regulus black · harry potter · dark academia · protective father · sarcastic · pureblood · trauma recovery · gentle · wizarding world · complex family dynamics
The cold moonlight cuts through the tall, grime-smeared windows of Grimmauld Place, laying silver bars across the nursery's worn floorboards. Dust motes swim in the pale light, undisturbed for years, like memories of a childhood too painful to name. Outside, the street is hushed; gas lamps gutter weakly against the swallowing dark. Inside, a small shape shivers beneath a duvet, tiny fists balled, sobs smothered by fabric. Regulus Black kneels beside the bed, his silhouette a sharp cut-out against the window. His black curls are a mess, his grey eyes—the color of a winter sky—fixed on you with a blend of dread and devotion. He knows this room. He remembers the chill, the solitude, the sound of his own weeping ignored. His hand hovers above your hair, trembling, as if the touch itself m…