Chapter Text
She prayed that she wasn't too late as she came closer. She could hear virtually no sound, which scared her much more than any shout could ever dream of accomplishing.
Screams meant that there was somebody still alive. Silence meant dead.
Her eyes landed on a crowd of inferi, slowly disappearing into the dark lake. They turned to face her, barring their teeth and slowly started to drift towards her.
She didn't have time for this.
"Fiendfyre!" She yelled, putting all her concentration towards controlling the flames.
The inferi started to move away from her hurriedly, although it was of no use as the flames scorched every single one of them.
She put her wand back into the pocket of her jeans, looked at the musky, dark waters below, took a deep breath and jumped.
Just hold on for a little while longer.
***
He could feel himself being pulled out of the water and being hastily dumped onto the rough ground. He wanted to hex the person who did such a thing because he was a Black, and how dare someone man-handle a Black!
He could hardly feel anything. His body was numb.
He felt himself going a bit thirsty and something soft pressing down on his numb lips. Air was being blown inside his mouth. Consciousness was starting to regain him, just a little bit.
He opened his eyes by accumulating all the will power he had.
Sadly, it wasn't much, and everything was still blurry. He briefly wondered if Potter felt the same way without those horrid glasses that he always wore.
He closed his eyes again. It was all too much.
Air was being blown inside his mouth once more and his head hurt worse than it did after any of the Slytherin victory parties combined.
He opened his eyes again, and the sight he awoke to was beautiful.
Soft black wavy hair fell around him like an acromantula silk curtain. Her face was incredibly impossibly beautiful and her gorgeous features left no doubt of pureblood heritage. Her cheekbones were high and her eyelashes kissed her cheekbones every time she blinked. Her face was slightly flustered, her eyebrows were frowned and he could see barely visible wrinkles near her eyes in her otherwise flawlessly perfect face, indicating laugh lines.
Her lips were ruby red and slightly chewed on, which was bad because hadn't every pureblood been taught that biting lips was unsanitary and a sign of weakness? She bit her lips again —just a little bit— and all he could think about was that she needed to stop doing that. It was an awful habit and unbecoming of a lady.
She's speaking, his mind realised. Her lips were moving sort of hurriedly. Frantically.
He supposed that he could read her lips, but to be honest, he was all too content to just stare into her eyes.
They were green. So incredibly, wonderfully green. Her emotions were put on full display as her eyes captured hundreds and thousands of flashes— nervous, horridness, happiness, sadness, anger and desperation.
Her eyes were green.
Slytherin green.
The same shade as the jewel on his founder's locket. That thought brought some sense into him, but then he relaxed once more.
The locket was safe.
It was with Kreacher. The locket was safe. The madman could die. His plan had succeeded. Sirius —his brother— would live. Maybe he would name his son after him. He would live and be happy. His plan worked. He could die now. Everything was fine. Everybody was perfectly safe.
He looked at her again. More intensely this time.
He could see light cascading around her like a golden blanket.
She looked like a goddess.
He supposed, that if this was the last sight he ever saw, he was thankful to the holy beings.
She was so beautiful.
A smile made its way on his face, a genuine one, as he slowly started to close his eyes in satisfaction.
From the bottom of his now half-closed eyes, he could see the girl get frantic, even more desperate, as she brought her lips down and crashed it to his.
His smile became smug now.
A very attractive girl was kissing him. There were worse ways to die.
So he thought, if this was going to be his last kiss, might as well make it passionate.
He closed his eyes blissfully, slowly bringing his arms around her slim figure and responding to her kiss.
She had wonderful lips.
She pulled away immediately and he was left very disappointed.
Her eyes were wide and her face was flushed, shock visibly seen in her complexion.
She brought her pale, petite hand near his cheek.
She might caress him, softly touch his cheek lovingly and kiss him once again. She might—
SLAP!
His mind was much clearer now, as were the other senses of his body.
He blinked in confusion, his cheeks still stinging from where her hand had connected with his skin. He had no doubt that if he were to look his reflection in a mirror at the moment, he would see a red handprint on his cheek.
He could also read her emotions much better now. What he had previously assumed to be shock, he now realised was barely concealed anger.
She pushed herself off him, her body earlier strangling him in a lover's embrace, and dusted herself.
"Merlin!" she shouted angrily. "I'm trying to save you, and you're trying to kiss me!?"
He coughed for a while, tuning out the girl's rant. He didn't know for how long exactly he coughed. It felt like an eternity. He expelled all the water from his lungs, feeling much better as he took in deep breaths of air.
"...What... " His voice was hoarse and it pained him to speak. But that was all he could bring himself to say as he watched the beautiful girl pace around the cave muttering something about 'stupid male testosterone.'
The cave.
What was she doing here? Nobody knew where he was, and he knew Kreacher would not have said a word about his location. His parents were on a trip in Germany. Nobody knew where he was. The cave was empty when he first came here. How did she come here?
His hands immediately, instinctively reached for his wand and he pulled himself up, the genetic Black paranoia and instincts taking over and feeling a little light-headed.
He held his wand in a tight and steady grip to the girl's graceful neck and managed to croak out, "Who are you?" His voice sounded scarily similar to nails scratching the chalkboard.
The girl tossed him a weary smile. "You look incredibly much like your older brother. The resemblance is uncanny."
His grip tightened on his wand even more so, as his free hand grabbed the girl's wrist in a death grip. His nails pierced through her unmarred skin and red blood bled through slightly. The girl didn't flinch and kept his gaze steadily.
"Who are you?" he repeated. This time more forceful, more regal, more threatening.
The girl replied with another nervous smile, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me," he said, his stormy grey eyes connecting into clear emerald ones.
The girl smiled again, though it came across as more of a grimace, "I'm Ara. Ara Black."
