How Could Anyone Not Love This Silly Little Guy?

𝐋𝐄𝐄 - 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋

🌟 = Fluff, 🪐 = Angst, ✨ = mild spice, 🎬 = hurt/comfort

{𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝} → open ! || requests are usually open unless they get too much, then I will turn them off so that I could finish other requests ! ||

ONE-SHOTS:

Forever you 🎬🌟 - Lee is cursed with immortality, and he finds Y/N's reincarnation every time.

SERIES:

(not yet available)

BLURBS :

(not yet available)

my fav sang rn is melancholy hill by gorillaz. it's been in my head for WEEKS such a good song :)

event; profile; nav; hi anon!! thank you for sending in this request. it is a pretty good song. once again, it gave me angsty vibes...

it also gave me regulus vibes, i have no idea how, or where, but it just gave me reggie vibes. ITS ALSO VERY VERY LONG

song: melancholy hill, gorillaz slytherin boy: regulus black.

SINCE day one, he had always been your best friend. growing up in a strict, pureblood household was not easy.

especially with your six, younger siblings behind you, and a limited amount of gold in your parents' vault at gringotts.

unfortunately, that meant being betrothed to someone you hardly knew; at the young age of eleven.

your fate was sealed, the moment you got your letter to hogwarts.

augustus rookwood.

his name was augustus rookwood.

your future husband's name.

currently studying in durmstrang, and four years older than you, rookwood came from utmost wealth, which meant good news for your family should you marry him.

support for all your younger siblings.

and so, with this dark cloud of an eventually arranged marriage hanging over your head, you set foot into hogwarts, at the age of eleven.

naturally, you were sorted into slytherin. coming from a long line of slytherins, how could you be sorted into any other house??

being the oldest of seven, you had always been shadowed by the rest, and you often used to find yourself curled up on the chaise lounge with a book whilst you were given the responsibility of watching your siblings, making sure they weren't getting into trouble.

now, alone at hogwarts, you suddenly felt free, away from the burden of your future, and the responsibility of looking after your siblings.

your thoughts were interrupted when a boy sat beside you after being sorted into slytherin.

you recognized him. he came from the most noble and ancient house of black, one of the most prestigious wizarding families who lived in london.

your mother was close friends with his mother, so you had seen him a couple of times.

you'd never spoken to him before though.

the pair of you would simply make eye-contact before he went upstairs, and you buried your nose in a book.

now, however, you were grateful to have the slightly comforting feeling of having someone you knew sit beside you.

you had barely eaten anything; your anxiety was filling enough. an air bubble had wedged itself in your throat, preventing you from doing anything but staring at your food and rubbing your sweaty palms on your robe-covered thighs.

"you've barely touched your food," regulus had murmured with a small, sullen nod; his way of greeting you.

"so have you," you observed quietly, your eyes flickering to his untouched plate, then wandering to hazel-green eyes and dark, messy mop of curls.

no more words were exchanged after that, but regulus and you walked together to the slytherin common room.

you studied together too, and sat next to each other during classes, and even hung out together during the weekends.

one would even go as far as to call you friends.

that was what you had become.

you quickly noticed how similar he was to you. quiet, hardworking, same sense of humor... he even had the same taste in books as you did.

first year passed quickly, too fast for your liking, and before you knew it, it was summer, and you were back to looking after all your siblings and having your mother continuously chastise you for unladylike behavior, constantly reminding you of your upcoming marriage to rookwood as soon as you would graduate from hogwarts.

you were tired of being reminded of it. personally, you couldn't imagine being married to rookwood. you'd never even met the wizard, and you could only hope your parents would change their mind.

you exchanged letters with regulus all summer. yet you never once told him about your betrothal. in your mind, if you didn't speak of it, it would make it less true, and less likely to happen, which was what you wanted.

second year was uneventful, except for the time you and regulus got your first ever detention together.

regulus' brother, sirius had been ignoring regulus whenever the two of you tried to approach him about their mother's letter to regulus, and you had grown frustrated and hexed sirius with a spell you found in one of your books.

as a result, sirius had hexed you with a nose-growing spell and regulus, who was furious at his brother for doing this to you launched himself all over sirius and pummeled him with his fists.

you had to arrange all the borrowed books in the library according to category and author, but it was more rewarding than punishing, since you got to read books and hang out with regulus at the same time.

the summer after your second year was pretty much the same as the one the year before.

for regulus, it was one of his worst summers yet. his brother had run away from home, and got disowned, leaving his little brother to take the brunt of his parents' wrath.

he had immediately flooed over to your house in the middle of the night, and you nursed him back to health as he had suffered the cruciatus curse multiple times that night.

"thank you," he had told you, when dawn began creeping closer. you had hidden him in your room, hoping your parents wouldn't find out about an uninvited guest.

"any time," you whispered back, giving him the tightest hug you could muster. "it's what friends are for, right?"

you and regulus grew closer after that. two of your siblings joined hogwarts that year, and the heavy responsibilities you dealt with at home followed you to hogwarts, the place that had become your safe haven.

when the twins got into trouble, your parents sent you a howler for not looking after them properly, and regulus was there holding you as you cried into his shoulder late at night in the common room.

"it'll be okay, i've got you..." he kept murmuring.

and he was right. it was all okay, because he was there.

you and regulus didn't need anyone else's company when you had each other.

he was enough for you, and you were enough for him too.

third year was also the year you were allowed to go to hogsmeade. as usual, you and regulus went together, checked out the village and bought a few candies, before returning to the castle.

the rest of the visits, the two of you took advantage of the empty castle to hang out alone in the slytherin common room.

summer after your third year was uneventful apart from the fact that you met augustus rookwood for the very first time.

he had just finished his seventh year at durmstrang, and had come with his father to see you for the first time.

all at once, everything felt real.

you didn't want to do this; not one bit. you didn't want to marry rookwood.

still, you had come to terms with your fate, you had accepted it.

yet another one of your siblings joined hogwarts at the beginning of your fourth year.

regulus instantly noticed something was different about you this year. the whole train ride, you were completely silent, reading. or at least, pretending to read.

you didn't realize it, but you had been holding your book upside down, too lost in your own thoughts to realize.

regulus noticed, but he never said a word.

he merely smiled and shook his head.

regulus had thought you needed time and space, so that was what he gave you.

at christmas, when you still weren't back to your normal self, he had decided that he had had enough.

"okay, spill," he said randomly, when the two of you were doing homework by the black lake.

"i'm sorry...??"

"something's been bothering you. i want to know," he got to the point, his beautiful hazel-green eyes meeting yours.

and then, you broke.

all this time you had been holding yourself up, afraid that if you opened your mouth, you wouldn't be able to stop, you would start crying.

"reg— don't.... don't ask me that," you pleaded, your eyes watering. "ask me anything else, just.. just not that..."

you couldn't give him an honest answer; you didn't want to talk about rookwood.

you just wanted to forget.

you wanted to enjoy the rest of your hogwarts life and your childhood before your marriage to rookwood.

fully able to tell you were sensitive about the issue, regulus pulled you into an embrace, and that was where you began crying once more, sobbing and shaking as he held you.

