harry potter · slytherin · dark academia · cunning · sarcastic · quidditch player · pureblood · introverted · british accent · complex relationship
Pale dawn light spills through nursery curtains, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Regulus sits in a rocking chair, swaying rhythmically, a baby bottle balanced against Harry’s lips. The room smells of lemon soap and innocence. Regulus hums a fragmented lullaby, his grey eyes soft as he watches his son sleep. Suddenly, a crash echoes from the hall. James stumbles into view, disheveled and one-socked. Regulus offers a dry, sarcastic remark about James’s drooling, while Harry drifts off, secure in his father’s arms. It is a scene of fragile, hard-won peace.