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Yesterday he and all of the other students that didn’t stay at Hogwarts during winter break came back to school.
The whole castle was erupting with voices of excited teenagers who were chatting about how their break went. Everyone seemed to still be in a Christmas mood, or what was supposed to be Christmas mood. It’s not like he would even know would he?
In his house definition of this event was slightly different. Well maybe a little bit more than slightly. Christmas in the Black family meant going to some too fancy banquet which was full of rich, pureblood witches and wizards with whom it's good to be in a good terms with.
In reality it meant that he would sit for few hours politely smiling and noding, occasionally laughing where it was required, listening to pureblood aristocracy either spreading the Voldemort propaganda or proudly talking about how rich they were.
The pure definition of having a mask on. The problem was he had a mask on his whole life, it was his choice of form of cooping with his family abuse and their demands to be perfect ever since he remembered, just like a true Black heir.
You see, his family was abusive, it wasn’t something uncommon among pureblood families, and he was a victim too. He like his brother had received tortures for the smallest mistakes even as a child, but no one ever treated him like one, because he unlike his brother choosed to wear the mask of ‘perfect son’. He had chosen the path of constantly pretending in hope that’ll help him survive. Did it help? He wasn’t sure, but after all these years with the mask on it seemed to blend into his skin, he didn’t even know who he was anymore.
Everytime he looked in the mirror he saw someone he hated. He saw coward, who didn’t have courage to live like he wanted, who didn’t have courage to leave like his brother did. Even though he knew that he didn’t have that ‘privilege’ anymore, since if he left his family would be left without the heir so they would eventually found him. Maybe that’s why he hated Sirius so much, because he took this chance away from him. But at the same time he didn’t, he knew the older boy had something to live for. In opposition to him, Regulus had nothing. Not even a single thing, not a single person that cared about him.
He didnt even recognised his reflection anymore it looked like ghost of his past self. Skeletal figure with visible bags under their eyes, with the stare so empty that it seemed like it belonged to a dead man instead of 16 year old boy. There was just a body left with no soul. Empty shell with nothing inside.
At this point he was soulless, he was sure of it. The only thing he felt was numbness with occasional breaks for hatred either towards himself or the rest of the world. That was the only thing he was good at-hating, he also liked to blame, for every minor inconvenience in his life he found someone that he would blame for that. He blamed James Potter the golden boy of gryffindor for taking his brother away, he blamed his brother for abandoning him, not only the day he ran away, but the day Regulus was sorted into the slytherin, he blamed his parents for being shitty people and making his life miserable. He thought he hated every person he blamed, but in reality he didn’t.
The only person he truly hated was himself. It was slowly getting to the point where it would become unbearable. And when his mother told him that soon he would have the ‘honor’ of taking the dark mark, he knew that it would be the breaking point.
Maybe he didn’t look like he would mind, but in reality he didn’t want to go that low. And for once in his life he decided to do something about it.
That’s why now he was standing in front of the black lake. He was perfectly aware that he couldn’t swim for shit, he hated that.
But he’ll die like he lived doing the thing he hates.
Ironic isn’t it?
He chuckled under his breath. That was the first time he laughed in months, it was also going to be the last
time he laughed ever
He jumped.
Then he felt cold water surrounding him, firstly he took a few sudden breaths, he felt water suffocating him.
He lost consciousness.
For the first time in his life Regulus Black had peace.