"i'm betrothed to rookwood— i'm going to marry him as soon as we graduate from here.."

"oh, love..." your stomach fluttered intensely at the pet name, and as you buried your face into his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck, the sensation only intensified instead of fading away.

when had he smelt this masculine, this good?? when had he felt so muscular, so safe?

you didn't realize it, but that was when you started falling for regulus black, your best friend.

summer after fourth year was no better than the rest. you got to meet regulus at all the pureblood parties and galas hosted by different wizarding families during the summer.

it was also when you shared your first dance with rookwood, and your first dance with regulus.

your best friend has asked you to dance when he saw you sitting pitifully on the stairs, right after your dance with rookwood had ended.

the two of you had ended up sneaking away from the party and into the piano room, where you played tchaikovsky together and stole a bottle of firewhiskey from the cellar.

safe to say that you both got drunk, but you had managed to take a sobering potion before either of your parents caught you.

your fifth year was when you realized you had caught feelings for regulus. every time he gave you that quiet smile of his, every time his eyes twinkled in mirth when you said something funny...

it made your stomach lurch in a completely pleasant way.

every time he would hug you, you would blush. every time his hands would brush against yours, you bit your lip to stop the grin forming across your lips.

it only made everything more painful; knowing that you couldn't act on your feelings because you were betrothed to rookwood.

regulus didn't realize; and you hoped he never would realize.

little did you know, he had already fallen in love with you.

but neither of you acted on your feelings. you simply grew closer to each other than ever.

during the slytherin christmas party, you and regulus got caught under the mistletoe, and he pressed the barest, gentlest of kisses on your lips.

it was your first kiss, but you didn't tell him that.

it lasted less than a second, but it meant everything to you.

it was hard pretending everything was normal after that. regulus was strangely oblivious to your feelings, and you often wondered how he couldn't see your painfully obvious feelings for him, and how he could go on pretending his kiss hadn't affected you.

the rest of your fifth year, you tried to distract yourself from regulus; knowing that if you confessed your feelings for him, it would ruin your friendship.

even if he did like you back, you were betrothed to rookwood anyway.

the summer after your fifth year, and before your sixth year, your parents hosted your official engagement party.

after much pleading and begging, you were allowed to invite regulus.

and as you watched another girl, who happened to be your cousin, chat him up and touch his arm, your blood boiled, your heart clenched, and tears sprung to your eyes, as you watched him lean against the wall with his hands in his pockets and shrug.

the girl moved on and before you knew it, your eyes met his.

a fierce jolt traveled through your entire body, tension suffocating you from all sides just from bearing the weight of his gaze.

that was when you knew you were in love with regulus black.

he was your life jacket in the stormy sea of like, and you simply could not live without him.

you needed him.

but you never said a word.

your fate was sealed. you loved him from a distance. he was so far, yet so close.

and this type of pain was worse than the cruciatus, even.

no, you smiled through it all, acted like you were happy.

only regulus saw through your façade.

your sixth year was your hardest year yet. another of your siblings joined hogwarts, and you and rookwood were expected to write to each other every week.

his letters were short. yours were the same length.

regulus had started to gain attention from the female population.

the tall, brooding, silent type is what they called him. he acted oblivious and uninterested to all of it, but whenever he was approached by a girl, you noticed the slight smirk on his pale, pink lips, and the slightest lift of his eyebrow, and his eyes would meet yours, as if he were waiting for your reaction.

that was when you would quickly cast your gaze down and hastily begin to pretend you were writing.

but regulus knew.

he could see.

and he wanted to confirm if you had feelings for him, so he looked at you cluelessly before he asked his question.

"should i go out with her?" he asked innocently, his face betraying no emotion. "she seems nice, doesn't she?"

it was all a ploy to get you jealous, but you didn't know that.

fisting your hands underneath the table, you forced a smile through gritted teeth.

"mhmm, yeah, she does. if you like her, go ahead— ask her out..."

and he asked her out right in front of you, fully aware of your reddening cheeks and your annoyed glare.

two could play that game.

with every letter that came from rookwood, once a week, you made a show of receiving it, reading it and replying to it.

"want to head to the library?" regulus would ask.

"can't," you'd say. "i need to reply to rookwood."

you would give him the same response when he asked you to accompany him to hogsmeade, and when he asked if you would play chess with him, unaware that your responses made his blood boil.

he decided to up his game.

every quidditch match he would play, he would always wink at you and smile, right after he caught the snitch and won for slytherin.

his win was always dedicated to you.

since his second year, his first year after getting on the team, he always won for you.

you were always there in the crowd, wearing his jersey, his number painted on both your cheeks.

this time, he winked at her.

at the stupid, stupid greengrass girl.

what's more, she ran to him right after his win, and kissed him full on the mouth.

in front of everyone.

your blood boiled, coursing through your veins, and the roar of the crowd around you was drowned out by the pumping of your heart in your ears, making your whole head throb.

hot, angry tears spilled down your cheeks, and your head felt heavy. without casting another glance backwards, you stormed off angrily, into the forbidden forest, without a care.

you didn't know how long you were there, feeding unicorns, talking to the centaurs, but you lost track of time.

it grew dark, and it even began raining.

and you were lost; you couldn't find your way back to the castle.

after wandering blindly through the trees, you managed to get out of the forest, tears mingling with the rain crashing down from the sky.

you were drenched. completely. you had worn regulus' quidditch jersey, as usual; the way you did every match.

now it was a soaking mess atop your shorts.

and then you heard his voice.

calling out your name.

you froze.

he saw you, a good distance from hagrid's hut, wand in hand, wearing his jersey, soaking wet.

you were shivering, freezing cold. but one look from his intense eyes and you felt hot all over.

you were on fire.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS?" he roared, his angry gaze meeting yours. "YOU WERE GONE FOR HOURS— i... i thought something happened to you," he rasped, his voice losing its angry tone and taking a sad, defeated one.

he never lost his temper; it was a rare occasion. and at the moment, he was mad at you for making his heart go through the possibility of losing you.

and you, you could only stand in silence, angry tears spilling down your cheeks.

for once, you were glad it was raining, so regulus couldn't see your tears.

"well, i'm fine," you replied coolly, still completely pissed at regulus. it wasn't his fault. "no need to worry."

you shouldn't have been mad. after all, he didn't like you that way and you were meant to marry rookwood.

"that's all you're going to say?" he scoffed, as he couldn't believe you.

"should i be saying something else?" you prompted, irritation lacing your words.

"an apology, maybe?" regulus muttered, voice laced with irony. "for worrying me? for making me think... something happened to you? for making me think... that i... lost you?"

his voice were laced with vulnerability, spoken with a quiet sort of disappointment, as if he couldn't believe that you of all people would leave him.

in this world, he only had you.

no one else.

you were his family.

