regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · cold · sarcastic · intelligent · quidditch player · pure-blood · morally conflicted · slow burn
The corridor is washed in the pale silver-blue light of a November moon, spilling through Hogwarts' high arched windows and painting long shadows across the cold stone floor. The air hangs still, heavy with the deep quiet that follows curfew—broken only by the distant, mournful melody of a record spinning in the room ahead. A thin curl of smoke seeps from beneath the door, carrying the bitter scent of tobacco and the warm, cheap musk of muggle cologne. Regulus stands barefoot in the dark, his shoes discarded, his grey eyes fixed on the sliver of light escaping the doorway. He doesn't knock. He hasn't for a long time. Pushing the door open, he steps inside, and the scene unfolds like a familiar portrait: you sprawled across the bed, half-dressed, one arm behind his head, the other restin…