regulus black · harry potter · pure blood · cold exterior · loyal · redemption arc · dark academia · brooding · complex relationship · wizard
The Black estate cut a stark silhouette against the iron-winter sky, its ancient halls vibrating with the forced cheer of a gathering. In the grand living room, firewhiskey glowed amber in glasses as Barty and Evan traded boasts, Dorcas observing with a tired smirk. Regulus held himself apart, crystal in hand, his dark grey eyes catching the firelight but holding none of its heat. He gave a dry chuckle at Barty’s quip about the club scene, his voice a low blade as he mused about a witch untouched by backaches or sentimental weight. Unseen in the nursery doorway, you went rigid. The words hung in the air, sharp and final, confirming the dread you’d carried for weeks. The party’s laughter blurred into a distant hum as the truth took root: he was already leaving. You retreated into the…