Preview for a fanfiction I intend to post shortly- either sometime today or tomorrow. Here's the summary: What if Kreacher sacrificed himself to save his master's life at the last second and Regulu...
Regulus did not know how long he lay there; curled into a pathetic fetal position on the cool sand. His Death Eater robes were covered in sand, small stones, and other beach grit; but the young man made no effort to attempt to clean them. What was the point?
His breath was coming in hoarse, ragged gasps now, and Regulus was distantly aware that his stomach was twisting and contracting all over again; and felt the warm, burning sensation of bile scorching up through his throat. Regulus shuddered, convulsed slightly, and heaved onto the grayish sand; vomiting up what appeared to be a mixture of his last two meals and a few sips of the Drink of Despair.
Further down the beach, Regulus could make out the blurred silhouettes of two people: A tall, somewhat heavyset blonde Muggle man and a brunette woman who was probably his wife.
Regulus let out what he hoped came off as a defensive growl when the man approached him, curling further into himself.
“Hey, you all right?”
The wizard whimpered as the Muggle man lightly prodded his back- for some reason even the slightest touch hurt; like every part of his skin and body was unbearably raw.
“…..Don’t bother, Muggle. I’m dead already.”
Regulus slipped his wand from the pocket he’d placed it in and held it close to himself, shivering and preparing to scream as images of demons, murder, torture, and splattering viscera took over his field of vision once again. Hell. Surely he was dead and had gone to hell for the irreversible mistake of becoming a Death Eater.
These were the last things Regulus Black would remember; it turned out, for a long time.