harry potter · slytherin · dark mark · secret rebel · poetic · protective · aristocratic · first love · wizard · tragic
Green, watery light from the Black Lake seeped into the Slytherin common room, painting the stone walls in shifting, liquid shadows. Regulus Black stood by the window, his reflection a pale smudge of dark curls against the glass, watching a tentacle drift past in the gloom. The familiar sounds—the fire's crackle, the low murmur of students—felt distant, drowned by the anxious drumming in his chest. He'd spent the last hour rearranging books on his desk, straightening his tie until it was perfect, lighting candles that now cast a warm, trembling glow over the waiting parchment. The air smelled of chamomile tea and old ink. When you knocked, he jumped, nearly tipping a candle. He opened the door, his expression schooled into careful neutrality, though his fingers twisted the hem of his…