And when sirius demands an explanation and kreacher, his true master dead, explains. Regulus may have told them the secret to end the war but he would not be there to see it. he died a stupid selfless hero and they all hate him for it, just a little. but then again grief has always been good at hiding in the most unexpected places.

#regulus oh regulus your a tragedy in every world aren't you? #the reason kreacher was able to drink the poison and escape was that voldemort never viewed house elves as threats #so he made it only wizards had to drink enough to mass murder. kreacher was just a test that it would cause pain #also i completely had to bullshit a reason why he wouldn't bring someone with him and not make him die in front of them #im not that cruel... maybe next time #marauders era #hogwarts #regulus black #sirius and regulus #kreacher #house elves #voldemort #first wizarding war #sirius black #marauders #horcrux #harry potter #hp #hp marauders

[theprodigypenguin]

yo dude so like what do you think regulus’ profession would be in a nobody dies and everybody’s happy au

I wrote out a whole answer but Tumblr wouldn’t let me post it so here we go again VERSION 2.0!

Okay, so I’m super glad you asked this because frankly I think about Regulus Black about 80 times a day and that’s like way too much, but I have a super thought out version of the Regulus Lives AU concept because it’s one of my favorite things ever. So lemme just try and write this whole fucking thing out AGAIN fuck you tumblr. We know so little about his character aside from the tiny pieces we learn between Sirius, Kreacher, and the tiny minuscule bit we learn from Slughorn, so be aware the majority of this is my personal opinion that I’ve come up with based on my own headcanons and you in NO WAY have to agree with me at all! This is just one headcanon, and if you have a different idea then you are SUPER FUCKING VALID OKAY?!?! I just wanted to make that clear. This is my opinion on Regulus and it is completely okay if you have a different one!

So in the beginning I think Regulus would want to go into Professional Quidditch after Hogwarts. I like to imagine that he was part of his House Team for a reason, that he was really, really fucking good at playing the Seeker position. AT first I think he must have joined his house team because maybe that’s what was expected of him, but when he first started flying he got the same rush of adrenaline we see in Harry, this burst of freedom and possibility and pure raw talent. When he got up in the air there was no Black family, there was no expectation or blood purity, no abusive negligent parents or a brother who hated him, there was just air and sky and him. In general I firmly maintain the belief that the Black family, while lunatics, were just born talented. They were good at pretty much everything they tried. Is it a family trait? Who fucking knows? Not me that’s for sure. The Black family were insane, that’s canon, but all of them were brutally talented. I mean, Walburga charmed her portrait onto the wall of her home and NO ONE can break it? Like, damn. So when Regulus gets on a broom, he’s a fucking natural, and it’s the ONE thing that makes him feel free, that makes him feel like he has a CHOICE in his life. Back when he was just a kid, he didn’t know any better: Sirius could become the head of the Black house and Regulus could go do whatever he wanted, and he wanted to be a Quidditch player. Going into the professional league would give him his own steady income, his own name and popularity, he’d be entirely financially independent and old enough to completely cut ties with his parents, just do what he LOVED.

But, fate had other plans. Sirius ran away at sixteen and suddenly Regulus was next in line as the Black heir, a title he never wanted in the first place. In addition to that, I really believe he was forced into taking the Dark Mark. I have this image in my head that Bellatrix, Rabastian, and Rodolphus held him in place while it was done while he struggled against them. He really had no choice. Then later on he defies Voldemort and drinks the Emerald Potion in order to swap the Horcruxes.

Now, we don’t really have any actual canon evidence of WHAT happens to the people who consume the Drink of Despair. We can’t exactly take Kreacher for a good example since he’s not a human, he’s a House Elf, his body is entirely different compared to a human’s because he’s basically another species. Both wizards who canonly drank the Drink of Despair died before we could see if there were any long lasting side effects, but personally I headcanon that seeing as it was a POISON that was created by one of the most powerful and dangerous dark wizards of all time? Yeah, there were some side effects.

