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Bundled up sheets and his duvet pressed into Regulus's back. He stared up at the ceiling above his bed; bleak, black, dull. No laughter echoed up from the floors below him. Not even a voice. Silence, an occasional creaking, filled 12 Grimmauld Place, and he watched the minute etchings in the ceiling above him sway as his vision blurred. He blinked to clear away the tears and the burning from staring too long. He closed his eyes, and they seemed to fold in on themselves, indulging in the overwhelming comfort.

It had been nearly three weeks since the ending of his final year at Hogwarts. There'd been meetings with the Death Eaters, but he was still only an early member. He didn't yet have the privileges of seniority; it may take a while to gather any information useful to him and Cora. To the Order. He turned over on his side. He still could hardly believe he was going to -eventually- be a member of the Order of the Phoenix. All his life, a Death Eater was the only possible role he thought he could play, but oh, how a year had changed him.

It was 9:30 at night, and he was restless. He still wore his day clothes, his shoes were sitting beside his bed. Although it sounded like the house was empty, he knew his parents were somewhere down below - but they almost certainly wouldn't come up to his room to check on him. He was, essentially, free to go. He sat up and straightened his shirt, slipped on his shoes, and turned off his lamp. It was an impulsive decision; he was gone in a vortex of shadow and light.

The first thing he saw was the starlit sky. A clear night - only thin wisps of smoky

clouds were occasionally lazily painted across a constellation. The distant, heavy sounds of waves rolling and crashing against rocks, bubbling and reaching out across smooth expanses of sand echoed from the bottom of the cliffsides. Green grass looked nearly grey in the night, but it was all familiar. He'd been here with Cora so long ago on Christmas Eve, her in a winter hat. He could see the pink wool now.

He walked slowly, listening to the water in constant movement below, the foamy tendrils always crashing, gliding, dancing with each other. His black hair was lifted by a breeze that smelled like salt and dirt. Would he ever end up in a simple life? Able to walk these cliffsides with Cora, with nothing else on their minds and a happy home to return to? He could almost feel the ink of the snake's tongue on his forearm and knew that having no worries would be too much to ask.

As if waking him up from a dream, a figure appeared in the distance, and he instinctively gripped his wand. The figure had long hair; it floated in the breeze behind the silhouette of a body. Regulus drew closer - could be a muggle, could be a Death Eater here to kill him after discovering the boy's intentions and new-found loyalties. The stars offered dim illumination to the cliff. He walked carefully. The figure still did not turn towards him. He decided to call out, and his voice came out louder than expected. "Hello?"

The figure turned with a flicker of its silhouette. "Regulus?"

Regulus stopped. The voice was instantly recognizable, as natural as the sounds of the waves. "Cora?" he called out across the grassy slope.

The figure hurried closer now, and her features became clear in the star and moonlight. Cora, hair loose and free from the pink hat. "Regulus, what on earth, I...I don't understand, I-," she said, her voice full of shock, confusion, and disbelieving happiness.

Regulus smiled uncontrollably, brow furrowed in similar emotion. He ran closer to her to close the final distance between them, took her shoulders and wrapped his arms around them, and kissed her soundly. He felt her arms wrap around his neck as she fell into the kiss.

"I missed you," he said as they parted and his mouth fell into her hair.

"I missed you, too," said Cora with a sigh, her voice muffled by his chest. "How are you here?"

"It was the first place I thought of when I decided to get away for a bit," he replied, still resting his head against the side of hers.

"Me too," she said with the same muffled and surprised voice.

"I love you," he said suddenly, pulling her into him as much as he could, wishing he could envelop her and stay like that.

She made a noise from within his embrace. "I love you," she replied. She lifted her head and looked at his face, then laughed. "How far we've come, Regulus."

He smiled down at her. "How far we've come."

She let her hands come around to his chest, her fingers gently resting on his sternum. "Have you heard any...information? Anything?"

He tilted his head and grimaced. "Ah, Cora, can't we just stand here and pretend nothing else exists?"

She smiled gently and nodded. "Maybe nothing else does," she said. "It wouldn't be hard to believe if we just stood here and lost ourselves to this clear night around us. There are no buildings, no lights aside from the stars. If we focused, it could seem that there is no world surrounding us, and that ocean goes on forever, and these grassy slopes never stop sloping. Just us, standing here."

Regulus closed his eyes. "That's all I wish," he said.

Cora stared up at the boy and his eyelids, and she thought he looked more natural, familiar, than her own reflection.

