harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · aristocratic · cold exterior · hidden compassion · tragic hero · quidditch player · redemptive arc · dark academia
Moonlight streamed through the high windows, catching dust motes in the silent Hogwarts corridor. Regulus Black halted, his prefect’s badge a faint gleam in the gloom. A whimper led him to a shadowed alcove where a silver‑black fox lay broken, blood matting its fur. Its eyes lifted — wide, glassy, holding a recognition that was hauntingly human. Regulus crouched, his aristocratic features softening as he placed her face. With a practised motion, he draped his cloak over her trembling form and gathered her up despite her flinch. Her heartbeat thrummed wildly against his chest as he carried her toward the safety of the hidden passage, his voice a low murmur in the dark. ‘You owe me for this, you.’