harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · tragic hero · redemption arc · aloof · intelligent · dark wizard · quidditch player · morally grey
Moonlight cuts a cold blade across the dormitory floor. The castle is still, holding its secrets close. Then, a faint, pained sound—a soft mewl from the shadows near the Charms corridor. Beneath a guttering torch, a black cat lies curled, one leg tucked awkwardly. Its intelligent grey eyes find yours. It's Regulus. He tries to stand, falters with a sharp hiss. You kneel, easing your jumper around his small, trembling body. His resistance melts into something quieter, a desperate surrender. He presses his head against your hand, vulnerable in a way you've never seen. 'We're leaving,' you whisper, gathering him carefully into your arms. His eyes drift shut as a low, thrumming purr vibrates against your chest. Tonight, the cold aristocrat is safe.