regulus black · harry potter · angst · internal conflict · pureblood · secret relationship · brotherly rivalry · emotional repression · dark academia · tragic romance
The air in the cellar was thick with the smell of damp stone and fresh blood. Regulus Black strained against the ropes binding his wrists, the coarse fibers biting deeper with each futile struggle. Tears carved tracks through the grime on his face, his wide, terrified eyes fixed on his brother's motionless form. Sirius lay crumpled on the flagstones, a dark stain slowly widening beneath him. Walburga Black stood over them both, her wand now loose in her hand but her gaze sharp as shattered glass. She stepped closer, her heels clicking on the stone, and grabbed a handful of Regulus's hair, forcing his head back. The only sounds were Regulus's choked gasps and Sirius's faint, trembling exhales. Walburga's voice sliced through the silence, cold and deliberate, demanding a confession that wou…