I stand here alone, framed in the doorway, surrounded by a thick blanket of darkness. The light is no less here than it is in the forest on a moonlit night – and even then, I can see perfectly – but to me if feels foreign and unfamiliar. How long has it been since I last stepped indoors? The air smells stale and cold in my nostrils as I sniff the ground experimentally, hoping to detect signs that my prey has passed though here. It is just as I thought; he has.

The flickering torches barely illuminate the dim hall I am in, but my amber eyes see it all as though it were light. My padded feet are silent against the cold stone floor as I reach the end of the hall, coming to a door. But I have already anticipated this obstacle. I rear onto my hind legs and turn the knob with my mouth, just as I was instructed to. The door swings open without problem, and I am suddenly in a strange, circular room.

I stay rooted firmly to the spot as the wall begins to rotate slowly. I know which one I must take. My mind may still be human, but my senses are those of a wolf: I can easily pick up the scent of my prey, and have no doubt as to which one he took. I wait until the room is still once more before trotting carefully to the chosen door. I give its base a cursory sniff that only confirms my belief – this is the one he entered.

I am on two legs once more, my massive front paws braced against the door as I turn the handle. Within moments, I have entered the next room. It is a strange one, shining with an eerie light reflected off the numerous ticking clocks, but I pay no attention to the scenery around me. My nose is to the floor once more; the odour of my quarry has grown only stronger, and I feel savage anticipation as I realise that my task shall soon be accomplished.

But I must be patient. The steady swish of my tale is in sync with the swinging pendulums as I walk. Tick…tick…tick. The monotonous ticking grates upon my ears, but I do my best to ignore it. My sights and senses are set on the door, halfway down the hall and to my left. My prey has entered this door, and I must follow.

The excitement of the hunt is rushing through my veins as I continue to gaze at the door. It is opened, just a crack, so I throw my shoulder into it and burst inside. A snarl curls my mouth as I enter. I am fully expecting to see my prey waiting before me, but to my dismay there is no one. I have entered a large rectangular room, sloping downward. The scent trail leads to the raised stone dais in its centre. With apprehension I approach it. I know it, I can feel it – this is dangerous.

I pause before the crumbling stone archway on the dais. The black curtain is fluttering within, like a tattered banner in the breeze. But it is not the wind I hear. My hackles raise as the sound reaches my ears; a whispering, a muttering, a breathing. I feel a dread overtake me as I realise where my quarry has gone.

He has gone through the veil.

————————————————————-

My heart is pounding in my broad canine chest as I lower my nose to the ground once more. I breathe in deeply – once, twice – and I am sure. I know what I must do, for I am bound by blood to follow my orders. I cannot fail. Fear rises like bile in my throat as I steel myself – and step beneath the archway, past the fluttering veil, and into...

The other side of the room?

The dread that has built up within me begins to fade as I take stock of my surroundings. I have emerged from the other side of the tattered black veil, still in the same quiet and deathly chamber as before. But something feels... different. It is as though my senses have been dulled; as though I have been cloaked in a thick, moist blanket of darkness, a blanket that has obscured my vision and impeded my senses. It is only when I raise my hands to my failing nose that I realise what has happened. I am a man once more.

All at once, a sort of eerie, mind-numbing panic overtakes me. Never before has this happened to me – I, a man on the full moon? Something is very wrong. I turn, my eyes alight with confusion, to contemplate the veil that has changed me from wolf to man – but it is no longer there.

As I swivel slowly on the spot, I begin to realise that this is not the same room as before. Everything I see is identical to the other room, yet very different at the same time. Shadows are dancing on the faraway walls, looking mesmerizing, inviting. I feel bare and vulnerable without my wand – but even as the thought first hits me, I feel a cool length of wood pressing gently against my thigh. As I pull it free from the pocket of my robes, I realise that this is not my wand... at least, it is not how I remember it.

