Disclaimer: World and characters of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, not to me. However, this story was written by me. Please respect that! Note at end if you're interested.

It is the year 1979, and Regulus Black is seventeen years old.

He is already a Death Eater.

He has an older brother, but pretends that he doesn't. He lives in Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Once he had a home and a family. He hears the Dark Lord's high, cold laugh in his nightmares often, but not even the Dark Lord knows that.

He is not immortal.

These are indisputable truths. These are the blocks of his sanity. When these are true, he knows that he is alive, thinking, and Regulus Black.

When he wakes in his own bed, not at the bottom of the lake full of Inferi, and finds himself at the end of a wand, he is immediately suspicious.

But when he asks "Is this Heaven or Hell?" and the woman behind the wand replies, with a snort, that it is 1998 and both, he opens his mouth and passes out.

-:-

He wakes up some time later and is tugged downstairs by a black-haired boy in glasses and the young woman from earlier, but he's in such a daze that he can't think properly.

"You were joking, right?" he asks with lingering hope.

The woman shakes her head. "No. You're Regulus Black, aren't you?"

He stares at her and then at the boy. "How do you know-"

"Kreacher!" the boy yells.

Regulus sucks in a breath and is about to tell the boy that only Blacks can call their elves, but Kreacher arrives and Regulus loses his words.

"MASTER REGULUS!"

And then the elf is hugging him and even though he and Kreacher are friends, sort of, it's still weird. "Kreacher?" he says. "I- er- oh Merlin, I have never been more confused in my life."

The woman takes over, gently detaching him from the elf. "Well, I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Harry Potter." And then she proceeds to explain. Everything.

-:-

He's shocked, to say the least.

"And Regulus?" Hermione says, her expression softening. "Sirius... he didn't make it."

"What?" Regulus says. "Sirius- no, no, of course Sirius did. Sirius survives it all. Please, if I lived, he did too!"

He nods and looks at Harry, who doesn't meet his eyes.

"Oh, Regulus," Hermione says, her own eyes welling up.

And then he does something he's not very proud of. He is, after all an ex Death Eater, a Black. He is supposed to be strong, cold, arrogant, not weak.

But when Hermione hesitantly touches his shoulder, he falls to his knees and bursts into tears.

-:-

It is the last day of the year 1998, and they still haven't figured out how or why Regulus is here.

He doesn't really care. See, he's met this girl.

She is not a Death Eater, but she lives at Grimmauld Place. She had a family once, and she hears the Dark Lord's laugh in her nightmares too. Hermione is not immortal, and her mudblood scar only emphasizes this fact.

He doesn't think he knows what love is. But if he did, he might love her. They aren't overly affectionate; not at all. It's not his style and it's not hers.

But her breath is warm and comforting against his neck, and she always knows what to talk about, and she understands, and everything is better with her.

Is that love?

-:-

But then- but then there comes a day, years later, when he looks down and sees himself starting to fade.

Hermione is sobbing in his paling arms as they rock back and forth in her recliner.

"Regulus," she says brokenly. "Regulus, Regulus, Regulus, don't leave me, I love you."

"Shh," he says. "You know I don't want to go."

She only sobs harder, grasping at his right arm. His Dark Mark is completely translucent now, although the rest of his arm is still visible.

He brushes a curl back from her face and smiles tenderly at her. "There's certain paths in life that we have to take on our own, and I need you to recognize that this is one of those paths. Don't be afraid of new beginnings, embrace your past, live."

"How do I do that without you?" she asks, taking shallow breaths.

"I believe in you."

He presses his lips to hers one last time.

And there is count of five- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. It is the year 2000.

He is gone.

And she is alone.

PLEASE NOTE:

After a very distressing event where this story was taken without my permission, translated into Spanish, and changed by an "author", Fanfiction took my story down as well as the copy. They sent me an email that it was not the property of the uploading author, when in fact, I wrote it, as many of my readers can attest to and my beta could as well.

Long story short, this is my fanfiction. Please, please, let me know if you ever see it anywhere else, because I have never given permission for anyone to copy my work. Thank you all for respecting the hard work that goes into writing.