Nothing huge, most notably having respiratory problems, easily getting dehydrated and not retaining water properly, common fatigue and exhaustion, probably migraines and a constant lingering sense of fear or terror. The brain chemistry is tweaked, insomnia, nightmares, etc. Because of this, Regulus can’t exactly go into the professional leagues. He physically cannot handle the strain, his health is too fragile now.

So after escaping the cave, being a Black, Regulus would be too stubborn to just lie down on this fact. He’d start to look immediately for a cure. There is none of course, because Voldemort created the Emerald Potion, it’s a completely unknown potion. So Regulus starts researching, potions and medicine and anything that might be able to cure him or at least alleviate the side effects of the poison. It’s already canon that Slughorn thought fondly of Regulus, so we may as well assume he was a decent student in Potions Class right? After a couple years of hard research (after Voldemort first “dies”), Regulus would make a name for himself as one of the best potioneers around, regularly compared to Slughorn and even Fleamont Potter (Sirius and James have absolutely no idea how to respond when people say this, should they be offended, should they be proud, wtf is that little shit doing making potions????). He’s fucking GOOD. He never manages to find a cure for whatever it is he has now (I’ll give it a cool name one of these days, like the Emerald Plague or something idfk), but he creates other potions and becomes a regularly sought after potioneer. Regulus normally always helps when people come to him because honestly he really likes helping people.

During those 14 years between Voldemort’s disappearance and reappearance I imagine Regulus goes out for coffee with Slughorn sometimes, Snape will send HIM letters asking for advice cuz Regulus is just that good, he’s probably the kind of guy who’d make Wolfsbane Potion for free (takes him some time to get rid of those prejudices, but he manages to shake them eventually).

In the end, after the second war ends with the Battle of Hogwarts, I headcanon that Regulus takes over Snape and Slughorn’s old job as the Potions Professor at Hogwarts. Dumbledore offered him the position in the past but he turned him down because Regulus does NOT fucking like him. He can’t say no to McGonogall though, after she takes over as Headmistress and offers the job to him. So he’s the Potion Master in my mind!

Sorry that was so long, as you can tell, I really love this little bitch, I hope you enjoyed my rant!

#regulus black #reguluslives!AU #harry potter #mauraders era #mauraders #potion master #quidditch #seeker #amelia answers asks #amelia answers anons #anon asks #anon #asks #long post #longpost #tagging long post in case people hate me plz don't hate me the read more link isn't working

[aurora077]

Bonds of Brotherhood

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12699801/1/Bonds-of-Brotherhood

Summary: Sirius Black wakes up in a familiar, yet much loathed place. But is it as familiar as he seems to think? His brother’s face staring back at him tells him the answer is both yes and no. He also gets some answers for questions he didn’t even know he had.

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is owned by the lovely J.K. Rowling.

He opened his eyes, blinking slowly, as if coming out of a trance. Was he asleep? He didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembered was a high, cold laugh and a flash of green light. He seemed to be lying on a bed, and the view of the ceiling he oft stared at in his younger years told him that he was at 12 Grimmauld Place. But what was he doing there? He had left that place a long time ago and for the life of him he could not recall why he would wake up in this bed of his dreary childhood. There were memories swimming in his head, close enough to taunt him, but just out of reach. He sighed in frustration, after a few moments of thinking hard, trying to grab hold of them.

“Ah I see you’re awake then,” came a voice, which so startled him he almost fell off the bed. Turning towards the voice he froze. He must be hallucinating. “W..what? H..how?” he stammered, rubbing his eyes violently, convinced there was an apparition in front of him. The apparition just smiled, “No need to look so startled Siri, it’s only me.” “I know it’s you! But you’re dead, you can’t be here!” he said to the man, whose eyes, so similar to his own, were looking at Sirius with a mixture of amusement and sadness. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” he asked, and Sirius screwed up his face at the thought, because in truth, he didn’t remember much other than some vague recollections of his life. He put on a veneer of confidence and sneered, “What do I need to remember? I remember what’s important. You joined up with Voldemort and his band of buffoons. I’m glad you came to your senses and tried to leave but you should’ve known he would never let you.”