I hear a voice now; a soft, welcoming whisper, calling to me from afar. Come, it calls to me, come. For a moment I am torn by indecision; but it is so mesmerizing, so persuasive, that I cannot resist. My feet move of their own accord as I seem to float through the chamber, upward toward the doors.

The shadows flitting on the walls grow still as I approach the door. It is made of a strange black substance I have never seen before, and is shut very tightly. I reach out my hand and pause with my fingertips resting lightly on the gleaming jet-black knob. I close my eyes to clear my mind, but the voice has reached an echoing crescendo within my head. I know now that it is coming not from behind the door, but from my mind – from my memory.

And I know – without knowing how – that behind this door awaits something more desirable than I ever knew was possible.

As I step into the chamber, the first thing I notice is the all-encompassing silence. There is no sound; not of my beating heart, my feet against the ground, not even the whispers that called me from the veil room. The walls around me are black as night, yet shimmering with a deadly pale light. My breath catches in my throat as I stride toward the nearest wall, eyes alight with trepidation and fear. For a moment I stare into the glossy blackness of the wall, wondering, fearing...

Suddenly I notice the reflection of a dark shape approaching from behind. I whirl around, cursing whatever mysterious force has deadened my hearing... and see nothing. I am alone in the room, very alone. I turn to face the wall once more and tense up as I realise what it is. It is a mirror, but one of the likes I have never seen before.

My reflection is a ghostly hue of white, starkly contrasting the darkness of the dusky black mirror. Behind me more shapes are approaching, dark and mysterious. They look vaguely familiar — I’m sure I would know them if only I could see their faces! Then one of the figures raises a wand; it speaks no words, but moments later the room has been lit with a blinding flash of silvery light.

My heart is pounding as my mouth forms the words I never thought I would say again. “Mum? Dad?�

They look just as I remember them; their faces are warm and alight with happiness, and their fingers are interlaced as they stare at me with parental pride. No sound can be heard, but I can easily read their lips as they speak to me.

“Fenrir, our son.�

I am suddenly struck with a numbing pain I have not felt in a very long time. It takes me a moment to realise what it is; it is the pain of loss, coming from somewhere deep in the dead region of my body known as the heart.

Their eyes are warm and honest as my mother points silently toward the other side of the room. It hurts me to tear my gaze from their peaceful faces, but I reluctantly turn to face the opposite wall. I am instantly hit with another wave of shock; there, from the opposite wall, I am confronted with my teenage self, clad in dress robes and bearing a graduation scroll. I blink, and the image is replaced with myself and my father, together, laughing under the light of the full moon.

My mind begins to numb; my head is spinning as I attempt to make sense of what is happening. I am no longer sure what is real and what is not. I turn back to my parents in confusion, hoping against hope that they can aid me. But they say nothing. They simply beckon to me. They want me to join them. And I will!

Excitement is pumping through my veins like a venom as I walk up to the cool glass and press my palms up against it. The surface melts into a dark mist as I touch it; I am moments away from slipping into this other world and joining my loved ones for all eternity. But just as I steel myself to plunge into this new dimension, I am jolted back into reality by a burning agony on my left arm. I look down and see the gleaming skull leering at me, daring me to disobey.

Memories come flooding back; I remember now why I must go on. My lord is depending on me, and my quarry is slipping further and further away with every moment waste here. I give my parents one last look before turning my back on them forever.

My mouth forms two words one more, and this time my voice rings out like a church bell on a warm summer’s day.

“I’m sorry.�

————————————————-


As I step into the next room, I feel momentary relief when I realise I have not succumbed to the pull of the black mirror. Seconds later, however, my breath is torn from my throat as a blast of icy terror overtakes me. This room, for lack of a better word, is pitch-black and icy; the iron band crushing my skull and chest is a sensation similar to Apparition, but many times more unpleasant. I feel as though I am falling, plunging downward into blackness, but I cannot tell if I truly am.