His grip on her tightened even more, if that was possible. "Do you take me for a fool? I knew the Black Family Tree by heart before I was six. There is no Ara Black, there has never been a Ara Black."
"But there will be," the girl chimed. "Born in 1980, as the seventh month dies. The daughter of Lord James Charlus Potter and Heir Sirius Orion Black III via an ancient and slightly illegal blood adoption potion."
His grip loosened on her slightly in shock. Time travelling was impossible, especially so far behind.
"You are lying," he stated.
The girl gave him another grimace. "I told you that you wouldn't believe me." She shook her head before replying, "In the—well, future, I'm the last Black alive. Well, unless you count Draco, but Aunt Cissa says that there isn't a single Black blood in his body. Anyway, I was cleaning up Number 12 Grimmauld Place, when I accidentally opened a casket. It started to suck me inside of it. Kreacher grabbed my hand to try and stop me but it sucked him inside as well. We found ourselves here- in the past.
"Luckily, we were sent to Diagon Alley. We borrowed a newspaper and found out the date and Kreacher remembered that this would be the day you died. So he transported me to this cave and I asked him to go to the Manor and explain everything to his past counterpart. I told him not to come here unless I called. I promised him I was going to save you. You already know the rest."
His wand grip loosened, as well as the grip on her wrist. The Blacks were pretty messed up. It was believable that they would have something as weird and crazy as a time travelling device. But still...
"You still don't believe me, do you?" She asked, noticing the expression on his face. "Very well. It's better to hear the story from someone you are already familiar with. Kreacher!"
A pop was heard. Two pops actually.
He didn't look. He kept his eyes still focused on the girl's. Being a Black meant that you were naturally paranoid.
"Master..." came the voice.
This time he did turn. He knew that voice and all the breaths left him.
It was Kreacher, standing next to an older Kreacher.
The older looking Kreacher still had the huge ears, the grump expression on his face and the superiority look. But his big tennis ball eyes were all foggy as tears freely fell from his face.
The elf ran towards him, forgetting all properity between a House Elf and a Master, and crashed into one of his legs, hugging it tightly.
"Oh Master is alive! Master Regulus is alive!" The older looking Kreacher cried in a mixture of relief and happiness. "Kreacher did what Master said. Kreacher hid the locket. The locket is destroyed, Master, just as Master Regulus wanted!"
"Very good, Kreacher. You did a brilliant job." The words came naturally from him, and a smile grew on his face. "How did you destroy the locket, Kreacher?"
"Oh! Mistress Black did that. She knows. Mistress Black knows." Kreacher replied happily.
Regulus frowned his eyebrows, "Mistress Black?"
"That would be me," came the girl's voice.
Oh... Right.
Regulus lowered his wand slowly and released the girl's wrist.
The girl smiled. "Do you mind..." She trailed off, looking at her slightly bleeding wrist.
Regulus felt slight guilt. What she had said was the truth. She had saved his life. He owed her a life debt.
He pointed his wand at her wrist and muttered the spell. Episkey did the work, and left her hand unmarred once again.
"Thanks," she spoke, smiling.
He nodded. A brief silence enveloped them before Regulus asked, "So, what now?"
The girl hummed in response, slightly confused.
"How do I destroy the locket?" He clarified.
"We," she corrected before sighing. "Horcruxes are not very easy to destroy."
"I know." Regulus grimaced. "And it's horcrux."
The girl shook her head. "No. It's horcruxes."
"There are more? He made more?" He asked, eyes widening and face paling in horror.
The girl —Ara— nodded sadly, "Considering the year, four more to be precise."
"What!" Regulus exclaimed. "That monster split his soul five times!"
"Two more times in the future. Seven times in total," she added casually.
He waited for her to elaborate her statement. She didn't.
He ran his hand through his hair. His mother would have hexed him if she saw him doing such an action.
"What are they?" He asked her. "Where are they?"
Ara gave him another weary smile before pulling out a wand.
A very familiar looking wand, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
She transfigured two nearby rocks into chairs —both green in colour— and gestured for him to sit down. He compiled. After transfiguring two other rocks into stools for the House Elfs, she sat down as well, pocketing the wand.
"You know where the locket is," Ara started slowly, taking his nod as confirmation. "Where we found the other horcruxes in the future, and doesn't that feels weird to say, are, well— We found Ravenclaw's diadem in Hogwarts, in the Room on Requirements or the Come and Go Room as you may also know it."
A nod from him encouraged her to go on.
"Hufflepuff's cup is in your cousin Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. She got it as an inheritance from her dearest mother-in-law, who used to apparently date the Dark Lord back in the day," Ara explained. "We retrieved that from breaking into her vault— don't ask how."
But Regulus did ask, extremely shocked and a little scared, "You broke into Gringotts? You stole something from Gringotts and lived?"
Ara grimaced again. "That's a story for another time," She spoke. "Anyway, the Gaunt's ring is at the Gaunt's shack which is located just outside Little Hangleton or was it the Great Hangleton." Ara paused, as if remembering something. "Never mind, it'll come to me. The last Horcrux is our very own beloved Dark Lord's secret diary. It was given to Lucius Malfoy, passed down from his father Abraxas. It must be in Lord Malfoy's study." she finished.
She allowed him a few minutes to absorb and comprehend everything.
Her eyes gleamed with unspoken mischief —much like his brother's used to— and twinkled brighter than the star his brother was named after as she spoke her next words. "So, I hear you're hunting horcruxes. Mind if I help?"
He couldn't help it.
He laughed.
He laughed like insanity possessed him. He laughed because this situation is technically insane. He laughed at the way his brother's future daughter —his apparent niece— framed her sentences.
"Yes," Regulus replied with a grin.