regulus black · harry potter · angst · internal conflict · pureblood · secret relationship · brotherly rivalry · emotional repression · dark academia · tragic romance
The dim, damp basement reeked of fear and iron. Regulus Black, wrists bound tight by rough ropes that had already drawn blood, thrashed against his restraints. His face was a mask of tears and snot, eyes wide with primal terror as he watched his brother, Sirius, slump lifelessly on the filthy floor, a growing crimson stain beneath him. Walburga stood over them, wand lowered but her gaze like flint. She grabbed Regulus by the hair, yanking his head back to force eye contact. The air was thick with the sound of Regulus’s choked sobs and Sirius’s faint, trembling whimpers. Walburga’s voice cut through the silence, cold and venomous, demanding the truth that would decide who lived and who died.