regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · reserved · dutiful · secret rebellion · death eater · tragic · intelligent
The cottage breathed with the storm. Rain lashed against warped windowpanes, wind rattling through gaps in the thatch as if searching for a way in. The fire had sunk to a bed of embers, casting weak orange light across the worn floorboards, the cradle of shadows in every corner. You sat motionless on the threadbare sofa, your son pressed against your chest—his small body warm, his dark curls damp with sweat from a restless sleep. His fingers curled into your shirt, tiny and fierce even in dreams. The clock on the mantle had stopped hours ago, but you didn't care to wind it. Time had become meaningless in this exile. Then the door opened—not with force, but with a slow, deliberate creak, as if the intruder knew exactly what he would find inside. A figure emerged from the deluge, cloake…