This strange feeling of despair is tearing me apart; each breath I take burns my throat and fills me with unearthly pain. I feel my arms move outward of their own accord, and although the room is no lighter than before, I am suddenly able to distinguish my hands protruding from the tattered black folds of my robes. They are scabby and rotting; they smell of death and decay. As the screams of fear rise to an echoing crescendo within my throbbing skull; I suddenly realise what I am becoming.

The sensation of fear within me no longer seems so cold; in fact, it feels warm, inviting. My breath comes out as a deathly rattle as I reach my dead hands up to my face. I am wearing a hood now, one that hides my entire head from view... But I do not have to see my head to realise that this is the room from which Dementors were spawned.

The last shreds of sanity in my mind are fighting a losing battle with the torment in my soul. I want to resist, to fight this terrible force that threatens to end life as I know it, yet at the same time I long to succumb to the darkness. Finally, the latter wins out. I lower my arms, I take a breath, I prepare to embrace an eternity of soulless life... But just as this is about to happen, I am jolted from my agony by a very familiar sound from afar.

I know that sound, I know that howl! Reality comes rushing back once more as I listen to the yelps of the Animagus that is my quarry. Wise of you, Black, resisting the call of the Dementor like such.

My mind is clear now, and I know what I must do. Ignoring the cold hopelessness that surrounds me, I know that, just this once, I shall be able to transform at will. I raise my human head skyward, willing the full moon to shine down and claim me — and my call is answered.

The second I become a wolf, the iron band detaches from my chest and leaves me safe once more. My massive paws, thankfully whole and full of life, are touching the ground; I am no longer plunging into the sea of blackness that once surrounded me. I see dark shapes swirling above me, trying to call me back into their reach, but I am no longer affected. My eyes gleam gold in the darkness as I sniff deeply, trying to locate my quarry. He is further away than I expected, somewhere to my left. It is with great effort that I hear his quiet paw steps from a good distance away; however, this is exactly how I want it. Fervently hoping that he cannot smell me, I trot silently behind him. My glinting white teeth are bared in a carnal smile as I prowl unnoticed behind the Animagus Black. The fun is just about to begin.

I trot quietly to the empty doorframe at the end of the room; however, I do not enter immediately. Even as a wolf I am a quick learner, so it is clear to me that yet another mystery lies behind the door’s seemingly innocent boundaries. I sniff at its base with great apprehension, ever cautious. But I shall not know what lies beyond until I cross the threshold, and I am somewhat heartened to know that whatever fate awaits me will the the same met by the blood traitor Black’s.

My world begins to spin as soon as all four paws touch the cool stone floor. For a moment I am convinced that I am transforming once more; however, I soon notice that my senses are intact. But one thing — just one — is very, very wrong. My world has been turned upside down.

Head spinning, I stand stiffly in place, feeling panic overtake me once again. I breathe in deeply, trying desperately to take stock of my surroundings. I am in a courtroom; of this I am sure. I attempt to dig my claws deeper into the ground, but they simply slide across the cold stone surface; I have two choices. I must either take a deadly risk and raise my paws off the ground, or stay here forever more, hanging here in mortal terror of moving a muscle.

With my heart in my throat, I make up my mind. I decide that my fate has already been laid out before me; what will happen will happen, what will be will be. Embolded, I coil the steely muscles in my legs and pounce forward.

I am fully expecting either to fall into oblivion — to crush myself upon the courtroom benches above me — but I am shocked by... nothing. I land with a quiet thud upon the ground once more, still upside down, still safe. My fear is momentarily allieviated, for I am not dead. But where is my quarry?

Scanning the dark courtroom carefully, I catch sight of a dark mane of hair disappear through a faraway doorway. Now that I see him in his human form, clear as day, I realise that it is true. The traitor Black is not dead.

Throwing caution to the winds, I allow a howl to tear from my throat as I leap toward my unsuspecting quarry. Black has just opened the door when he hears me. Dark hair sweeping behind him, coal-grey eyes staring at me with terror and disbelief, he attempts to swing the heavy wooden door close behind him.

