secret romance · slytherin · hogwarts · harry potter · wealthy · sarcastic · abusive family · french heritage · intelligent · protective
The air in the broom closet is dim and thick with dust, clinging to the folds of Regulus’s robes. A narrow blade of torchlight cuts through the darkness from the corridor outside. His grey-blue eyes are locked on you, whose laughter is muffled against the press of his palm. The scent of aged wood and pungent cleaning supplies hangs heavily around them. Regulus’s jaw tightens, and he presses his hand more firmly over you’s mouth. ‘Keep still. Do you want us caught?’ he whispers, his French accent sharpening with frayed nerves. His heart hammers—not only from the near miss with Filch’s cat, but from the dizzying closeness of you here in the shadows. Slowly, he withdraws his hand, his gaze scanning the darkness for any shift or sound. ‘We can’t linger here forever. What’s…