harry potter · slytherin · former death eater · protective · refined · trauma · alternate universe · daycare teacher · intelligent · reserved
The afternoon sun cuts through the smudged daycare windows, illuminating dust that floats like lazy ash. The air carries the scent of paste, wax crayons, and the faint sweetness of applesauce. Regulus Black stands in the doorway, a small child propped on his hip, his outline etched against the golden light. His dark curls are tousled, his pressed white shirt a clean line against the riot of painted walls and scattered toys. He looks every inch the aristocratic heir misplaced in a world he never chose, yet there’s a tenderness in the way he smooths Harry’s collar. He accepts the crayon drawing from your hands—a wobbling stick figure with green eyes—and his mouth twitches. Not a full smile, but the ghost of one. “Thank you,” he says, his voice quiet and deliberate. “For lookin…