"well, why do you care what happens to me anyway?" you retorted, still furious at him for kissing the other girl. you simply couldn't get the image of greengrass locking lips with your best friend.

"i care because you're my best friend. you're all i have," regulus replied earnestly, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the thundering sound of rain. "and..."

his voice dropped lower as he broke off, averting his gaze to the floor before his beautiful eyes flickered back up to yours. "and i love you."

a deafening silence pounded through your ears, and though he spoke so so softly, it was fully audible over the sound of rain.

your heart lurched.

more tears poured down your face, and you swallowed hard.

"reg— i—" you stuttered, completely frozen, unable to string two words together. hope festered in your heart, and you guarded it fiercely, unable to tell if he meant it platonically, or romantically.

"it's... it's okay if you don't feel the same—" he began to panic, brows furrowing together in worry.

"i do," you gurgled, surprising him completely. "i love you."

before you knew it, he was kissing you, hands tangled in your wet, matted hair, your lips mingling with his.

you were freezing cold, and the rain drenched both of you, but the moment your lips touched his, your body was on fire.

you and regulus started dating, but in secret. you couldn't risk your parents finding out about you being in love with him.

they would forbid you from seeing him, and you couldn't live that.

your sixth year summer was uneventful, save for the fact that you convinced your parents to allow you to floo over to regulus' place every now and then.

they only allowed you out of pity.

it was your last summer to be free, to be unmarried.

it was also regulus' last summer to be free. he would be joining the dark lord immediately after graduation from hogwarts.

unbeknownst to you, regulus was hatching a plan.

he didn't tell anyone about it, in fear of failure.

your seventh year was bittersweet.

it was full of exams, and looking after your siblings.

and wedding preparations.

the year ended, and you were swamped with wedding preparations.

you had no time to see regulus.

every night, you would cry, as your wedding came closer and closer, and you were desperately in love with regulus.

the night before your wedding, regulus had managed to sneak into your room.

"pack your essentials," he whispered. "let's run away together.."

and you did. you grabbed his hand and let yourself fall, because you knew he would always catch you.

you knew he would always be there for you.

he would always catch you.

you put your entire faith in him, because everything was better when he was there.

and finally, finally, when you and regulus reached the house he had bought in france, the two of you stopped running.

you were safe.

you were home.

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©nottslove 2025. do not copy, steal or claim any works/graphics as your own.

LET’S GOO TIMMT FTWW

2/23/2025-Timothée Chalamet surpasses Nicolas Cage, who won at the age of 32.

Harry's post-Hogwarts

Harry's life after the battle of Hogwarts.

Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mentions of war, death, nightmares, PTSD

note: A Regulus and Harry moment hihi

The house felt quieter without Danny.

It wasn’t something they ever said out loud, but they all felt it.

Y/N noticed it in the way Regulus lingered by the breakfast table, drinking his tea a little slower, his sharp eyes drifting toward Danny’s usual seat. She noticed it in the way he took a few extra minutes in the morning to check the post as if expecting an owl from her—even though they’d just received one the day before.

Harry noticed it in the way the house felt less chaotic. No more exasperated sighs when he tried to rope Danny into one of his antics. No more cutting remarks that were both brilliant and scathing. No more of her curling up in the chair across from Baba, nose buried in a book far too advanced for her age.

Regulus would never admit it, of course. But Y/N caught the way he looked up expectantly every time the fireplace flared, just for a second, before masking it with that cool indifference he’d perfected years ago.

“She’s only been gone a week, Baba,” Harry said one evening, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorway. “You act like she moved across the world.”

Regulus, sitting in his usual chair, turned a page in his book without looking up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Harry smirked. “Right. And you totally didn’t check for an owl three times today.”

Regulus flicked a glance toward Y/N, who was smirking into her tea. “I was checking for Ministry correspondence.”

“Sure you were.”

Regulus exhaled through his nose, closing his book with a soft thud. “Is there a reason you’re standing there, or did you just come to irritate me?”

Harry shrugged. “Mostly the latter.”

Y/N chuckled, setting down her cup. “You two are hopeless.”

Regulus sighed, rubbing his temple. “If this is what I have to deal with when Danny is gone, I’ll just send a Howler telling her to come home.”

Harry snorted. “She’d ignore it. Or worse, she’d send one back telling you to stop being dramatic.”

Regulus didn’t argue, which meant he knew Harry was right.

It was strange—this new phase of life. Hogwarts had always been a part of their routine, but now, with only one child at home, the house felt just a little too still.

Y/N reached over, placing a hand on Regulus’s. “She’s fine. And she’ll write again soon.”

Regulus hummed, squeezing her hand lightly before pulling away. “I’m aware.”

Harry smirked. “You miss her.”

Regulus shot him a look. “Shut up, Hazzy.”

Harry’s grin widened. “You miss her so much.”

Regulus glared. Y/N just laughed, shaking her head.

The house was quieter. But they’d adjust. They always did.

-

It was strange—falling back into a routine that hadn’t existed in over a decade.

With Danny at Hogwarts, the house felt smaller in a way. Not physically, of course, but something about it brought them back to the days when it was just the three of them—Regulus, Y/N, and Harry.

So, they decided to lean into it.

One evening, Harry came home from work at Chuddley Cannons, stretching his arms over his head. "It's weird without her here," he admitted, dropping into his usual seat at the dining table.

Y/N chuckled, setting down the plates. "You mean it's quieter?"

"Exactly," Harry grinned. "No broody six-year-old correcting my spelling or outdueling me in chess."

Regulus raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his tea. "She hasn't been six in quite some time, Harry."

"Yeah, but she still acts like she is sometimes. Always reading, always judging me—"

"Wonder where she got that from," Y/N muttered, smirking at her husband.

Regulus scoffed. "I do not judge."

Harry and Y/N both gave him a look.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Fine. Perhaps occasionally."

That night, it was just the three of them for dinner—like it had been all those years ago. It didn’t take long for them to slip into old habits.

Regulus and Y/N sat beside each other, discussing their respective days—her work at Hogwarts, his at the Ministry. Harry, ever the troublemaker, stirred his soup absentmindedly before blurting, “Remember when I used to sit on the table instead of a chair?”

Y/N groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “You were a menace.”

Harry smirked. “Still am.”

They spent the rest of the evening reminiscing—about the time Harry had insisted on flying inside the house and knocked over an entire bookshelf; about the time Regulus had tried to teach him etiquette, only for him to use a soup spoon to launch peas across the dining room; about the nights when Y/N would return home from Hogwarts, exhausted but still determined to tuck Harry in.

After dinner, Regulus and Y/N sat by the fireplace, Harry sprawled across the floor like he was still a teenager instead of a grown man.

"You know," Y/N mused, watching the flames flicker, "this is nice."

Regulus glanced at her. "What is?"

"Just... us. Like this. It reminds me of when Harry was little."

Harry, lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, smirked. "So you do miss me being a little kid."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "I miss you being manageable."