But I am too quick for him. Panic written on his face, he is bowled over my weight; his hands claw uselessly against my powerful canine chest as he attempts to free himself. Suddenly, though, realisation dawns on him — I can see [cut 'it'] in his eyes that he understands.

“Fenrir?�

Before I can decide what to do next, the harsh sound of stone scraping against stone grates upon my ears. Momentarily startled, I am thrown off balance as Black slams his shoulder into my gut, sending me skidding across the floor away from him. My claws scrabble against the cold stone floor as I attempt to right myself, but I freeze as a chilling sight greets my eyes. The door has vanished, and the walls — the walls are closing in!

Black has drawn his wand; it points at me for the briefest of moments until he realises that the room is growing smaller by the second. His eyes flicker back to me momentarily. I know that he is calculating, wondering if I am as big a threat as the rapidly shrinking room. Apparently, he decides that I am not, for he turns his back on me and points his wand at the wall. “Reducto!�

I focus my mind on becoming human once more, and instantly I feel the fur melt away from my flesh. My snout is shrinking and my senses are dulling, but within moments I am standing upright with my wand in hand. I join my foe in his cries. “Reducto!�

But the wall holds firm, completely unaffected by our barrage of curses. For a moment, his grey eyes meet my golden ones, and there is understanding written in our gaze. We must work together in order to survive. My voice is a quiet rasp as I address him.

“What do we do now, Black?�

The panic on his face matches that in my heart as he shakes his head wordlessly. I feel despair rise up within me; the room is hardly larger than a Muggle automobile now, and I am forced to step closer to my foe until we are standing back to back. Both our wands are raised, but not at each other. His breath is harsh and ragged; I suppose mine is as well. I know I will die here, here with my quarry in this shrinking room, and I am filled with sudden acceptance of this terrible fate.

Yet just as the wall is pressing against my chest, so close that I must close my eyes... they vanish. I stagger forward, no longer supported by the wall that has been forcing me upright, and land on all fours on the frigid ground. Gasping for breath, I raise my sweating forehead and attempt to process what has occurred.

I am now standing in what is not a room, but a plane. The floor stretches out as far as my eyes can see, but there are no walls... Nothing to break the bleak openness of my surroundings. Black, too, is rising to his feet, shaking his head in incomprehension. Fingering my wand, I wonder if I should do it now, but decide against it. Escaping this strange world is much more important than fulfilling my orders; in fact, I no longer care about the Dark Lord and all he stands for.

Turning to Black, I give him a crooked grin.

“So we meet again, Regulus.�

Black looks at me with an odd expression written on his face; his eyes are unreadable as he moves his mouth without making a sound. Finally, he is able to speak.

“Yes, Fenrir, we meet again.�

Our past is a long and complicated one, but it is clear that he knows that I am here to complete the task I failed to do so many years ago. However, judging by the scorn in his eyes, he believes that I will not. I ignore this and draw my wand. “Come on.�

We walk across the strange, flat plane side by side, unwilling to turn our backs upon each other. We do not speak, and before long we loose track of time or distance. We — or at least I — see strange, shimmering shapes on the horizon, if there truly can be a horizon in this mysterious dimension.

I am lost in my thoughts when my foot suddenly touches liquid; before I can stop myself, I am plunging into the icy water of a glassy-surfaced black lake. I go several feet under, my mouth full of the frigid liquid, before I am able to get my bearings. I break the surface gasping for air; Black is right beside me. His eyes are wide as he stares at the edges of the lake around us — that is when I realise that walls have formed, slick stone walls, leaving no shore or embankment for us to fly upon.

I do not allow myself to panic. Freeing my waterlogged wand from the pocket of my robes, I tread water strongly as I hold it aloft. “Lumos!�

I am momentarily blinded by the sudden burst of light, but by the time I recover I see that the lake is much shallower than I had thought. Shimmering at its bottom, like a diamond amongst the blackness of a coal mine, I see a single silver key lying on the slick, brick lakebed. I am about to plunge down to retrieve it when I hear splashing off to my left. Black has spotted a door, with a key beside it to boot; relief is evident in his eyes as he nears it. However, with a strange sense of deja vu, I simply watch him fit the key into the lock. It does not turn.