The sad smile was back. “Yes, I did know. Which is why I did what I could to help defeat him.”

“What are you talking about?” Sirius replied sharply. In his head, he was starting to wonder if he was losing his mind. Here he was talking to his long dead brother, who was obviously not a ghost from his colouring, but most definitely had to be some sort of hallucination. He didn’t know why he was carrying on this conversation. He should have been trying to find out what spell had been used to curse him into hallucinating things and forgetting large chunks of his life, and how to reverse it. But as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t help but listen. He had never really known what happened to his brother. Even if he was hallucinating, he never thought he’d see his brother again. They hadn’t been on the best terms, as Regulus was determined to be the dutiful son that Sirius wouldn’t. But Sirius knew if he hadn’t had James, he could have easily turned out like Regulus. Regulus didn’t have anyone to pull him out of that life. He sympathised with his brother more than he cared to admit. And he felt a twinge of guilt when he thought of how Regulus had died without them reconciling. But he had been in Azkaban, with no way to help his brother when he defected from the death eaters.

His brother’s reply pulled him out of his reverie.

“I know you never liked Kreacher, but he was my only companion in this house, once you left,” he started, and Sirius had the decency to look slightly ashamed. As much as he hated his parents and the path that his brother had taken, he had never hated his brother. “I couldn’t let him get away with what he did,” he continued.

“Reggie, what in Merlin’s name are you rambling about? What does Kreacher have to do with anything? What did Kreacher do?” he asked, confused.

“Kreacher didn’t do anything, except help me figure out the Dark Lord’s sinister plan,” he replied.

“Oh right, it took a house elf to show you that Lord Moldypants is a murderous megalomaniac bent on eradicating an entire section of the magical community because he deemed them lesser than him. Well done, you figured it out,” Sirius quipped sarcastically.

Regulus shot him a glare, “No you nincompoop, he showed me the horcrux that The Dark Lord made.” Sirius stilled. “Horcrux?” he blurted out, suddenly subdued.

“Yes. Horcrux. Murdering muggles and muggleborns wasn’t his only agenda, if you must know. He wanted to live forever, and found ways to extend his life to ensure that he would,” Regulus replied. “But how did Kreacher find out, I wasn’t aware he even knew what a horcrux was,” Sirius said, feeling a deep sense of dread come over him.

A horcrux was incredibly dark magic. Not many knew about it. But of course, Voldemort would. Not many purebloods even knew about it, but as it turned out, the Black family library housed all sorts of dark books.

Regulus’s voice became quiet, almost to a whisper, “Because he left Kreacher for dead at the place where he stored it. Kreacher managed to escape and he told me evrything. I made him take me to it. Kreacher didn’t know what it was that the Dark Lord had stored there, but I had my suspicions, which turned out to be founded, unfortunately.”

“So, he figured out you found his horcrux and killed you?” Sirius asked, voice just as quiet. He had not known how his brother had died. He only knew that he was dead from trying to leave the death eaters. He recalled something then, a memory of himself saying, “He was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely. I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death." If what his brother was saying was true, then in fact Sirius would have been wrong. Voldemort would not want his plans getting out and it would have made Regulus become important enough to warrant Voldemort himself killing him.

“No, he didn’t,” Regulus refuted, then paused, “Well, he didn’t know it then. Maybe he knows now.”

“What? Well then how did you die?” Sirius asked incredulously, as his new theory on his brother’s death was also debunked.

His brother’s eyes became haunted, as he relived the moments up to his death.

He remembered that night like it was yesterday.

He had been so proud. The Dark Lord had asked him to borrow Kreacher. None the wiser to the events that would soon unfold, and eager to please him, Regulus agreed and sent Kreacher off to do his bidding. He knew he was walking a dangerous path. Regulus had started to doubt the Dark Lord’s methods. He knew it would take one look into his mind for the Dark Lord to see his apprehensions. He needed to protect himself and his family. Refusing the Dark Lord would have been a bad idea. He was happy that this was a task that could gain him favour while not having to hurt anyone.

Or, so he thought.

