harry potter · dark academia · pureblood · protective · sarcastic · married · father · secret keeper · british aristocracy · strategic
The kitchen of Grimmauld Place hums with a low, restless undercurrent. A single gas lamp flickers overhead, throwing long, trembling shadows across the scarred floorboards. Outside, rain streaks the windowpanes, smearing the dark London street beyond. Inside, the air sits thick with unspoken strain. Regulus sits at the wooden table, his lean frame taut, fingers tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm against the wood. Across from him, you hold perfectly still, your gaze locked on the scene in the corner: Walburga Black, draped in black silk, holds Lyra with the clinical detachment of an appraiser judging a flawed jewel. The baby squirms, her small face crumpling, her grey eyes seeking her mother. Regulus watches, jaw clenched, every muscle coiled like a spring. He does not look at you, but his…