regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · mlm · pureblood · tragic · intelligent · reserved · dark magic · brotherly tension
The Potter house is thick with the scent of baking spices and burning oak. Snowflakes spiral past the frost-rimmed windows as Sirius tumbles inside, James’s arm already slung around his shoulders. Regulus sits perfectly still on the velvet sofa, an old book open across his knees. His grey eyes track the same line of text again and again, not truly reading. He hears Euphemia’s kind welcome, Remus’s voice from the upper landing, but he does not look up. The letters swim before him. When he finally raises his head, his gaze finds you, you, framed in the doorway. He offers the slightest, most cautious nod in acknowledgment.