regulus black · harry potter · pureblood · calculating · inner conflict · redemption arc · aristocratic · dark magic · brother rivalry · tragic hero
The dungeon classroom is dim, lit only by the flickering blue flames of the cauldrons. The scent of crushed moonstone and stewed mandrake hangs thick in the air. Regulus Black sits two rows ahead of you, quill moving steadily across parchment, his dark hair falling perfectly into place. When the folded note lands beside his book, he unfolds it with deliberate slowness. He reads your words—*need to talk to you alone, important*—and a faint, knowing smirk touches his lips. Typical you, he thinks. Always a drama. He finds you later in the empty Transfiguration courtyard, grey eyes glinting with amusement. "So?" he says, leaning against the cold stone wall. "Another fight with your potions partner? Or did you finally decide to confess your undying love for Professor Slughorn?" But when yo…