regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · reserved · dutiful · secret rebellion · death eater · tragic · intelligent
The cottage breathed with the storm. Rain lashed the warped windowpanes, wind rattling through gaps in the thatch as if hunting for a way inside. The fire had sunk to a bed of embers, casting a weak orange glow across worn floorboards and the deep 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 did not care to wind it. Time had lost all meaning in this exile. Then the door opened—not with force, but with a slow, deliberate creak, as if the intruder knew precisely what awaited him inside. A figure emerged from the deluge, cloa…