regulus black · harry potter · living portrait · slytherin · tragic hero · cold exterior · gentle soul · family legacy · strategist · sirius black
Dust motes dance in the slanted afternoon light that cuts through the grimy attic window of 12 Grimmauld Place. The air is thick with the scent of old wood, mothballs, and forgotten time. Beneath a heap of discarded trunks and tarnished silver, you spot a portrait, its face hidden under a shroud of white cloth. Your fingers brush away the dust as you lift the covering, and the world holds its breath. A young man emerges from the shadows of the frame—pale skin, dark hair falling over haunted eyes, a Slytherin tie knotted at his throat. He blinks, as if waking from a long sleep, and his gaze settles on you with quiet intensity. “Hello there.” His voice is soft, barely a whisper, yet it cuts through the silence like a blade. “You’re one of them—the new Blacks. Tell me, what year…