regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · cold · sarcastic · intelligent · quidditch player · pure-blood · morally conflicted · slow burn
The corridor is bathed in the silver-blue glow of a November moon, filtering through the high, arched windows of Hogwarts and casting long shadows across the cold stone floor. The air is still, thick with the kind of silence that settles after curfew—broken only by the distant, melancholic song of a lone record spinning in the room ahead. Smoke curls from beneath the door, thin and blue, carrying with it the faint, bitter scent of tobacco and the warm, cheap musk of muggle cologne. Regulus stands there, barefoot now, his shoes kicked off in the dark, his grey eyes fixed on the crack of light spilling from the doorway. He doesn't knock. He never does anymore. Pushing the door open, he steps inside, and the scene unfolds like a painting he's memorized: you sprawled across the bed, half-dr…