Unintended

Unintended

"You should be my unintended

Choice to live my life extended..."

Unintended, Muse

Prologue: Unintended Consequences

The first time he saw her, the first person he'd seen since he landed in this place forever ago, hunched over in a barren field with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, he thought she was aglow. A child made of starlight, fallen into an indescribable place.

"Where are we?" Regulus asked, sitting down across from her. "Is this heaven?" He knew he had died, dragged under and ripped apart by the walking dead. He hoped they hadn't figured out, however, the little switch he had pulled with one of the Dark Lord's horcruxes. It'd serve them right when they did.

She shook her head, a sad and wistful expression on her face. "This isn't heaven. S'not hell either. Not quite sure where we are."

Regulus reached over and grasped her hand, making a silent promise.

* * *

"What's that on your arm?" the girl asked him one day. They were walking without aim at this point, tromping across the barren land filled with spindly, thorny dead trees and a lot of grey, dusty soil under their feet.

They noticed other people walking as well, folk muggle, wizard, and some not quite human. Everyone was moving in a displaced daze, trying not to come in contact with the others. They didn't quite seem to know what they were doing there either.

Regulus pulled his sweater down over the Dark Mark. It hadn't blazed since that night; in fact, now it just seemed like a powerless tattoo, dull ink jabbed into pale skin. "Nothing," he eventually said. "Just a remnant of a previous life."

* * *

They found a city eventually, after countless wanderings. Was it weeks, months, years, or maybe just a few minutes? Neither one of them was sure.

Regulus felt the city reminded him of the London he had only seen from a distance, looking out the grimy attic windows of Grimmauld Place on smoggy nights to watch the ekeltric lights glint off of buildings of brick, metal, and glass. Samantha gaped in awe, but could feel a sort of chill in the personality of the nameless city.

They appropriated a large, abandoned apartment in a mirror-glass high rise, with Regulus using magic to furnish rooms for them. The thought of keeping wizardry a secret seemed a moot point here, where all the worlds seemed to blend into a colorless mesh.

On their third day in the flat Samantha stood at the window, looking out over the cityscape. "When I was really little," she said, her American accent still slightly startling to his ears, "I think I went to New York City. I thought it was the most magical and wonderful place I had ever been. Everything just...hummed with life, you know? This place kind of reminds me of it, but something isn't right. It's too quiet."

* * *

Regulus watched as Samantha grew, surprisingly. He'd learned that she'd died when she was fourteen, only a few years younger than he had been when he'd been killed. Her soul was far older though, with something ancient peeking out through her hazel eyes. The physical part of her matured to meet her mind, leaner and more angular, becoming almost as tall as he was. It was nice to be on equal grounds with her in that way. In this lonely place he was extremely glad that he had found her.

* * *

"Are you that sure we're dead?" Samantha asked one night, sprawled out on the couch.

Regulus looked up from his seat on the floor in front of the fireplace. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't remember dying," she frowned, flipping over onto her stomach to stare into the flickering orange and red flames. "I remember being in a hospital bed, hearing footsteps coming down the hallway towards my room, and then waking up in that field. I never imagined dying would be like that."

Regulus turned back to the fire, idly moving his fingers back and forth through the dancing flames. It should have burned him. "I remember full well how I died. It was a bloody mess, pardon the pun. I was torn apart by Inferi."

"Inferi?"

"Zombies, basically. I imagine I was nearly unrecognizable by the time they were done."

Samantha slipped off the couch and crawled behind him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Not your fault. At least I died knowing I'd done something right in my life for once."

* * *