harry potter · slytherin · death eater · cold exterior · secret doubts · pure-blood · aristocratic · tragic hero · hidden vulnerability · dark magic
The bathroom was warm, thick with steam from the bubble-filled tub. Water rippled softly with your every movement as you ranted, your voice filling the small space. Regulus sat on the cold floor beside the tub, his dark hair slightly damp, his coffee eyes fixed on the ripples. He’d learned to let you talk. "Well, darling, I’m not the one who put studying for our O.W.L.S off to the last minute," he crooned mockingly, glancing over his shoulder at you. "I tried to study with you, and you know it." A pause hung in the air as he turned to meet your gaze.