Chapter Text
Regulus had been confused when the Dark Lord requested the use of a house elf.
He had been even more confused when he had specifically asked him for his elf. Surely Bellatrix would have been all too eager to offer up Dippy, the Lestrange elf.
Not that he wasn't grateful for the opportunity, he just didn't understand why he'd asked Regulus specifically.
He had been looking for a way to prove to the Dark Lord that he was just as devoted as his cousin. He had also been looking for a way to prove to his mother that he wasn't thinking of running away and becoming a blood-traitor just like Sirius had. This offered an odd but fairly easy way to demonstrate that. He didn't have to hurt anyone or do anything morally questionable, all he had to do was ensure his loyal house-elf would complete the Dark Lord's task.
Easy.
Or at least, it should have been easy.
It wasn't even the fact that he had never truly been loyal to the cause that caused the doubt to blossom. And oh, wouldn't mother be angry if she knew that.
He had never really wanted to join the Dark Lord, but Sirius had run away and mother was even more unhinged now. So much so, that she had immediately pushed for Regulus to take the mark. She'd organised everything so quickly and had thrown so much praise and money upon the cause that the Dark Lord had complied within a week of Sirius' betrayal.
Bellatrix had seemed awfully jealous, likely due to the fact that Regulus was now the youngest person to carry the Mark being only fifteen, weeks shy of his sixteenth birthday. The Dark Lord had made it clear that he was an exception and the lowest one could be marked would still be seventeen for everyone else, he had no use for those that couldn't perform magic without the Ministry being alerted.
Mother had been so pleased when they arrived home from the cold, dark ballroom in which the initiation had taken place. If she wasn't Walburga Black she likely would have wept with joy. Instead, she had ordered Kreacher to bring her the best bottle of wine they owned and had retreated to the parlour for the night. His father hadn't even known they'd been gone.
Unsurprising really, he was always holed up in his study. He rarely bothered with anything anymore, Regulus wondered if his fathers emotional range had ever extended beyond apathy.
As it was, Regulus was having severe doubts. The Dark Lord had taken Kreacher almost two hours ago and Regulus had barely been able to sit still since. He had paced the length of his room so much he wouldn't be surprised if he'd worn out the wood of his floor.
All he could think about was the sick, manic grin on the Dark Lord's face as he and Kreacher disapparated in a whirl of shadows.
Not that he'd expected the Dark Lord to be reassuring. It was only a house-elf after all, a mere possession that could be replaced as far as most wizards were concerned. Even some Light wizards were of the same belief.
He'd say Sirius was an example of this, but his brother certainly wasn't Light. At least, not as Light as his friends. Sirius was much more Grey than he'd probably like to admit, but Regulus knew this to be true as he was the same.
He wondered if his mother would be appalled at the knowledge that both of her sons were disappointments in this regard.
However, he had always made his affections for Kreacher well known. His mother had given up at this point, she only scowled and tutted if she saw him being kind to the elf. It was the one thing her punishments were never able to change. Even Sirius only ever scoffed when he saw it - well he used to, up until he ran away of course.
Up until he had abandoned him.
It happened so suddenly, Regulus could barely comprehend what was happening.
A pop of apparition followed by, "M- Mas-" in the croaky voice of his beloved house-elf. "Mast- ter. K-Krea-" The elf dissolved in hacking, wet coughs. His small form shaking and rocking, chest heaving as he dripped some kind of dark, scummy liquid onto the floor of his bedroom. Blood was leaking from a few scratches on his frail body and every time the elf let out a wet cough, blood would spray from his open mouth.
Regulus was utterly horrified at the sight.
Kreacher had always been kind to him, had always patched up his skinned knees and carefully arranged his clothing, taking note of his personal favourites and always ensured any uncomfortable fabrics were as soft as he could make them on his delicate skin.
In turn, he had always made sure to be kind to Kreacher. They used to play together when mother wasn't looking and Sirius was off doing something else with Bella, back when they used to get along like matchsticks to a flame. Kreacher would always tuck him in and made sure to bring him his favourite biscuits and a cup of hot chocolate whenever he was distressed.
