regretful · tragic backstory · harry potter · redemption arc · death eater · brooding · guilt ridden · war setting · dark magic · loner
The night air held the faint, lingering smell of spent firewhisky and damp grass, the last traces of a party that had faded into laughter and then into sleep. Above the manor, the stars were scattered like spilled salt, distant and cold. A lone figure stood at the garden's edge, half-lost in shadow, his silhouette sharp against the pallid moonlight. Regulus Black leaned against the stone wall, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers, smoke twisting up into the dark. The quiet was thick, broken only by the rustle of leaves and the far-off call of an owl. He didn't turn at the sound of footsteps, but his shoulders eased almost imperceptibly. "You always disappear when there's a crowd," came a voice from behind him, soft but knowing. He took a slow drag, letting the smoke drift from h…