He was floating in nothing and darkness and the freezing cold of death, a spirit wrapped in the agony of those whose lives were cut short, and yet there was a sense of peace as well.

He was vaguely aware of others like him, also floating in the nothing. Of limbs brushing against his own in a dead-like grip that was more a limp caress than an acknowledgement from another entity.

But none of them seemed to care for one another. Not even their own names, much less eachother's.

There was no need for them to remember.

A slow building wail alerted him of something happening in the grand scheme of the nothing, the voices of a thousand nameless others in distress as they tried to swim away from a beam of the brightest golden light he could remember seeing its warmth permeating everything in its path and enveloping him in the smell of flowers and honey and sunlight, a familiar smell.

He opened his eyes, pained by the brilliance of the light, yet comforted by it until words trickled to his aching tongue and a sudden awareness made him move voluntarily for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

"Cissa..." he whispered, reaching with his hand for the light.

"Please..." the light seemed to whimper. "Please, my baby boy... Protect my baby boy..."

"Cissa... " he moaned, feeling a tightening inside of him. "What..."

"Please," the light continued to plead. "My life for yours... My baby is all alone... Please..."

He didn't understand, he barely knew the name of this melancholic voice - he didn't even remember his own name - but the urgency and the anguish, the way the light seemed to dindle with its desperation.

He found himself nodding.

The light tittered for a moment before his eyes, blurring in and out of existence.

"Thank you... Thank you..." it whispered weakly, almost inaudible and then blared out so bright the wails around him rose in volume and despair.

He closed his eyes against it, shielding his face with his hands.

And then everything went dark.

He opened his eyes in what felt like centuries later and only seconds at the same time at the same time his back curled forward with a gasp, his voice hoarse, his throat painfully parched as he vomited stale water and vile, his limbs soaked and freezing started to tremble as he struggled to hold himself upright and failed time and time again, desperation and madness filling his every movement until his numb fingers managed to grasp onto something sharp and hard and as cold as ice and he hoisted himself out of what seemed a liquid made out pure darkness.

He heaved and chocked, breathing into the moist, stale air around him as if it was the sweetest ambrosia, his shaking body sprawled in the hard stone island, teeth chattering against eachother as he struggled to regain his sense of self.

There was a word about to burst from his lips, a word that meant security and laughter in his damaged psyche, the small of sugary treats and warm blankets still smelling like soap and sunlight.

His eyes clenched shut violently.

"K... K..." he muttered, struggling with his unresponsive body. "Krea... cher..."

A snapping of air roared loudly in his sensitive ears, making his body coil unto itself for protection at the same time as spider-like fingers, bony and warm with the glow of magic, sized him by his trembling shoulders with delicate reverence.

"Master Regulus," a squeak of a voice cried in shock. "Master Regulus is back with Kreacher!"

Regulus...

His name was Regulus...

The lion Regulus...

His name was Regulus Black and...

For a moment in time he had been dead.

"Let Kreacher bring Master Regulus home," the voice whispered gently, skeleton-thin fingers carding through his soaked hair.

He nodded and felt the pull from inside of him as he was transported from the dark cave that had previously been his grave.

The following weeks saw him slowly regain his sense of self and mobility. Kreacher's gentle encouragement and constant care seemed to bring back most of the memories of the life he had once lived.

How many things had changed since his disappearance, he thought.

The Dark Lord was dead, killed by the child fate had chosen as his equal - the irony.

His mother and father had fallen ill and succumbed to their age not long after, most likely their heartbreak over the loss of their family and their beloved Master.

... His older brother had turned traitor to his best friend and was now residing in Azkaban for his betrayal, alongside his cousin Bella and the other Death Eaters.

Which meant he and Narcissa were the last ones left.

Once he felt strong enough to walk, he sent for his cousin Narcissa, as it had obviously been her magic that had thrust him back from the dead - only to have his caretaker and friend pull on his long ears in distress and pull an aged cut out from The Prophet.

Regulus felt his knees falter as he read the headline.

MALFOY FAMILY SLAUGHTERED BY LIGHT SIDE ZEALOTS!

He ravenously read the report of former aurors embittered by the light sentence the Malfoy patriarch had been given, had stormed Malfoy Manor with their wands at the ready and proceeded to slaughter each and every member of the household until no one remained.

... no one, that is, except for Lord and Lady Malfoy's only son and heir, Draconis Malfoy, age three.

Regulus felt a sad scowl curl his lips as he realized why his cousin's magic, her golden, wonderful energy reached out to him.

She had been dying, she was was attacked and she was dying, knowing she was leaving her only son behind and, being a Black, had reached through their blood connection, the blood magic that bound their family together, to the one remaining relative that could actually take her place.

"Kreacher," he whispered, his hands balling into fists. "Bring me my cane, please, I need to go out."

The elf's eyes widened, his own hands nervously clutching his pillowcase. "Is Master Regulus sure?"

The young man nodded, his eyes downcast.

"Yes," he said, his mind already starting to plot his next move. "I need to go look a friend of mine up.

The elf nodded, slowly walking towards the reading room.

"Also," Regulus called, his eyes glinting with determination. "Prepare the guestroom in the second floor. We will be needing it soon enough."