Regulus chuckled. "He was never manageable."

Harry grinned. "True."

They sat there for a long time, basking in the warmth of nostalgia. The house may have felt quieter, but it didn’t feel empty. cv

Because no matter how much things changed, they were still them. And that was enough.

It was strange—falling back into a routine that hadn’t existed in over a decade.

With Danny at Hogwarts, the house felt quieter. Not empty, just… different.

Harry, now a professional Quidditch player, had been staying over for the week while he had a short break between matches. It almost felt like old times—just the three of them, like it had been before Danny was born.

Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter, watching as Regulus sat at the dining table reading the Daily Prophet, his usual cup of tea in hand. Across from him, Harry was stretching out his sore muscles, rolling his shoulder as he groaned.

"Merlin, I feel ancient."

"You’re twenty," Regulus said flatly, not looking up from his paper.

"Exactly. Ancient."

Y/N smirked, setting plates down on the table. "Try being in your forties and teaching a bunch of teenagers Ancient Runes every day. Then we’ll talk."

Harry grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "You love it."

"Most days." She sat beside Regulus, nudging his arm. "And you? Still terrorizing the poor souls at the Ministry?"

Regulus didn’t dignify that with a response, merely taking another sip of his tea.

Dinner felt like stepping into the past, their usual banter slipping back into place effortlessly.

"Remember when I used to run around the house with my toy broomstick, knocking things over?" Harry mused as he dug into his meal.

Regulus exhaled sharply, setting down his fork. "You were a menace. Nearly took my eye out when you were six."

Y/N laughed. "Oh, and that one time you crashed into the Christmas tree—"

"That was one time!" Harry defended himself.

Regulus smirked, crossing his arms. "And then you joined professional Quidditch. Clearly, you learned your lesson."

Harry grinned. "What can I say? I'm consistent."

After dinner, they moved to the living room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth. Harry sprawled across the couch like he owned the place, tossing a Quaffle into the air absentmindedly. Y/N curled up in her usual spot, while Regulus sat beside her, a book in his lap that he had no real intention of reading.

"You know," Y/N said after a moment, watching the fire, "this feels nice."

Regulus turned to her. "What does?"

"Just us. Like this. It reminds me of when Harry was little."

Harry smirked. "So you do miss me being small."

"I miss you being manageable," Y/N corrected with a roll of her eyes.

Regulus chuckled. "You were never manageable."

Harry tossed the Quaffle in the air again, catching it easily. "True."

The night stretched on, filled with warm conversation and laughter. It wasn’t often that Harry had time to stay home like this, and even though things had changed over the years, some things never would.

They were still them. And that was enough.

However, the nightmares started again.

Flashes of green light. Screams that were cut short. Rubble and fire. The feeling of losing people, of not being enough.

Harry woke up with a sharp gasp, his breath coming in ragged, uneven bursts. His chest ached like he’d run a marathon, and the darkness of his childhood bedroom felt suffocating. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, willing the images away.

He wasn’t at Hogwarts. He wasn’t in the war. He was home. Safe.

But his body didn’t believe it.

A knock at the door made him flinch. He didn’t answer, but the door creaked open anyway, the hallway light casting a long shadow as Regulus stepped inside.

"Another one?" Regulus's voice was quiet, steady.

Harry exhaled shakily and nodded. He didn’t need to explain. Regulus had always known.

Without a word, Regulus crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. It reminded Harry of when he was little—when he would have nightmares about his parents, about loud thunder, about monsters under the bed. Regulus would always be there, brushing his hair back, sitting with him in the dark until he calmed down.

Harry hated that he still needed this. After everything, he still felt like that scared little boy in the dark.

“I should be over this by now,” Harry muttered, his voice thick.

Regulus let out a quiet breath, the ghost of a sigh. “You don’t just ‘get over’ something like war, Harry.”

There was a moment of silence before Regulus reached out, hesitating for only a second before resting a hand on Harry’s head, running his fingers through the messy black strands. The touch was grounding, familiar.

"You used to do this when I was a kid," Harry said quietly.

"You used to calm down when I did," Regulus replied simply.

Harry let his eyes drift shut, focusing on the steady motion, the way it slowed his breathing. The memories of battle still lurked in the corners of his mind, but they felt a little further away now. Less sharp.

They sat in silence for a while.

Eventually, Regulus spoke again, his voice softer. "You are not weak for feeling this way, Harry."

Harry swallowed his throat tight. "I just... I feel like I shouldn't—like I should be moving on."

"You are moving on," Regulus said. "But healing isn’t the same as forgetting."

Harry took a shaky breath. He wanted to believe that.

Regulus stayed with him until his breathing evened out again until the tension in his shoulders finally eased.

Just like when he was a child, Regulus didn't leave until Harry was asleep.

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what I do -> write fanfics and on some occasions, headcanons about timothée's characters

what I write about -> Harry Potter, Marauders, Characters played by Timothée, RPF, etc.

P.S. I don't have an upload schedule, but I try to post and make fanfics as much as possible. My stories are best when I am motivated. It keeps the fun and excitement in making these stories when I'm more motivated. :>

masterlist, prompt list

rules and disclaimersˎˊ˗

yes ! → fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, character x reader, mentions of smvt, bl00d/g0re, slow burn, RPF

no ! → smvt, kinks, p3do, non-con

I do not write smut under any circumstances. If you'd like to make a request, you can choose from the prompt list or submit your own idea.

I've received a few disrespectful comments in the past and have chosen to ignore them. I will continue to do so with any future hate comments. Just a reminder, I am a minor, so these kinds of messages are especially inappropriate.

If you don’t like my writing, feel free to scroll past my blog—there’s no need to send hate comments.

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY MY WRITING AND CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN.

I’m pretty indecisive, so if you notice my blog changing from time to time, it’s just me figuring out which colors I like best hehe!

If you come across my work being copied or reposted, please let me know!

Would you be willing to write Regulus x reader who struggles with anorexia, where she's having a tough day and he helps them eat.

Don't if you're not comfortable tho

A taste of comfort

Y/N struggles with anorexia, and on a tough day, Regulus offers his quiet yet unwavering support, reminding her she’s not alone.

requested by anonymous

Regulus Black x female anorexic! reader

word count: 687

warnings: mentions of anorexia problems

masterlist, Regulus masterlist

Y/N could feel the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders as she sat curled up on the windowsill, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the glass, casting golden hues across the room, but she hardly noticed. Her mind was consumed by the gnawing ache in her stomach, the relentless voice whispering cruel things in the back of her mind.

She had managed to avoid eating all day. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. She had promised Regulus she was trying. She wanted to try. But today, the self-doubt had crept in like a storm cloud, and suddenly, the idea of food felt unbearable again.

Her struggles with anorexia had begun years ago, slowly and insidiously. What had started as a desire for control in a chaotic world had spiraled into something far darker. It had taken root in her thoughts, dictating her every decision. Every bite felt like a battle, every meal a war she was losing. She had pushed people away, convinced that nobody could understand the suffocating fear that came with eating.