Somehow, I know that the key on the bottom of the lake will not fit as well; I watch Black swim frantically down to retrieve it without much hope. It would be too easy. My legs are growing weary, and the icy air burns in my lungs as I attempt to solve our dilemma. Then, without knowing why, I look up.

There, shinking like the full moon on a dark winter’s night, is the key. I have just raised my wand to summon it when Black emerges from the water, dripping wet and bearing the other key. “Don’t bother,� I say, “it won’t work.�

Black tries nonetheless, but I pay no attention. Somehow, for some reason, my summoning charm is not working. My face is twisted with the effort, but no amount of willpower can break whatever curse is keeping the key aloft. I am beginning to tire more now; my muscles feel heavy and weak while my head seems light as air. Regulus Black, who has discarded the useless key to the bottom of the lake, is clearly as tired as I.

Finally, I can take the bitter silence no longer. “So, Black.� I speak through jaws clenched about my wand, for I must now use my hands to help me keep afloat. “You have kept the secret of your Animagus abilities very well.�

I am simply talking to distract my mind from the painful realisation that I may die here in this room. However, Black is quick to answer.

“Aye, I did. I’m not like my brother, flaunting the fact until the whole world knows. But as soon as I found out what he was, I realised that as an Animagus I would prove invaluable to the Death Eaters. So I learned as well.�

I hear what he says without really listening. A thought has struck me as I stare up at the high ceiling, up at the glimmering key that will save our lives. Then, I turn my wand on him.

Black’s grey eyes shine with panic as he searches for his own wand; but it is floating somewhere on the far reaches of the lake, out of sight. I ignore his fear as I aim my wand directly at his heart; in fact, I relish it as I watch him tremble like a pig before its slaughterer. He closes his eyes as my mouth forms the words...

“Wingardium Leviosa!�

He rises up out of the water, a Black angel ascending from the earthly confines of mortality. His face now registers understanding; I strain with the effor as I keep lifting him, up toward the silvery key. Finally, he is there. He reaches out to snatch it as though it were a Snitch, looking for all the world like a triumphant Quidditch player.

Black lets out a shout as I lower my wand, sending him crashing back to earth with a splash. He rises, spluttering, to the surface, but he is not angry. On the contrary, his face is alight with laughter as he swims with renewed vigor to the door. This time, it swings open on oiled hinges. Black hauls himself up with a primal grunt; moments later, he is lying, gasping for air, on the floor of another chamber. I swim wearily toward him, hoping with every ounce of my being that he will not lock me in here.

He does not; in fact, it is quite on the contrary. Black extends his hand downward to me, and helps heave me up into the other room with good grace.

As soon as I gather my wits and rise to my feet, my wand is in my hand once more. And, again, Black’s face tightens with fear. However, I do not prolong his apprehension. Turning my back to him, so that I am facing the room that was almost our watery grave, I speak out a single word — a single incantation — that will herald a new world of understanding between us.

“Accio!�

As Black’s wand soars gracefully into my hand, I turn, unspeaking, and place it back into his. In that moment, the look that passes between us says it all.

I will not kill him; he will not harm me. And I know, without knowing how, that he has committed the crime that the Dark Lord cited him for.

He has stolen a Horcrux.

My eyes are reluctant to leave Black’s as I contemplate this mysterious Death Eater-turned-hero. For this man before me has — or once had — a piece of my master’s soul within his grasp. It is a strange feeling, standing before him... and I am no longer sure whether I loathe or admire him.

But I force myself to turn and survey the room in which we have entered. I am most surprised to see that it is surprisingly normal. To me, it resembles a sitting room; there is a fireplace, a lamp, and even a pair of homely cushioned armchairs clustered around a wooden coffee table. My aching legs throb with exhaustion as I see them; deciding that there is no harm in taking a break, I turn my back on Regulus and sink tiredly into the nearest chair.

