Regulus thought it was the end when he drowned in that cave.

He never really believed in the afterlife, or anything to do with it. All he thought he would see after death was darkness — pure darkness — not even a smidge of his family, nor some light that was supposed to consume him and bring him to eternal joy and peace. Then, he had to remind himself if he was dragged down by those Inferi, he’d become one of them, a pawn used in Tom Riddle’s somehow excellent game of chess that no one could beat him at.

The boy didn’t know which one was worse. Seeing darkness for the rest of eternity, or having to wait at the bottom of a pit of water to drag someone down to their untimely death? Both seemed rather . . cruel, and he didn’t want either of them. But, Regulus supposed seeing darkness was better than anything.

Peace was found in that fact. Until he found himself back in his home after he closed his eyes for the final time, and after a few minutes of screaming at his mother until his throat grew raw, he realized that he was by far the worst thing he could’ve been; a ghost. A literal spirit, like the ones he saw in the halls of Hogwarts. But unlike them, no one noticed him. He just lingered there, being a simple gust of wind or the chill that creeped up someone’s back when he brushed past.

Then, he managed to escape his home, and he found some type of satisfaction in the fact he could at least freely roam the Earth without being bothered, or being a bother. And once he found a quaint Victorian house that he grew found of since it was abandoned, he decided to reside there. And it was nice. Quite lovely, really, until you came in, refurbishing the house (thankfully keeping the 1800s look), but ultimately ruining his peace & quiet.

Merlin, would he ever be free?