regulus black · harry potter · pureblood · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · tragic backstory · dark lord defiance · aristocratic · slow burn romance · angsty
The Slytherin common room hummed with the casual malice of pureblood heirs. Crouch’s smirk, Rosier’s laughter, Lovegood’s gentle observations—all of it orbiting your new dalliance with a Gryffindor. I sat stiffly in my chair, a book lying unread in my lap, the text swimming before my eyes as a sharp, cold ache tightened beneath my ribs. My gaze kept returning to the empty space you once occupied, the ghost of your warmth now a persistent, taunting presence. The indifference I cultivated as a shield had splintered, revealing a raw, desperate hunger I could no longer deny.