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Famous Singer Regulus Black, pictures assumingly taken by his older Brother?

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The cave was darker than James had imagined. The damp, cold air seemed to seep into his bones, weighing him down as he watched Regulus struggle with the enchanted chain around his neck, pulling the heavy, cursed locket out of the murky water. They’d fought their way through Voldemort’s protections to get here—Regulus’s secrets, whispered urgently in the quiet hours they’d shared, had been the key to it all. And now, they were close. So close to ending this nightmare.

But as James glanced at Regulus, he knew something was wrong.

Regulus’s face was pale, his skin almost translucent, like he’d already started to fade. Each movement seemed to cost him more, his hands trembling as he gripped the chain. James reached out, steadying him, feeling the unnatural chill radiating from Regulus’s skin.

“You’ve done enough, Reg,” James said, a thread of desperation in his voice. “Let’s just go. We can get help, tell Dumbledore. We don’t have to do this alone.”

Regulus shook his head, an odd, sad smile crossing his face. “There’s no one else, James. No one who would understand what I know. And if we leave now, he’ll know we were here. Voldemort will find it, hide it away again.” His gaze drifted to the cursed locket, his expression hardening. “I have to do this. I won’t let him keep winning. Not this time.”

James’s heart was pounding, a sharp ache spreading through him, but he didn’t release Regulus’s hand. “You can’t… You don’t have to do this alone,” he said, his voice breaking. “We’re not done. I—Reg, I need you to come back with me.”

Regulus’s fingers brushed against his, soft, lingering, and James knew, somewhere deep in his bones, that Regulus had already made his choice. “There’s no coming back for me, James,” he whispered, so quietly that James had to lean in to hear. “Not from this. I made my choices long ago. This is the only way I can make up for them. I need you to understand that.”

James wanted to argue, wanted to shout, but something in Regulus’s eyes—a deep, unyielding sadness—stilled him. He nodded, his throat tightening as he felt a tear slip down his cheek. “I… I understand,” he managed, voice thick.

Regulus’s hand lingered in his for a moment longer, his thumb tracing a slow, gentle line over James’s knuckles, a silent promise in his touch. Then he pulled away, his fingers slipping from James’s grip as he turned back to the locket. “Tell Sirius…” He hesitated, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell him I tried. That I didn’t go down without a fight.”

James couldn’t look away, his heart twisting as Regulus took the locket in his hands, raising his wand. The dark water began to churn around him, shadows rising as the Inferi sensed their sacrifice. Regulus didn’t flinch. His gaze remained steady, his jaw clenched, his face set with the same fierce determination James had come to love, however fleeting their time together had been.

In one final, broken breath, Regulus whispered, “Goodbye, James.”

And then he plunged into the water, the shadows closing over him, pulling him under. The locket glinted once before it disappeared into the depths, along with the boy who had once been nothing more to James than a name, a Slytherin, a Black.

James waited, hoping against hope that he would see Regulus resurface, gasping for air, with that defiant spark still in his eyes. But the water was silent, and the darkness swallowed everything.

When he finally left the cave, the locket clenched in his hand and his heart shattered, he felt emptier than he ever had. Regulus was gone, leaving behind nothing but a whispered promise, a silent memory, and the weight of a sacrifice that James would carry forever.

He’d tell Sirius, one day. But not yet. For now, Regulus’s last moments were his alone, a bittersweet ache he would hold close, long after the war ended, long after the world moved on.

Long after he stopped believing that he could.

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“Please-", James’s voice cracked as he sobbed, his body shaking with the weight of it. "Don’t make me forget you.” Regulus felt his own tears blurring his vision, making it hard to focus. He could see the anguish on James’s face as the Gryffindor fought against the spell, desperate to reach the other man, his body quivering and shaking in exhaustion as he tried to break free. But the magic held firm. Regulus cursed himself for knowing these spells so well, for making escaping close to impossible.

Part of him wanted nothing more than to see James fight through, to rush forward and pull him into an embrace, to slap the wand from his hand, tell him to stop this madness. But he couldn’t. Regulus had always been a realist; there was no room for dreams or hope. This was the end, and he had nothing left to say, no choices left to make.

“Obliviate,” he whispered, barely audible through their sobs. The spell struck, and he watched as James’s face went pale, the warmth of recognition draining from his eyes. The memories rose, curling around his wand like a fragile, shimmering blue thread—a piece of James’s soul, soft and warm, holding on as if it could resist the inevitable.

He forced the memories into a small vial, sealing them away. Yet even now, they seemed to burn against his chest, as if they were still fighting him, screaming from inside his pocket, desperate not to be forgotten.

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Later, in the silent gloom, Regulus watched the vial fall from his hands, slipping toward the ground as if in slow motion. His heart thundered so loudly that he barely heard Barty’s mocking laugh beside him. He didn't know. Didn't know the worth of the small glass bottle. Desperation clawed at him, and he reached out, his voice raw as he shouted, “No! No, please!”

But the vial shattered against the cold stone floor, the blue thread dissolving into nothingness before his eyes. The last trace of James drifted away, leaving only silence. Regulus stared, feeling hollow.

“It was all I had left of him…” he whispered, and in that moment, he understood what true emptiness felt like.

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They maraudered my boys

just saw someone refer to drarry as starseeker and I let out a violent sob

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Every day I remember Regulus was never reunited with Barty, Sirius and the others in the afterlife because he became an inferius and never left the cave is an incredibly bad day and I would like to share it with the class today. Thank you.

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"You have the same eyes as him-"

Sirius smiled. His own eyes glistering with tears of pain. With tears of regret. So familiar in every way. His voice was nothing more but a whisper. "I do, don't I?"

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Regulus "I am terrified he will hate me when he realises who and how I really am." Black

and

James "I will love you as long as the sun burns in the sky, as long as the moon shines its light into the dark night, until the raging blue oceans become calm and run dry. I will love you until the end of time." Potter

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"Do you think there is even one universe out there where we finally have an happy ending?"

"It doesn't matter. I will fall for you in every single one. We are a great big tragedy, you and I."

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"Barty." his lips moved, forming his name but Barty was to far away to hear. To far away to warn him, before the spell hit him in the back, making Evan stumble forward, his eyes widening in surprise. "YOU COWARD! CURSING HIM FROM BEHIND, YOU FUCKING COWARD." Barty couldn't figure out who screamed. Maybe it was Mulciber. Maybe it was he himself even. He didn't care either. His eyes were on Evan. Evan who now began to shake furiously, to fall forward into the grass and finally Barty noticed the long cut on his back, glittering with fresh blood in the moonlight. "Evan!" He finally snapped out of it. His legs finally moving. Every step closer to him, made the hole in Barty's chest feel deeper. "Evan!" He repeated, again and again, not waiting for an answer but still craving one nonetheless. "Evan, please!" He knew. He knew before he fell down besides him. The cut was deep. Rolling him to the side was no option. "Evan." There was no reply. Evan's eyes were wide. His lips formed to a surprised 'o'. "Please Evan. I couldn't tell you yet-" He sobbed. Tears streaming down his face, dripping onto Evan's back, mixing with his blood. "I couldn't tell you." He repeated, knowing it was too late.

How terrible it is to love something death can touch.