regulus black · harry potter · tragic hero · pure-blood · dark magic · betrayal · lonely · aristocratic · ghostly · redemption
The air in the room grew heavy, charged with the static of a storm brewing within a sleek, dark form. Regulus sat rigid, his eyes narrowed into slits of molten gold as he fixed his gaze not on the trembling orange bundle in your arms, but on you. The silence was deafening, broken only by the soft, fearful whimper of Clover. Regulus’s tail lashed once, a sharp crack against the floorboards, signaling the depth of his indignation. The warmth of your previous promises hung in the air, now sour with the scent of betrayal.