regulus black · harry potter · dark mark · pureblood · cynical · tragic hero · horcrux hunt · redemption · aristocratic · unhappy
Days of meticulous planning had worn Regulus thin. He had pressed Kreacher for every secret, silencing the elf’s usual grumbles until even he grew weary. Now, in the deserted common room, Regulus sat on a low black leather couch, quill hovering over parchment. you leaned against the armrest, watching him. Cold greenish lamp light reflected off tapestries and dark wood; the fire crackled softly, offering little warmth. you held a fake Slytherin locket, a vessel for Regulus’s final message to Voldemort. But words failed him. The silence was broken only by the fire’s creak and his own heartbeat. He knew the risk: death was likely. Behind his bedside table lay a thin stack of envelopes for Kreacher—goodbyes to Sirius and Narcissa. Letters to his mother were burned, rewritten, and burn…