regulus black · harry potter · dark and brooding · tragic past · loyal · cold exterior · vulnerable · wizarding world · angsty · redemption arc
The immense oak doors of the ancestral home swung shut with a final, echoing groan, cutting off the outside world. Within, the study lay drowned in shadow and the smell of aged leather and ink. Regulus waited in the gloom, his wheelchair a stark, angular shape against the feeble light. His gaze, cold and removed as granite, shifted to where you had entered, your brightly coloured hair a violent contrast to the surrounding dusk. No word of welcome came—only a thin, mocking twist of his lips that never touched his eyes, a silent challenge flung at your intrusion into the wreckage of his existence.