And then, she had met Regulus.

They had crossed paths in the most unexpected way—a chance encounter in the Hogwarts library. She had been tucked away in a quiet corner, poring over a book she wasn’t really reading, when he had sat down across from her. At first, she had been wary. He had a reputation, a certain air of cold detachment that made people keep their distance. But there was something about the way he looked at her, something unspoken but deeply understanding.

Slowly, he had become a presence in her life. He never pried, never forced her to talk, but he had a way of making her feel seen. With him, she didn’t have to pretend to be okay. And somehow, despite the walls she had built, he had slipped through the cracks, offering her the quiet support she hadn’t realized she needed.

The door creaked open, and soft footsteps padded across the floor. She didn’t have to look up to know it was him.

“Y/N?” Regulus’ voice was gentle, but there was an edge of concern to it. He crouched down beside her, resting a hand lightly on her arm. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

She hesitated, then sighed. “I just… I needed to be alone.”

Regulus exhaled quietly, his thumb tracing soothing circles over her skin. He didn’t push. He never did. But she knew he saw right through her, past the carefully constructed walls and the forced half-smiles.

After a few moments of silence, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped piece of chocolate. He placed it in her palm without a word.

Y/N stared at it, her fingers curling around the wrapper. “Regulus, I can’t—”

“You can.” His voice was firm but kind. “I know it’s hard. But you need to eat something. Just a little.”

Tears burned at the back of her eyes. The idea of eating—even something as small as this—felt impossible. But then she looked at him, at the quiet determination in his grey eyes, the way his fingers curled around hers, grounding her. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t frustrated. He was just here.

With a shaky breath, she unwrapped the chocolate and broke off a tiny piece, placing it hesitantly in her mouth. The sweetness melted against her tongue, and though the guilt threatened to crash over her like a wave, Regulus was there, steady and unwavering.

“There you go,” he murmured. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m proud of you.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and he caught it with his thumb, pulling her into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder, his scent—familiar and warm—offering a comfort she hadn’t realized she needed so desperately.

“I don’t want to feel like this forever,” she admitted in a whisper.

Regulus tightened his hold on her, his lips pressing a soft kiss against her temple. “You won’t,” he promised. 

“I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Forever you

Lee is cursed with immortality, and he finds Y/N's reincarnation every time.

Vampire!Lee x Reincarnation!Reader

words: 3.5k

warning: mentions of death, blood, m*rder, reincarnation, abuse , war (brief)

note: school is taking up my time. Unedited

find more here: masterlist

It was the year 1060, the village sat on the edge of a dense forest, untouched by war but not by whispers of creatures that lurked in the dark. Lee had no business here, yet he found himself drawn to the small stone hut at the heart of it.

A storm had rolled in, and with it, the gnawing hunger he had grown to hate. He needed to leave before he did something unforgivable. But then, the door to the hut creaked open, and she stood there—Y/N, her lantern’s glow illuminating wide, cautious eyes.

“You look half-dead,” she remarked, stepping forward.

He nearly laughed at the irony. “I suppose I do.”

“Come inside before you freeze.”

She wasn’t afraid of him—not when he stumbled in with wounds that should have killed any normal man, nor when his skin remained ice-cold even by the fire. She asked no questions, only tending to him as her mother once had for wounded knights.

Over the weeks, Lee stayed close. He helped gather wood, watched her mix herbs, and listened to her hum old songs that stirred something ancient in him. Y/N was kind, but sharp-witted, never failing to call out his silences.

“You always look like you’re carrying a burden.”

He glanced at her, stirring the pot over the fire. “Maybe I am.”

“Well,” she huffed, leaning against the table. “You should set it down every once in a while.”

It happened by the river. The sun was dipping below the trees, setting the sky on fire. Y/N stood barefoot on the bank, watching the water swirl between her toes.

“You’re staring.”

Lee blinked. “Am I?”

She turned to face him fully, something unreadable in her gaze. “You always do.”

Before he could think, she reached for him, fingers curling in the fabric of his tunic. When she kissed him, it was nothing like the hesitant, fleeting gestures of courtly lovers. It was warmth, life, the taste of honey and herbs.

For the first time in centuries, Lee felt human again.

The night was still, but Lee knew danger when he felt it. He woke to the scent of blood, not Y/N’s, but the slaughtered lamb outside the hut. A warning.

He knew he couldn’t keep this from her any longer.

That night, he found her sitting by the fire, waiting for him. Her eyes followed him as he paced, struggling with the words.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, voice low.

She curled a brow. “Oh? You’re secretly a nobleman? Or—gods forbid—a bard?”

He almost smiled, but the weight of the truth held him back. “I’m not… like you, Y/N. I haven’t been for a long time.”

She tilted her head, curious but unafraid. “Go on.”

He took a breath, then met her gaze. “I don’t age. I don’t die—not in the way humans do. I… survive on blood.”

The silence stretched between them. Then, to his utter shock, she smirked. “You’re not about to tell me you sparkle in the sunlight, are you?”

He blinked. “What?”

“You know,” she waved. “Shimmering skin, brooding forever, that sort of thing.”

Despite himself, a laugh escaped him. “No. I avoid the sun because it weakens me, not because I… glisten.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. “So, are you going to eat me?”

His amusement faded. “Never.”

She studied him for a moment before shrugging. “Good. Then I see no reason to be afraid.”

“You should be,” he murmured. “You don’t understand what I am.”

“I understand enough,” she said, softer this time. “You’re Lee. You help me gather wood, you listen to my terrible singing, and you burn the stew when I let you cook. That’s enough for me.”

They stayed together after that. Y/N made jokes about his brooding and inhuman coldness, but she never feared him. They danced under the moonlight, shared whispered stories between breaths, and Lee let himself love without fear for the first time in his immortal life.

But time was cruel.

Sickness took her slowly. Lee tried everything; fetched herbs, stole medicines, pleaded to gods he didn’t believe in. Nothing stopped the inevitable.

“Stay,” she whispered, voice weak in the flickering candlelight.

Lee clutched her hand, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’ll find you,” he swore. “Every time.”

And as her last breath left her lips, Lee sat in silence, knowing this was only the beginning of his endless search for her.

He wandered for years, waiting for the pull, for the feeling deep in his bones that would lead him back to her. And then he found her again. Different life, different name—but it was her. It was always her.

He never told her, not at first. He let her fall in love with him the way she always did—slowly, sweetly, as if for the first time. But the truth always came out. Sometimes she laughed when she learned what he was. Sometimes she was afraid. But always, in every life, she stayed.

And always, in every life, she left him in the end.

And still, he searched.

The year was 1300s and this time he found her in the bustling market square, the scent of fresh bread and spices filling the air, the chatter of merchants blending into a steady hum. But it was her laughter that cut through the noise, clear and familiar, sending a shiver down his spine.

He knew her the moment he saw her. He always did.

