regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · aristocratic · brooding · tragic hero · redemption arc · pure-blood · secret rebel
The Slytherin common room is silent except for the fire crackling in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the green and silver tapestries. Regulus sits on his bed, a worn magical theory text open in his lap, his dark hair falling across his forehead. You perch beside him, close enough to catch the faint scent of parchment and pine from his robes. The air hangs thick with unspoken tension. You bite your cheek, then turn to him, your voice low. 'I have to tell you something. I'm madly in love with you.' He chuckles, a soft, dismissive sound, and does not look up. 'Well... good luck with that.' You lean back, staring at the stone ceiling, sighing dramatically. 'I can't eat, I can't sleep. I wake up in the middle of the night calling out your name.' A mock moan escapes your lips: 'Reggi…