"I love you," he said, like the words were a sweet, breath of air he'd been longing for. He opened his eyes.

Cora laughed. "You already said that," she said.

He shook his head, smiling. "I don't care," he said. "It's all I can even think." He was still holding her, her fingers still stroking his chest.

"You know I love you, too," she said, gripping his shirt now. She reached her head up and kissed him again. His head dipped in rhythm with hers.

"I can't believe we showed up at the same place, the same time," he said as they parted.

"Me neither," said Cora through a smile, a laugh. Her fingers stroked his cheek. "Merlin, Regulus, I could kiss you forever, I think."

Regulus couldn't swallow the overwhelming swells of emotion that continuously washed over him like the waves down below. "Let's just do that, then." He gripped her torso even stronger now, feeling a rush of something forceful, something urgent. "I mean it, let's really pretend nothing else exists. Just stay here forever." He didn't want to let her back into the world; he had her here now. How could he possibly let her go again?

Cora smiled. "I want that more than I can put into words," she said, her voice quieting. "But you know we have duties. We've grown into people with purposes. Crucial purposes. We can't abandon them."

Regulus leaned his forehead against hers, breathing in the sweet smell of her skin blocking off the scent of salt. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know if all of that purpose is worth risking you. Risking this. Don't we just feel...fragile?" He felt that if he released his grip on her waist, she would drift off on the breeze and evaporate into the misty clouds he'd noticed when he first arrived here.

She shook her head. "We don't feel fragile to me," she said. "You're the most certain thing I've ever found." One hand held onto his shirt, the other still on his cheek. Her forehead pressed into his. They stood like that for longer than either of them knew.

His forearm began to burn again behind her back. Yes, he told himself. I know I can't ignore what is beyond these cliffsides. But the burning persisted, and he pulled his arm away, pulled back from Cora, and saw that the snake's tongue on his skin was writhing and pulsating.

Cora's eyes widened in horror. "What is that?" she asked.

"I have to go," said Regulus, tears creeping up in his eyes.

She tilted her head and nodded. Her arms wrapped around his neck again, pulling him into a tight hug.

He hugged her back, pulling her into him and breathing in as much of her as he could, like she was air he would need to save until he could come up again. "I love you," he said.

She nodded against his shoulder. "I love you," she said. They parted, he backed away, their eyes never glanced away from each other.

His arm writhed. He stared at her, her sneakers in the blades of grass. Her curls in the breeze. Her chest rising and falling.

"Regulus," she said. "Be careful."

He was gone in a vortex of shadow and light.

His room was dark, as he'd left it. His mark still burned and twisted on his skin; he opened his door and stepped into the hall. The study. He was pulled towards the study.

Even with lights on, the house seemed darker, as if the night was seeping in and even the air had a shadow. The study came into view and he entered, stepping into a shadow that he felt more than he saw.

Voldemort sat in an armchair, his black robes covering most of the chair itself, giving the effect that he was hovering in the middle of the room. He looked at Regulus with eyes that seemed like tongues of cold fire, reaching out to penetrate him with icy mercilessness. Uneffably evil.

"Regulus, my boy," he said, his voice with the same effect as his eyes. "I've come to ask a favor of you."

Regulus bowed his head quickly; he'd forgotten at first. "My lord," he said. "I am your servant."

"You are," said Voldemort. "What I need is your house elf."

"M-my house elf, my lord?"

"Kreacher is his name, yes?" His words were slow, frightening.

Regulus nodded.

"I need to borrow him," said Voldemort.

Regulus almost asked, "What for?" He stopped himself, nodding enthusiastically instead. "Consider him yours, my lord."

"Fetch him," said Voldemort.

The house elf was sent off with the Dark Lord, despite Regulus truly reluctant to do so. But there were bigger things to worry about, like how to truly end the man - if you could call him that - that had just sat in Regulus's study. He returned to his room, pleased at least that he had increased his reputation in Voldemort's eyes. The favor was probably a test, a way to see if the boy was worthy of the Dark Lord's trust. Gaining that trust would mean gaining access to information the Order needed. Things were going to plan.

He shut his door and laid back down on his bed, considering going back to the cliffs. But surely Cora was gone by now, back to her own house outside of London with her sweet parents and her most certainly sweet room. He closed his eyes in the darkness and pictured the way her shirt felt against his arms, the gentle curve of her upper lip as it dipped under his. Sleep came over him like the waves, and he dreamt of the same thoughts that sent him into slumber.