𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕱𝖆𝖙𝖊

Black's and Malfoy's

It was safe to say that Regulus Arcturus Black was thoroughly confused.

About an hour ago, he was sitting in the library with his friend Pandora. An unlikely pair some thought. Though it made perfect sense in both the peers' minds.

Pandora was talking to the boy about an experiment she'd planned on trying. Regulus listened with a half mind, some of his attention purely being drifted off. It was only when Pandora shook his shoulder and said his name, that he finally showed full attention.

"Regulus..." Pandora stared down at Regulus's shoes with an unreadable expression.

Regulus followed the girl's gaze and looked at his feet. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw a cloud of smoke spiraling around his feet. Soon he noticed that the smoke was climbing up, causing him to abruptly get on his feet.

Pandora followed suit as well. She watched as the smoke reached up to Regulus's neck. Frantically, Regulus attempted to pat away the smoke. Although when his hand reached to the point where his—now covered with smoke—body should've been, his hand simply went through thin air. 

"Dora! Help me-" Pandora couldn't hear Regulus's next words, because just as he is began to finish his cry for help, his figure was no longer visible. What was even more peculiar was that only a second later, the smoke was gone. At an even faster rate than it came.

Not only had the smoke vanished, but so had Regulus.

And so he found himself standing in the Malfoy Manor.

The Dark Lord, who he'd just learned was resurrected. Though that was one of the tamer things he'd learned recently.

Voldemort himself didn't tell much to Regulus. All that Regulus found out from him was that he was transported to the year, 1998. And the reason of this was that he will be an incredibly useful asset.

Clearly the Dark Lord never found out about his disloyalty.

Regulus wasn't sure what to do with himself. He was left isolated in the manor, who he was told is where he will be staying. He wondered as to why Voldemort would want to bring him back.

If the Dark Lord truly required his assistance, how come he didn't ask his older self?

The thought lingered in the back of his mind as he mindlessly looked around at the old family portraits hung up in the manor.

His eyes fixated on a woman who wore a emerald  pendant. His steps came to a halt and his eyes diverted to thin air, his thoughts having all of his attention. He'd realized the answer to his question.

'My plan worked.'

A wave of emotions hit him all at once. The plan worked. The plan to destroy that bloody locket. The plan that he'd spent days worth of time on, just so it would work perfectly.

As a rush of accomplishment came in, although it went by just as fast at the awakening reminder that this meant that he'd died.

What else happened...

———————————————————————

"It's beautiful here." Luna says as she ran her fingers through to wind chime that hung near the open kitchen. Bill and Fleur, who were both in the kitchen, turned at the comment.

Bill smiled warmly at Luna and replies, "It was our Aunt's. We used to come here as kids. The Order's using it as a safe house—well what's left of us at least."

Peter strolls into the kitchen, as he was in the midst of navigating his way around the house. His eyes immediately light up at the sight of such a large kitchen.