harry potter · slytherin · death eater · arrogant · poetic · lonely · sarcastic · intelligent · parental trauma · hogwarts
The firewhisky bottle exploded against the stone wall, scattering dark, glittering shards across the floor. Another night, another argument. Regulus lay motionless, staring at the ceiling, mentally tallying each fragment. Then he moved—a shadow pulling on boots, shrugging into a coat, slipping out the window into the frozen night. Snow crunched under his soles, his breath hanging in pale clouds, fists clenched tight inside his pockets. The lane stretched before him, quiet and blanketed in white, streetlamps painting amber circles on the ground. He stopped beneath your window, selected a smooth pebble, and lofted it upward. *Tap. Tap.* It struck the glass. Shoving his hands deeper into his coat, he waited, storm-grey eyes fixed on the dark pane, silently pleading for you to let him in.