Several hours later, while in his room, Kreacher had appeared suddenly, pale and gasping for breath. “M...master..,” he groaned. His eyes widened in alarm, “Kreacher, what happened???” The elf didn’t seem to have the energy to respond. Regulus began to perform several healing charms on the elf. The elf fell into a fitful rest; he seemed to be doing better, though he was still shaking. “M..master Regulus...Kreacher must warn Master Regulus,” the elf mumbled in his sleep. Regulus could feel a tightening in his gut. What had the Dark Lord done to his elf?

Kreacher may have been just an elf to others, and especially purebloods who would treat him like nothing, but to Regulus, Kreacher was a friend and confidante. In the Black household there was no room for weakness, and things like love and friendship were considered weaknesses. The elf always showed him kindness that he didn’t get from his own family. He loved and respected his family but even he couldn’t say they were very close. And especially after Sirius left the burden of upholding the family values fell on his shoulders. Kreacher was the only one who he could be himself with. This was the last straw for him. He had been getting increasingly disillusioned with the idea of blood purity that his parents and The Dark Lord believed in. He wouldn’t turn on his family like Sirius had but he didn’t like the methods the Dark Lord was using. As soon as Kreacher awakened, he would have him tell him everything.

Sirius had to admit, he had no fond feelings for the elf, but he felt a twinge of sympathy. Nobody deserved to be on the receiving end of Voldemort’s wicked plans. Except maybe Bellatrix. At the thought of Bellatrix, his head throbbed slightly like something was fighting to get through. But he merely shook his head and tuned back in to his brother’s story.

Kreacher had told Regulus exactly what happened. To say what he heard was shocking was an understatement. Kreacher hadn’t been cursed like he thought. He had just been poisoned by the potion the Dark Lord made him drink, for no other reason than to test his defences. Kreacher described being in terrible pain and seeing the most horrible visions. The Dark Lord treated his elf like a disposable object. He could not let this continue. Regulus knew what he had to do.  It was sickening what the Dark Lord was doing. He had to be stopped. Regulus wasn’t stupid, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop him by himself, but he could at least hinder him, give him a handicap he would not expect.

That night, Kreacher led him to the seaside cave that he had been to with the Dark Lord. He followed through with everything the Dark Lord did. He gave his blood to access the entrance to the cave. Once inside he saw the lake that separated him from the island in the middle. He didn’t see any means of transport. He tried to summon the horcrux, but suddenly an inferius was there, jumping out of the water. When he realised it wouldn’t work he had Kreacher tell him where to find the invisible boat that the Dark Lord used. They got on and sailed across to the island. He made sure he didn’t touch the water, now that he knew there were inferi in there.

Once on the island, he saw the bowl with the potion. The locket lay gleaming inside, seemingly innocent. But that was a cursed piece of jewellery. Tainted by the worst kind of magic. He knew Kreacher had said magic didn’t work on it but he tried anyway. The potion didn’t budge. He gave Kreacher the locket he had prepared to take the place of the other. He made him promise to take the horcrux and destroy it and not to mention any of that day’s incidents to anyone.

Throughout the story, the feeling of dread in Sirius’s stomach kept increasing, as his brother told the tale of his last day on earth. It suddenly hit him then, what happened.

“You drank the potion,” he said hoarsely.

Regulus nodded.

“Why?” Sirius asked, suddenly angry, “Why didn’t you let the elf drink it? You could have lived! You could have survived and helped fight against him. Dumbledore created the Order of the Phoenix to fight against Voldemort. You could have joined, provided valuable information. Why would you choose to die instead??!!” He wanted to grab his brother and shake him.

Regulus looked slightly alarmed at his reaction. “I am no murderer, Sirius,” he said softly.

Sirius didn’t look placated but he quieted down at that, though his face showed he was still unhappy about it. Sirius would have sacrificed Kreacher without a thought, Regulus knew. Sirius had never liked the elf. But he was not Sirius.

