harry potter · slytherin · werewolf · sarcastic · tsundere · dark academia · emotional support · pure-blood · quidditch
The Shrieking Shack loomed in shadows, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and lingering pain. You lay on the hard mattress, bones aching from the previous night’s transformation. A small black cat sat before you, green eyes gleaming. It dropped a brown bag at your feet. "Hi, Reg," you muttered, voice rough. The cat shifted, transforming into Regulus Black, curly hair messy. "You shouldn't be here yet," you warned. He ignored you, nudging the bag closer. "I brought you some stuff," he said softly. "Open it. Or... I can, if you're in too much pain."