The only person to care about him in such a way was Sirius. Sirius who abandoned him at the start of the summer, only staying at home for three days before he threw whatever he could in a bag and left. Not even stopping to say goodbye to him, only focused on leaving.
Kreacher had been incensed on his behalf. The elf had patted Regulus consoling as the boy sobbed in the linen cupboard his mother locked him in when she found out Sirius had left. He had cried until he physically couldn't anymore, unable to remove himself from the catatonic state as he realised what this meant.
That he was alone and nobody really cared.
Nobody but Kreacher.
"Kreacher!" Regulus cried, dropping harshly on his terribly thin knees to wrap his arms around his friend. "Take deep breaths! That's it, just relax. You're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you." He assured, "Can you heal yourself, Kreacher? Is there anything I can do?"
Kreacher was still trembling, "Ma- master Reg-"
"Focus on breathing!" He interjected as the elf began to wheeze.
"K- Kreacher can d- do it." The elf managed to splutter as he attempted to pull away from Regulus.
He didn't want to distress him, but Regulus could tell Kreacher was only making himself worse. "No, Kreacher. I order you to stay here, I'll patch you up. You are to stay calm and focus on breathing, okay?"
Regulus waited for Kreacher to stop trying to wriggle away before rushing to the loose floorboard in the kneehole of his school desk. He pulled the board up and ignored his shaking hands as he rifled through the contents.
Kreacher had magically expanded the space for him years ago - some time before he started Hogwarts. It housed all the items his mother would not approve of. Of course, if she ever explicitly asked, Kreacher would have to tell her, but as long as she didn't, the items were safe.
Plus, Regulus had carved some runes onto the board to obscure it from her sight so even if she found it, unless she were extremely focused on this specific task, she would likely suddenly remember something else of importance.
Inside the floorboard was a variety of items. There were books of muggle origin, letters from Andromeda he knew his mother would punish him severely for as well as many, many items that either belonged to or somehow involved Sirius.
One of his Gryffindor scarves the boy thought he'd lost, (Regulus stole it when he'd seen Sirius leave it on the back of a chair in the library one day) letters the boys had traded throughout Sirius' first year. There was also a stack of photos of the two, some of which were muggle - Sirius had found a muggle photo booth and they'd had a strip of photos taken - as well as more recent family photos, ones which mother would have burned had Regulus not quietly taken them away from her sight.
However, more importantly, there was also an abundant supply of what Regulus liked to call - Punishment Pleasers.
These include healing, nutrient and supplement potions, various salves, oils and pastes as well as bandages. There was even a small supply of food and water in case mother decided to deny him meals - a punishment she used to favour until she realised Regulus' small frame drew attention. It was something people still brought up, where Sirius was tall and broad enough to be a beater, Regulus was lithe and a few inches shorter, the perfect frame for a seeker.
Sirius had never been denied food, her Heir had to be strong after all and couldn't have any physical restrictions. She would happily bruise him, maim him and break his bones, but she wouldn't dare risk stunting his growth the way she did Regulus.
Couldn't risk the children he must sire having any birth defects.
Regulus swiped up the necessary potions and salves before replacing the floorboard. He shuffled over to Kreacher and hastily applied the disinfecting potion before pulling his wand from his pocket. He spared a moment to be glad his parents were both in as their presence would mask his use of magic before waving his wand in specific motions to try and soothe Kreacher's pain.
"Kreacher," he began, carefully rearranging his friend once most of the tremors seemed to have subsided, "I need you to tell me everything. Tell me exactly what happened from the moment you left tonight, spare no details. I must know everything."
Kreacher looked ready to protest before the magic of the explicit order his master gave him cause him to pause, he met Regulus' eyes before nodding. "Kreacher will tell, Master. Kreacher apologises for being a bad-"
"None of that, Kreacher. Just tell me what happened, you have nothing to apologise for." He said firmly, he hated seeing his friend like this. Kreacher didn't deserve this. He was simply doing as he was instructed - what could the Dark Lord have possibly gotten his poor house-elf into?
After spluttering for a few moments, Kreacher had begun to explain what had taken place.
It left Regulus feeling numbly horrified.