For two days, he followed at a careful distance, watching the way she moved, how she spoke with ease, and how she tossed a playful remark to the baker’s apprentice. He wanted to approach, but how could he? How did one explain centuries of longing?

It was she who finally ended his hesitation. Spinning on her heel in a narrow alleyway, she caught him lingering in her shadow.

“Are you following me?” she demanded, hands on her hips. Her sharp stare knocked the breath from his lungs. It was her, through and through—that stubborn courage, that fire he had loved before.

“I was hoping to talk to you,” Lee admitted, voice low, almost reverent.

She raised an eyebrow. “Then speak.”

And somehow, he found himself walking her home that evening, conversation flowing as if they had known each other forever. In a way, they had.

Lee learned that Y/N was headstrong, witty, and too clever for her good. She spoke of faraway places with longing, of adventure and stories that she dreamed of living by herself. She was restless in this life, much like she had been before, though she didn’t yet know why.

He became her shadow, not out of fear but out of need. He couldn’t leave her, not again. He helped carry baskets when she let him, stole apples from carts to hear her gasp in feigned disapproval, and listened to her hum old songs that stirred something ancient in his chest.

“You don’t talk much,” she mused one evening as they sat by the river.

“I talk when it matters.”

“And when does it matter?”

He looked at her then, the last light of the sun catching in her hair. “When it’s with you.”

The spring festival soon came with laughter, dancing, and the scent of blooming flowers. Y/N had dragged him into the square despite his protests, her hand warm in his as she spun them into the crowd. The music was fast, the world around them a blur, but Lee only saw her—her flushed cheeks, the way she bit her lip when she laughed.

When the dancing ended, they stumbled out of the crowd, breathless. Lanterns glowed above them, flickering light casting golden patterns on her face. Without a word, she grabbed his hand and kissed him.

It was sudden, impulsive, her laughter still on her lips when she kissed him again.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured against her mouth.

She grinned. “Then why are you still here?”

Because I always am, he thought, but he only kissed her in response.

Summer turned to autumn, and as the leaves fell, so did the last of his resolve. He had to tell her. He owed her that much.

They sat by the fire in her family’s home, the warmth doing nothing for the chill in his bones. Y/N watched him, something unreadable in her gaze, as if she already knew.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he began. His hands clenched into fists. “Something about what I am.”

Y/N tilted her head. “You say that like you’re about to confess to murder.”

His silence stretched too long.

She blinked. “Lee?”

“I’m not human.” The words felt heavy, final. “I haven’t been for a long time.”

She studied him, quiet for a moment, before crossing her arms. “You’re not about to tell me you’re some kind of… what do they call them—creature of the night, are you?”

He let out a breath. “Something like that.”

To his utter shock, she only smirked. “You’re not going to start lurking in dark corners and calling me ‘mortal one,’ are you?”

He stared. “What?”

“I mean, if you start hissing at garlic, I might reconsider our whole relationship.”

Despite himself, he laughed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me.”

“Yes,” he said, softer this time. “I do.”

She reached for his hand, squeezing it. “Good. Because I know who you are now. And I don’t care.”

They spent that autumn wrapped in each other, in whispered words and secret smiles. She asked him endless questions—what it was like to live forever, if he had met kings, if he missed the taste of food.

“I don’t remember the taste,” he admitted one night, tracing patterns on her bare shoulder.

“That’s tragic,” she murmured. “I’d die if I couldn’t have honey cakes.”

He chuckled. “You say that as if you haven’t eaten five today.”

She gasped, shoving him playfully. “How dare you keep count?”

“I can’t help it. You get this look—like a fox that just stole from the henhouse.”

She laughed, burying her face against his chest. “Maybe in my next life, I’ll be a baker.”

He smiled, but the words sat heavy in his heart. There would always be a next life. And she would always leave him behind.

The winter was cruel.

She fell ill not long after the first snowfall. It started with a cough, then a fever that wouldn’t break. Lee tried everything; stole medicine, bribed healers, prayed to gods he didn’t believe in. Nothing worked.

He held her through the fevered nights, whispering stories she had loved, pressing cool clothes to her burning skin. He stayed when her strength faded, when her voice turned to a whisper.

One morning, just before dawn, she stirred. Her fingers curled weakly around his, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Lee?”

“I’m here.”

Her lips parted in the faintest of smiles. Her eyes softened, full of something deep, something knowing. “You’ll find me again,” she murmured.

Tears burned his eyes. He kissed her hand, pressing it to his cheek. “Always.”

And with a final, shuddering breath, she was gone.

Lee sat in silence, holding her long after her body turned cold.

The cycle would begin again. It always did.

And when it did, he would find her.

Because he always did.

It was the 1800s and in this life, she was a noblewoman.

Y/N.

Distant. Unreachable. A vision draped in silks and adorned with jewels, moving through candlelit halls as though she belonged to another world entirely. But Lee had seen her in every world, in every life. And even if she did not remember him, he knew her. He always did.

She was wed to another. A man of power, of wealth, of status. Someone safe. Someone human. Lee had seen him once, standing beside Y/N at a lavish banquet, fingers pressed possessively against the small of her back. It should have been him. It had always been him. But in this life, she did not belong to him.

So he watched from afar.

For months, he lingered in the shadows of her world, a ghost haunting the edges of candlelight. He caught glimpses of her in the garden at dusk, her face turned toward the dying sun. He listened to the sound of her laughter carried on the wind, a cruel reminder of all he had lost before. He kept his distance, even when the ache in his chest became unbearable.

And then he saw the bruises.

Dark, blooming things hidden beneath the high collar of her gown. The way she flinched when her husband reached for her at the next banquet. The hollow look in her eyes that had never been there before.

Lee had always told himself he would never interfere. That she deserved to live these lives as they came, untouched by the monster that lurked in the dark.

But this time, he couldn’t stay away.

He followed the man through the winding streets of the city, footsteps silent on the cobblestone. The nobleman was drunk, swaying as he staggered down a deserted alley, humming a tune that grated on Lee’s nerves. He reeked of wine, of expensive perfume, of cruelty. The kind of man who took pleasure in his power. The kind of man who believed himself untouchable.

Lee stepped out of the shadows.

"Who’s there?" the nobleman slurred, squinting into the darkness.

Lee didn’t speak. He let the silence stretch, watching as unease flickered across the man’s face. Then he moved.

It was over in seconds. A hand around the nobleman's throat, squeezing just hard enough to feel his pulse thrumming beneath his fingers. The man barely had time to gasp before Lee struck, fangs piercing flesh, warm blood spilling over his tongue. It had been so long since he had fed. He had denied himself for so long.

But this kill was not for hunger.

It was for her.

When the man finally went limp, Lee let his body crumple to the ground, blood staining the stone beneath them. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but the coppery taste lingered. The taste of vengeance. Of justice.

Then he looked up—and saw her.

Y/N stood at the mouth of the alley, candlelight from the street casting a golden halo around her. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes locked on the lifeless body at Lee’s feet. Then, slowly, she met his gaze.

