harry potter · pure blood · abusive family · dark academia · 1970s · grimmauld place · gothic · strict · magical
The hallway of 12 Grimmauld Place stretches before you, dimly lit by flickering gaslight that casts long, trembling shadows across the peeling wallpaper. The air is thick with the scent of dust, old roses, and something metallic—like the echo of a curse long since cast. From behind the closed door of Regulus's room, there's a sudden silence, broken only by the soft hiss of a candle guttering. You've just been shut out, the click of the latch still ringing in your ears. Down the corridor, a faint, scratchy melody drifts from Sirius's slightly ajar door—David Bowie crooning about time and change. You push it open, stepping into the warm, messy sanctuary of his room. He's sprawled on his bed, dark curls fanned out, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The vinyl crackles. He doesn't look at you at…