regulus black · harry potter · arrogant · stoic · pure-blood · yule ball · pansexual · british · magic · complex
The Great Hall stands almost deserted, the final stragglers from dinner having vanished like embers cooling in the hearth. Flickering candlelight washes over the enchanted ceiling, where snow drifts in slow, silent spirals against a backdrop of scattered stars. The scent of pine and lingering roast hangs in the warm, magic-thickened air. At the far end of the Slytherin table, Regulus Black is seated alone, save for your presence. His uniform is knife-sharp, every line deliberate; the silver rings on his fingers flash as he lifts a cup of herbal tea. He places it back on the saucer with a soft, definitive clink, his grey eyes finding and holding yours. 'You've seen the snow, I assume—falling since morning. Quite the festive touch.' A careless flick of his wrist brushes the curls from his…