"You killed him," she murmured.

Lee swallowed, his throat thick with something he couldn’t name. "He hurt you."

She stepped closer, unafraid. "You’re dangerous."

"I am."

She should have run. She should have screamed for the guards. Instead, she looked down at the man who had tormented her for months, the man she had been forced to smile for, to obey, to endure. And then she exhaled a long, shuddering breath, as if some unseen weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

When she looked back at Lee, her eyes were softer. "But you’ve saved me more times than I can count."

Weeks passed, and the rumors of her husband's mysterious disappearance faded into whispers. Y/N remained in the estate, and Lee remained in the shadows, always near, never too far. But this time, he did not watch from a distance.

One evening, beneath a sky heavy with rain, she found him waiting on the balcony of her chambers. The city stretched below them, lanterns flickering against the darkness. The air smelled of wet stone, of lavender, of her.

She stepped closer, the silk of her nightgown whispering against the cool night air. "You always find me."

"Always."

She reached for him then, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw, as if memorizing him for the first time. And then, slowly, deliberately, she kissed him.

It was not rushed, not desperate like their first kisses in other lives. It was steady, filled with understanding. As if she had known him for years rather than weeks. As if, deep down, she had always known.

Lee stayed with her.

As the years passed, he remained by her side, a silent guardian in a world that did not know what he was. He held her at night, pressing kisses to her skin as she murmured dreams of other lives. He traced the lines of her face, memorizing every expression, knowing one day, he would lose her again.

And when time finally caught up to her, when the silver in her hair outnumbered the gold, he never left.

He sat at her bedside when she grew frail, holding her hand, whispering stories from their past. Some she remembered. Some she did not. But she listened all the same, her fingers curled around his, as if afraid to let go.

One night, as the fire burned low in the hearth, she turned to him, eyes heavy with sleep. "Will you find me again?"

Lee pressed his lips to her knuckles, breathing in the last traces of her warmth. "Always."

And when she passed, he kissed her brow one final time before slipping away into the night, the cycle beginning once more.

It was now the 21st century and Lee hadn’t meant to talk to her. He had spent months ensuring that their paths never truly crossed, keeping his distance like he always did.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor.

It was late, the city washed in a misty drizzle, the glow of neon signs reflecting off the wet pavement. He had been trailing her like always, keeping a careful distance.

Then, without warning, she turned around.

Lee barely had time to react before she was standing before him, eyes bright with something unreadable.

“Hello, Lee.”

His breath caught.

No.

She couldn’t have just—

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

The world tilted.

It took everything in him to stay still, to keep his expression unreadable even as his mind reeled. His name. She had said his name.

She remembered.

For centuries, it had been the other way around—him searching, him finding, him remembering while she moved through life unaware of their past.

But now…

Now, she was the one who had been looking for him.

Lee’s pulse pounded in his ears, though he knew it was just a phantom sensation, a habit leftover from when he had been human.

He forced himself to meet her gaze, searching for some sign that he had misheard. That this was just some cruel coincidence.

But her expression held no doubt. No hesitation. Only quiet certainty.

She knew him.

Truly knew him.

“Say something,” she teased, tilting her head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He let out a shaky breath, barely managing a smirk. “Funny. That’s usually my line.”

Her lips quivered in amusement, but her eyes remained steady, waiting.

“How?” Lee finally asked, voice hoarse. “How do you remember?”

She hummed, crossing her arms. “Not all at once. It started as dreams—flashes of things that didn’t belong to this life. You were always there, though.” She smiled softly, like she had finally solved a puzzle that had been plaguing her for years. “Your face was the clearest thing.”

He couldn’t breathe.

For so long, he had carried their past alone. Shouldered the weight of lifetimes of love and loss, knowing she would never share the burden.

But now…

Now, she was standing in front of him, looking at him like she had been waiting for him just as desperately as he had been waiting for her.

“You were watching me,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Every night. Weren’t you?”

Lee stiffened.

Caught.

He should lie. Should tell her she was mistaken. But what was the point? She already knew.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I was.”

She didn’t look surprised.

“Why?”

Lee swallowed, debating how much of the truth he was willing to give her.

Because I couldn’t help myself. Because I’ve lost you too many times. Because I swore I wouldn’t get close, and yet I can’t seem to let you go.

Instead, he settled for, “Old habits die hard.”

Her gaze softened, seeing right through him.

Lee hated how easily she had always been able to do that.

“Will you keep running?” she asked.

The question settled between them, heavy and unspoken for far too long.

Lee had run for centuries—run from getting too close, from the pain of losing her, from the cruel hand of fate that always wrenched them apart.

But this time was different.

This time, she remembered.

And she had been the one searching for him.

He exhaled slowly. “I don’t know.”

Y/N reached out then, her fingers curling around his in a way that felt so natural, so achingly familiar, that it nearly unraveled him.

“Then let me find you,” she said, her grip steady. “For once, let me be the one who stays.”

Lee looked down at their joined hands, at the warmth seeping into his skin.

For the first time in lifetimes, she wasn’t slipping away.

And for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to let go.

A regulus x chubby ravenclaw reader female x serverus Snape story please

Hidden in plain sight

Y/N has always struggled with insecurity, convinced that someone like Regulus Black could never notice her. Little does she know, he hasn’t stopped talking about her for weeks.

requested by misskity1912-blog

Regulus Black x Chubby Fem! reader

words: 944

warning: mentions of insecurity

note: I'm not familiar with Severus so it will take some time before I can start writing about him <3

masterlist, regulus masterlist

Y/N stood in front of the mirror in her dormitory, adjusting the hem of her robes as she stared at her reflection. Her hands unconsciously smoothed over the fabric, trying to hide the curves she had never quite learned to love. No matter how often she wanted to remind herself that beauty wasn’t defined by a single body type, the lingering insecurities whispered otherwise.

She turned slightly, frowning at her side profile. She envied the girls who seemed effortlessly graceful, the ones whose uniforms fit just right, whose confidence seemed so natural. She pulled at the fabric of her robes as if that would somehow change the way she looked, but nothing ever did. With a quiet sigh, she let her hands drop and turned away from the mirror, shaking off the nagging thoughts. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like anyone was paying attention to her, least of all Regulus Black.

Still, as she made her way down to the Great Hall, her heart clenched at the thought of him, impossibly elegant and untouchable.

Y/N sat at the Ravenclaw table, absently poking at her breakfast as she half-listened to her housemates discussing their plans for the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. It wasn’t as if she had any plans of her own—she rarely did. While she loved the idea of going, wandering through the cobbled streets with someone special, she knew that particular dream was unattainable.

Because that someone special was Regulus Black.

And Regulus Black was impossibly out of reach.

