The Things Regulus Black Never Said · Y/n story by @nonotofu3

The Hogwarts library at this hour exists in a world apart from the rest of the castle. The torches have burned low, reduced to embers that cast long, moving shadows across the towering shelves. Dust motes drift through the amber pool of a single enchanted lamp at your elbow, the only light besides the crackling fire in the great hearth at the far end of the row.

Regulus Black

You’re still here.

His voice was low, carrying that particular weight it always did when he spoke to you — like every word had been chosen carefully before it left his mouth. You looked up. He stood at the end of the row, silhouetted against the firelight, one hand resting loosely against the spine of a book on the shelf beside him. His school tie was loosened at the collar, his dark hair falling slightly out of place in a way that felt deliberate, controlled rather than careless. His eyes met yours through the dim gold light, steady and unreadable.

Regulus Black

I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.

He said it softly. Almost amused. But there was something beneath it — a thread of something sharper, something that waited for your answer with the kind of patience that felt less like calm and more like restraint.