[daggers - part two]
[3rd] regulus

    He feared sleep.

    Not sleep. No- rest didn't bother him in the least. It was the dreams. Nightmares, that plagued him everywhere he went. He was scared of this sorcery, of this substance that his conscience created, of this force feeding on his deepest secrets and fears, his memories and pain. He feared the force that teared at his subconscious and showed him those vividly heartbreaking imagery.

    He had never been afraid of it before. But ever since his nightmare, he had been scared of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the same image: pain-filled pale blue eyes filled with heartbreak and betrayal.

    Every night he had to relive the scene a week ago, with her standing there, just standing there, and it was torture when all he wanted to do was rush to her side and kiss her and hug her, but he knew he couldn't and her crestfallen look killed him from the inside.

    But his own words were what truly hurt him. In every dream he heard his own voice asking if this was goodbye, and pushed her away, and the distance between them was like a wall separating the two. He cursed himself, every night, for telling her to leave. And he saw her snap, and tremble, saw her mental walls on, blocking him out.

    I'm sorry, please, I didn't mean that, no, please let me back in, please-

    But he couldn't say it out loud. Lord forbid what would happen if he did, and he gave up his happiness, but he only realized how high the costs were, and that he didn't only give up his own, when she turned to leave and he faked disapparating away, and he watched her sink down to her knees and cry, and in all his years of knowing her this was only the second time he had seen her cry. He watched as she closed her eyes and panicked and pleaded quietly for him to come back and to go back to the past, for that was where she was truly happy, and he couldn't help but wish to go back as well.

    He pulled out the dagger she had gifted him so long ago. A family heirloom, she had said. One of the only two things she had from her family, yet she had given him it. And he knew that she would love him unconditionally, and he- he could never forget her. He could never forget the touch of her fingers intertwining with his, her body leaning on his, her head on her shoulders. He would never forget how she comforted him and always made him feel at peace.

    There was a knock on the door, and Narcissa stepped in, holding an ornate tray with china cups and glass vials. She smiled faintly at him, but the infamous mental shield that all Black children were taught to have was there. He could feel it there. Narcissa was always reserved, tied to the Dark side by a betrothal to Lucius Malfoy, never speaking out, as the youngest girl in the Black family, and the most insignificant member. If only someone could see the kind, gentle girl inside, Regulus often thought. Only he and Andromeda, Narcissa's ever seemed to see that. Sirius had always preferred outspoken Andromeda, who always spoke up for muggleborns and so-called bloodtraitors, who was just like Sirius himself. Regulus, on the other hand, had always preferred Narcissa, so helped and pulled strings behind the scenes, a silent hero.

    Narcissa knelt next to him, staring at the dagger he still held in his hands, then shook her head. She offered him some tea, but he pushed her hand away, herbal tea splashing on the marble floor tiles. She silently refilled the cup. "It will help with your sleep," she insisted, "I know you have not been sleeping well."

    "I don't need a sleeping draught," he replied, "I just have nightmares. Horrible ones."

    "Why don't you ask Severus for a Potion for Dreamless Sleep then?" she questioned.

    To this he answered in a small voice after a while, trembling, "what if I don't want to stop the nightmares?"

    Narcissa sighed. She was closest to Regulus out of all her cousins, and yet she still struggled with understanding him. Why let himself suffer?

    Then she looked at the dagger again, and she understood everything. "A week ago," she began, catching Regulus' attention, "right after the battle at the seaside village and everyone had left, I saw you disapparate from an alleyway after some exchanges I couldn't catch. A girl was sitting there crying, and even Lily Evans couldn't make her leave." She remembered how the girl had pulled out a replica of the dagger Regulus was holding and called for Regulus to come back, how she had pleaded and sobbed, and Narcissa had felt pity for the girl who loved her cousin although they were on different sides. She knew how dangerous love was, and she knew that they would not get their happy ending no matter which side won.

    It seemed that she had pieced the puzzle together perfectly. He felt broken as his cousin told him how she saw her cry and how badly he broke her heart. "My dreams are the only way I will ever get to see her again."

    He knew it broke her heart to see him cry like that. She was the closest thing he ever had to a sister, after all, and he felt guilty, but he could think of no one else who would listen. Once upon a time he wouldn't hesitate to look for the young muggleborn but oh, how circumstances can change.

    She just offered him more tea, and tried to make him sleep, which he did, while she mended his wounds from a previous mission. But he heard Narcissa's voice just before he fell asleep.

    Don't fight it. Accept your fate. It has served me well, and will serve you well.

    And when he woke up, fresh from another heartbreaking nightmare, he didn't cry, nor blank out. All he felt was numbness.

    Numb. All he felt was numbness as Narcissa brought him down to the Dark Lord's quarters, and he bowed down before a master he hated.

    Numbness was all he felt, when the Dark Lord started talking, and he couldn't think, couldn't feel, couldn't focus.

    Numbness was all he felt, when someone piped up that he was quite friendly to the two muggleborn girls who were powerful and posed a threat in first year- how could they judge him on first year- and despite his protests that he had 'broken their friendship off long ago'- another lie, as her and Lily were his only true friends even though everything had driven them onto different sides, the two alone knew about where he truly stood, even if the latter wasn't as close to him as the former was- he had been given the mission. The deadline was in 3 months. 3 months.

    Weaken the duo. They wouldn't suspect you.

    And numbness was all he felt when he took Narcissa's advice, not fighting the Dark Lord's orders, as he sealed the fate of two of the only three people he cared so much for.
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(I'm so sorry I forgot to publish this before the 'consolation' chapter, I'm such an idiot, but enjoy this anyway)