A trip to a secluded cave followed by an unspeakable poison before being left to the tender care of murderous inferi? Regulus had to pinch himself a few times to make sure he was still awake, for this could not be real. It had to be a dream - some kind of awful nightmare. Except.. a glance at his little friend's bloodshot eyes and still softly shivering form proved he was very much awake.
Even in his worst nightmares, he could never have pictured this.
Not only had the Dark Lord put Kreacher through these horrors, but he had left him for dead.
He had left his house-elf, his closest friend, to die scared and alone.
An almighty rage burned within him. How dare he? How dare anyone do such a thing to his house-elf?
Regulus clenched his fists to stop himself from letting out an indignant screech. He had to think. He needed to think.
He turned back to Kreacher who was watching him warily, "Do not fret, Kreacher. I want you to go to bed and rest. You will not speak of this night to anyone. You will not leave the house, you are to stay completely unseen by everyone and shall only respond to Mother, Father or myself. Relax for the night, you have more than earned your rest."
It was always best to be as clear as possible with house-elves, even one as loyal as Kreacher could always choose to interpret orders in nefarious ways.
It was unlikely of course, most elves have been brainwashed into believing they do not deserve anything more than the substandard treatment they get. This has led to a race of powerful and intelligent creatures that are above all, fiercely loyal to wizards.
However, their loyalty can be swayed and Regulus has heard tales of elves betraying their masters every so often, usually in extreme circumstances or on the behest of another master - one which the elf chooses to recognise as their true master.
For example, while Sirius could always order Kreacher around, he rarely complied unless given no choice but to do so. The same was true for his father. Kreacher was loyal to his mother of course, largely out of fear, but even her orders could be overlooked if Regulus was the one giving the conflicting orders. Kreacher had made it clear early on that Regulus was his favourite, something which was immensely helpful throughout the years.
Plus, Kreacher was his friend. His friend who had been injured because of him.
Certainly the Dark Lord was truly at fault here, but Regulus had been the one to hand over Kreacher as if he meant nothing.
As if he wasn't his closest friend.
Kreacher merely nodded, "As Master wishes."
The house-elf disappeared with a muted pop and Regulus silently thanked him for doing so. Apparition could be far too obnoxious in his opinion. That ridiculously loud crack always irritated him and he was eager to learn apparition so that he could find ways to silence the awful noise. It wouldn't do to announce his presence all the time, after all.
Another bonus to Kreacher's carefulness was that Mother was still sound asleep. He wasn't sure he was in the right frame of mind to deal with her simpering over the Dark Lord. Or even worse, listen to her brag about how Druella would be tremendously jealous over such an honour being bestowed upon her son.
"A cave." He muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair and scrunching his nose slightly. "A.. locket? Why? What's so-" He shook his head. This didn't make any sense. Why would the Dark Lord go to such extremes?
A blood sacrifice at the hidden entrance to a seemingly random cave would deter most people by itself. This, followed by a lake with a concealed boat as the only way to a strange podium on a tiny islet.. it all seemed overly cautious.
Overly paranoid.
Unless of course, the locket wasn't a mere trinket.
After all these steps, the potion and the rush of inferi would certainly take care of any thieves. Regulus was honestly baffled at the need for such secrecy. What could the significance of an, according to Kreacher, gaudy looking necklace be?
His mind was still too scattered. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Kreacher alone and helpless, pleading for him to come and rescue the poor elf. Except, in these flashes, nobody came. Kreacher never managed to escape. The thought broke his heart. If Kreacher truly had been lost tonight, Regulus wasn't sure how he would have coped.
After Sirius left, Kreacher was all he had.
He couldn't lose Kreacher.
He needed to make it up to him, and it could only be done by doing something drastic.
Regulus rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. "Great, just fantastic." He murmured as he pulled back the sheets on his bed. He couldn't be bothered to change out his dirty clothes, he was exhausted mentally.
He also couldn't help but feel slightly hysterical, the way his thoughts were going, he was likely going to end up stealing the locket to spite the Dark Lord. Especially if the locket ended up being something important - which it must be given the protections in place.
Because, of course, that was the only logical solution.
Regulus sighed slightly as he finally shut his eyes.
He needed rest.
He could plot the demise of that tyrant tomorrow.