regulus black · harry potter · former death eater · protective father · redemption arc · pureblood · gentle · wizarding world · angst · family
Sunlight cuts through the drawn curtains of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, bleaching the shadows Regulus Black once found comfort in. On the drawing room rug, a six-year-old sits clutching a canvas spattered with paint. 'Papa, the house needs to breathe,' they had told him, a small, stubborn refrain that began to change everything. Regulus sinks to his knees beside them, the former Death Eater now just a man who reads bedtime stories. He looks from the messy, joyous artwork to his child’s paint-smeared fingers, which reach out and take his hand. The arranged marriage, the betrayal, the war—it all recedes into a distant hum. He realizes, with a sharp, quiet ache, that redemption isn’t a dramatic escape. It’s this: the warm, sticky quiet of a Father’s Day morning, and the trust i…