It has been many, many long years since I last sat upon an armchair. The second I touch it, I feel as though I have been engulfed in a warm pocket of air. Never have I experienced comfort so intense and enjoyable; it is almost intoxicating, this relaxation that I feel. With heavy eyes, I watch Black take the seat beside me; instantly, an expression of comfort and bliss crosses his sunken features.

How long we sit there I do not know. Each passing second feels more like an hour... or does each hour seem like a second? In either case, I have never in my life felt greater enjoyment. I begin to forget about the Dark Lord, about my task, about... the Horcrux?

From the dim corners of my mind, I realise how very much I would like to see this artifact. Black — no, Regulus, I think fondly — looks as though he is asleep. Struggling to get my mouth around the words, I awake him with a slowly spoken sentence.

“May I see it?�

I feel as though there is cotton in my mouth, keeping my voice from ringing through, but Black understands nonetheless. With the dreamy expression still on his face, he reaches slowly into the innermost pocket of his robes. I feel a sort of delayed anticipation as he withdraws it... and there, sparkling in his open palm, is the locket!

A searing, blinding flash of pain bursts through me — originating from my left forearm, no doubt — as soon as I catch sight of the shimmering engraved “S�. I leap up from the armchair as though it were covered in hot coals, and as I do so, I am hit with a surge of urgency and adrenaline. With the strange calming charm of the armchair gone from me, I lunge forward and seize the locket from Black’s grasp.

My companion has an expression of polite bewilderment on his face as he continues to stare blankly at his now-empty palm. I ignore this; I have eyes only for the gleaming gold locket clutched in my hand. I cannot believe it: after my failure to retrieve this simple piece of jewelry so many years ago, it is finally in my possession.

The pain in my forearm has somewhat receded; now, the throbbing ache feels almost pleasant to me. The Dark Lord is pleased; this I know. Now, I have only one more thing to do: complete the other task that has been entrusted to me.

I cannot control the strange surge of emotions that overtakes me as I point my wand at my oblivious quarry. Is it admiration —is it loyalty — is it guilt?

But this is a question I am destined never to answer. The flash of green light almost blinds me as I speak the fateful words aloud without emotion.

“Avada Kedavra.�

My eyes show little remorse as I watch Black’s head loll lifelessly down, his eyes dim with death. I feel no regret, but no pleasure either. But it no longer matters; now that my task is complete, I simply long to leave this strange dimension and return to my own world: to my master, to my colony, to my home.

With the locket firmly in my grasp, I step out of the peaceful room into a new chamber, a very strange one. The moment both feet touch the ground, a strange floating sensation takes over me. I feel oddly detached from myself... oddly light and free. Suddenly, I realise what has happened. I am no longer in my body.

I — or at least my consciousness — am floating up near the ceiling, staring down at my stiff, upright body on the ground. My first reaction is one of spite; this is a simple charm, one I learned the counter charm to many years ago. I shan’t need my wand to perform it; just my mind. However... with a surge of panic, I realise that I no longer remember the spell.

I wrack my mind for the memory, but I cannot find it. What can I do? Then, I notice that there are strange symbols and writings on the walls; with renewed hope, I go to investigate. They are written in a foreign tongue, but I am lucky to recognise them. Inwardly grateful for the Study of Ancient Runes class I took so long ago, I quickly decipher the phrase repeated on the walls. With a deep breath, I speak the words clearly in my mind.

Regresa Corpus!

In an instant, all bodily sensations come flooding back. My mind is momentarily numbed, but I am quick to recover myself. With a sigh of relief, I clench my hand tightly around the Horcrux, relieved that it is still in my possession. With renewed hope and vigor, I set off to the next door.

I know not what other challenges await me in this strange dimension; I know not how I shall return to my own world. Yet somehow, deep within me, I am certain that I shall prevail. I have completed my master’s will, and I will be rewarded.

I have prevailed.