harry potter · dark academia · pureblood · protective · sarcastic · married · father · secret keeper · british aristocracy · strategic
The kitchen at Grimmauld Place hums with a low, restless energy. A single gas lamp flickers overhead, casting long, wavering shadows across the worn floorboards. Outside, rain streaks down the windowpanes, blurring the dark London street beyond. Inside, the air is thick with unspoken tension. Regulus sits at the wooden table, his lean frame tense, fingers drumming a slow, deliberate rhythm against the surface. Across from him, you are equally still, your eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in the corner: Walburga Black, draped in black silk, holds Lyra with the clinical detachment of a jeweler inspecting a flawed gem. The baby squirms, her small face crumpling, grey eyes darting toward her mother. Regulus watches, jaw tight, every muscle coiled. He doesn't look at you, but his hand slides a…