The tension in the room was palpable. Sirius looked at his brother. The brother who had never doubted the things his parents taught him until it was too late. The brother who he never got to bury. At least James had a grave. The thought of it made his anger drain out of him, to be replaced by a sorrow he had never allowed himself to feel. “So, your body is still in that cave then?” Sirius asked quietly. Regulus nodded sadly.

He remembered as he drank the potion, the horrible things he heard and saw. He had been in so much pain, and so, so thirsty. The only thing he could do was try to get to the lake for water. But in his addled state, he forgot about the inferi, who pulled him down into the watery depths, where he assumed his body still lay.

Sirius felt his heart clench. The story of his brother’s death was not what he expected. He had never really questioned it. But now that he knew what really happened (for he had the feeling that this story was true, even if he was hallucinating) he felt his throat close up, choked with an emotion he could not quite describe. When James had died, he was maddeningly distraught, but also inflamed with anger at Peter’s betrayal. It was a loud, explosive sort of sorrow. This time he felt differently, a sorrow that went deep inside him instead. It took him a moment to realise his brother was talking.

“I do not know if Kreacher ever managed to destroy the locket. I hope for everyone’s sake, that he has,” Regulus stated, unaware of the despair clinging to his brother. Sirius did too, when considering the fact that his brother gave his life for it.

His head started to throb again, and suddenly he jumped off the bed, startling Regulus. “Harry! I have to warn Harry,” Sirius exclaimed. In case Kreacher didn’t destroy the locket. In case Voldemort had more horcruxes made. Harry needed to know the kind of danger they were in. Dumbledore too. The war would be lost if they couldn’t kill Voldemort. This was too important. He couldn’t apparate to Hogwarts so he ran out the door, intending to summon the Knight Bus.

“Sirius, wait!” Regulus called, running behind him. “There’s no time,” he shouted back, finally making his way through the house and out the front door.

But where there should have been the front of his house, the road, the rest of the muggle houses on the street, there was a river. One lone boat sat on his front steps. He couldn’t see the end of the river, it stretched further out into the distance than his eyes could make out.

He was panting from his run, but turned to his brother, who had caught up with him.

“Reggie, what’s going on? What is this?” he asked. And finally the questions he should have been asking all along were starting to surface. Where was he? He could have sworn he was hallucinating or dreaming but it was starting to feel too vivid to be merely a dream. Did someone trap him in an illusion?

Regulus just looked at him, with that mournful expression.

“Dammit I don’t have time for this! I need to warn the order,” he almost shouted.

“Think, Sirius. Why am I here? Why can you see me? You know I am not a ghost,” Regulus said softly.

And Sirius did know. But his head was starting to throb again. The only thing recurring now in his mind was the flash of green light. He sank down to the floor, and leaned against the wall, holding his head in his hands. It hit him like the whomping willow. The high, cackling laugh of his cousin as she threw the killing curse at him. That’s what the green light had been. He had been at the Department of Mysteries with the order, fighting off death eaters and trying to save Harry and the others.

“I...I’m dead?” he murmured. Regulus’s expression told him all he needed to know. “I can’t be dead!” he shouted suddenly, “I have to protect Harry! I have to warn them how can I do that if I’m dead?” He thought of Harry. Thought of the boy who had lost not only his parents but now his godfather. His chest tightened as he sobbed. Regulus sat beside him, and for the first time since he was 13, he pulled his brother into a hug.

“Believe me when I say I know the feeling,” Regulus stated quietly. He sat with Sirius until the sobs subsided.

“We can’t stay here Sirius, they sent me here to bring you back,” he muttered. “What? Who?” Sirius asked, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ll find out soon enough,” Regulus replied, “We just need to get on that boat.”

Sirius didn’t even question it this time. His brother had more experience being dead than he did. He followed him into the boat without protest. After all, what did it matter what happened now? He was already dead. He was already useless to the one who needed him most.

He didn’t know that Regulus wouldn’t be the only brother he was reunited with. He didn’t know that the boy he cared for like his own would get to see him once again, as he walked towards his own death. And he most certainly didn’t know that a little boy would be named in his honour, many, many years later.

#harry potter #sirius black #regulus black #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #i don't own the characters #family #hurt-comfort #angst