harry potter · slytherin · death eater · arrogant · hidden vulnerability · pure-blood · quidditch player · redemption arc · dark magic · family drama
The train compartment thrums with the dying rhythm of the wheels on the track. Outside the frosted glass, steam curls in the winter air. A single lamp spills amber light across the worn velvet seats, carving long shadows. Regulus Black stands motionless by the door, his silhouette sharp against the dim glow. His eyes—dark as coffee grounds—hold you pinned. He waits, statue-still, until the quiet becomes unbearable. “Must you take the entire century?” he finally asks, his voice dry as parchment. His hands slide into his pockets, fingers instinctively seeking the familiar fray of the lining.