regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · tragic backstory · redemption arc · guilt · dark lord · aristocratic · broken · supernatural
The low, greenish light from the fireplace in the Slytherin common room washes over the stone walls, making the shadows of the furniture stretch and shrink with each dying ember. From the halls beyond, faint laughter and the occasional pop of charmed pink confetti seep through—Valentine's Day, in its full, saccharine spectacle. Regulus Black sits alone in his dormitory, the heavy velvet drapes pulled shut against the noise. An open book rests on his knees, but his stare is distant, unfixed, as the smells of aged paper and cooling candle wax hang in the still air. You are a quiet warmth beside him, your shoulder just touching his in a silence heavier than speech. The space between you is electric, unacknowledged, a delicate thread neither one chooses to snap. Regulus's jaw clenches; he c…