She had harbored a deep, quiet crush on the Slytherin for years. He was everything she was not—elegant, poised, respected. Meanwhile, she was the chubby Ravenclaw who kept to herself, more at home in the library than at social gatherings. She was always hyperaware of her appearance, tugging at the edges of her robes or crossing her arms over her stomach, trying to take up less space. The idea of him ever noticing her was laughable, and yet, she couldn’t stop herself from stealing glances at him across the Great Hall, allowing her mind to entertain impossible daydreams.

Little did she know that, at that very moment, Regulus Black was sitting at the Slytherin table, going on and on about her.

“She’s brilliant,” Regulus said, absently twirling his spoon in his porridge. “I saw her answering Slughorn’s question yesterday before he even finished asking it. And she was right. Of course, she was right. She always is.”

Barty groaned, dropping his head onto the table. “Merlin, not again.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “You’ve been talking about Y/N for weeks. Either do something about it or shut up.”

Pandora, always the most patient of the group, smiled encouragingly. “You should ask her to Hogsmeade, Regulus. She doesn’t seem to have any plans.”

Regulus hesitated, suddenly feeling very exposed. “She wouldn’t say yes.”

“How would you know?” Evan asked, exasperated. “It’s not like you’ve tried.”

“She’s never shown any interest in me,” Regulus admitted, suddenly feeling foolish for all the time he’d spent admiring her from a distance. “She’s intelligent, kind, beautiful—why would she waste her time on me?”

Barty nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. “You are Regulus Black. You have people practically lining up for the chance to go to Hogsmeade with you. Stop being an idiot and just ask her.”

Regulus pursed his lips. The idea of being rejected by Y/N was enough to make his stomach twist, but his friends’ words lingered in his mind. Maybe… maybe they were right.

Y/N sat alone in the courtyard, bundled in her robes as she read a book, the crisp autumn air nipping at her cheeks. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, and most students had already retreated indoors, but she found the quiet comforting. It was easier to exist in the world of books than in reality where she was invisible to the person she liked most.

She was so lost in her reading that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching until a shadow fell over her pages. Glancing up, she nearly dropped her book when she saw Regulus Black standing before her, hands in his pockets, looking uncharacteristically hesitant.

Her heart leaped into her throat. “Oh. Um—hi?”

Regulus cleared his throat, shifting to his feet. “Hi.”

An awkward silence stretched between them, and Y/N struggled to understand what was happening. Was he lost? Did he need help with something? Had she done something wrong?

“I—” Regulus exhaled sharply, looking more nervous than she’d ever seen him. “Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Y/N blinked, sure she had misheard him. “What?”

Regulus’ jaw tightened as if he were bracing for impact. “Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?”

Her mind reeled. This had to be a joke, some kind of cruel prank. There was no way he—Regulus Black—was asking her out. Her stomach twisted with familiar self-doubt.

“Me?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Are you sure?”

Regulus frowned slightly. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. “I just… I don’t really seem like your type.”

Regulus’ gaze softened as he took a step closer. “You’re exactly my type.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. “I’d like that.”

Relief washed over Regulus’ face, and for the first time, he allowed himself to truly smile at her. “Good.”

As he walked away, promising to meet her in the entrance hall on Saturday, Y/N watched him go, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, she had been wrong about being out of his reach.

Glasses !

SUMMARY: Y/N and Regulus take Harry to get glasses after he bumps straight into the door frame.

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader]

warnings: Fluff, slightly humorous

words: 0.6k

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It started with small things.

Harry missing his cup when reaching for his pumpkin juice at breakfast. Squinting at his books when Y/N or Regulus tried to get him to read. Tripping over his own feet more often than usual. At first, they thought it was just clumsiness—he was four, after all.

Then he walked straight into the doorframe.

Regulus, who had been sipping his tea, barely blinked as Harry let out a small oof and stumbled backward, rubbing his forehead. Y/N, however, immediately crouched down beside him.

“Harry, love, are you alright?” she asked, brushing his messy hair away to check for any bumps.

Harry pouted, rubbing his forehead. “The door moved.”

Regulus raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “No, it didn’t.”

Harry crossed his arms. “Well, it felt like it did.”

Y/N hummed, glancing at Regulus before looking back at Harry. “Sweetheart, have you been having trouble seeing things lately?”

Harry shrugged. “I dunno.”

Regulus sighed, setting down his tea. “I think we need to take him to the eye healer.”

Harry’s eyes widened in alarm. “A what?”

Y/N chuckled, adjusting her own glasses. “Someone who helps people see better. Like how I wear glasses, remember?”

Harry blinked, looking up at her. “Oh… but you look good in glasses.”

Y/N grinned. “And you will too if you need them.”

Harry frowned but didn’t argue.

The next day, after breakfast (which involved Sirius trying to convince Harry to wear an eyepatch instead of glasses because it was ‘cooler’), they made their way to St. Mungo’s Department of Magical Vision and Sight.

Harry swung his legs idly from his chair in the waiting area, glancing at Y/N. “Did you have to get glasses when you were little too?”

She smiled. “I did. I was about your age when my mum took me for my first pair.”

Harry considered this. “Did Daddy James wear them too?”

Y/N’s smile softened. “Yes, he did. Since he was a boy.”

Harry looked thoughtful. “Maybe I should get glasses… then I’ll match you and Daddy James.”

Regulus snorted. “As if you had a choice.”

Before Harry could respond, the healer called them in.

The eye healer, an older wizard with kind eyes, greeted them warmly. “Alright, young man, let’s see how those eyes are working.”

Harry went through a series of tests, from reading different-sized letters to following a floating quill with his eyes. He giggled when the quill changed colors but frowned when he struggled with some of the smaller letters.

After a few more checks, Healer Aldwyn nodded. “Well, my boy, you’re a bit nearsighted. Not too bad, but you’ll need some glasses to help you see clearly.”

Harry gasped. “Like Mama?”

Y/N smiled. “Just like me, love.”

Harry beamed. “Then I want glasses!”

At the attached vision shop, Harry tried on several pairs, wrinkling his nose at most of them.

“These,” he finally said, grabbing a pair of small, round frames. “They look like Mama’s, but smaller!”

Y/N’s heart melted. “Oh, love, you look adorable.”

Regulus smirked. “Now he just needs to start losing all of his books like you do.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and nudged him playfully.

As they walked out, Harry kept adjusting his glasses, looking around in amazement. “I can see so much! Look, Baba! The clouds are so fluffy! And the sign isn’t blurry anymore!”

Regulus smirked. “That is the point of glasses, Harry.”

Harry grinned up at Y/N. “We match now, Mama!”

Y/N ruffled his hair. “Yes, we do, love.”

Regulus glanced between them, then sighed. “Great. Now there are two of you.”

Y/N smirked. “Poor you.”

Harry giggled, and the three of them headed home—where Sirius, upon seeing Harry’s glasses, dramatically clutched his chest and declared, “MY GODSON LOOKS JUST LIKE JAMES! I’M HAVING AN EMOTIONAL CRISIS!” before proceeding to chase Harry around the house yelling, “NERD ALERT!”

Regulus groaned. Y/N laughed.

And Harry?

He just felt pretty cool.

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