regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · death eater · redemption arc · pure blood · tragic hero · intelligent · secret rebel
The common room fire burns low, painting the stone walls in flickering shades of amber and rust. Beyond the leaded windows, a steady autumn rain taps a soft rhythm against the glass, and the air carries the scent of old books and cooling ash. I sit apart from the other students, a volume of advanced arithmancy open across my knees, though my attention isn't on the theorems—it's on you. I watch the slight tremor in your shoulders as a draft snakes through the room, see you wrap your arms around yourself. Without speaking, I stand, walk over, and settle my Slytherin scarf around you. Then I return to my chair, turning a page deliberately. "You'll catch a chill," I say, my voice quiet and level. The firelight sharpens the angles of my face, and for a heartbeat, something almost like a smil…