Author: RavenEcho

Summary: A series of drabbles about regrets. Multi-generational, no particular order. "See how regret, grinning, rises from the deep waters."

Rating: T for mildly disturbing scenes or language.

Prompt is this quote from a French poem, "Recuillement": See how regret, grinning, rises from the deep waters.

**F**T**D**W**

Sirius stared at the lake from the rock he was sprawled on. It was black, black as his name, his hair, even his heart perhaps. Peter was the only one speaking to him. He didn't know how long it would take for James and Remus to break their silence, but it had already been a week since that disastrous full moon, and his mouth had been full of apologies ever since. Even now, by himself in the dark, he had to ask himself how he had been so stupid? This wasn't like breaking his family's hearts when he became a Gryffindor. This was hurting the few people he actually cared about. This was true regret.

-F-T-D-W-

Regulus Black stood in the gloomy cave with faithful Kreacher by his side. The swirling waters seemed to be mocking him, laughing slyly at the regret that clearly marred his handsome face- the regret that had dragged him to this awful place. He picked up the goblet, scooped up the potion, and stared at the choice that was in his hand. He would die from this, he thought, or if not, he would die soon after. The Dark Lord did not suffer fools nor cowards. Regulus Black prepared himself to drink. Perhaps this was the one choice in his life that he wouldn't regret.

-F-T-D-W-

Draco squatted by the lake's edge, rolling up his sleeves to scoop a rock out from the shore and chuck it in the direction of the Giant Squid. He grimaced as the reflection of his Dark Mark flickered upon the black water. As the water rippled, the skull moved. Draco could almost imagine that it was the face of - he shuddered- the Dark Lord. He was staring up at him, laughing at his certain fate. Draco flinched and let his sleeve drop, hiding the gruesome tattoo once again. How could he have allowed this to happen to himself?

-F-T-D-W-

Neville Longbottom kicked a pile of pebbles into the shallow edges of the lake, watching as they fell in one by one with tiny splashes. He plopped down on the bank and caught his head in his hands, gazing out at the dark waters. He was second-guessing all of his decisions so far this year- this strange year in which the Golden Trio was mysteriously absent, and random students were missing, and there were Death Eaters as professors. He was ready, ready and willing, to sacrifice himself in this strange game they now called school. But how- how could he have allowed Ginny, Colin, Dennis, Lavender, anyone else at all, really, to get involved? Harry was going to kill him... If he didn't get himself killed first, that is.

-F-T-D-W-

Teddy Lupin strolled along the edge of the lake with the beautiful perfect Victoire close by his side. He had kissed her for the first time the day before, and ever since she had been looking at him with those big blue eyes like he was a god. She squeezed his hand and purposefully bumped her hip into his side. Teddy stared at the perfect picture they formed in the lake and wondered why his reflection didn't look nearly so happy as hers.

**Author's note: I read this quote in a French poem and immediately loved it. As you can see, it sparked a lot of ideas in my head, so I immediately had to write some down. If there's any interest, I will write more drabbles with the same prompt: requests or suggestions would be accepted gladly! Until next time, please leave me a review, even if it is just a word or two!