(same Anon As Incest Question Lol)

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.

event; profile; nav;

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

Hi, dear! I'm sorry if you don't write character death, I read your 'rules and disclaimers' and I didn't see death at either yes or no so this is just me shooting my shot and ask you if you would write an Regulus x reader where, preferably the reader, dies, and Regulus goes through grief? Again, I'm sorry if this made you feel uncomfy, I absolutly love your writing. All the love <3

Where you are

Regulus knew he wouldn’t survive, but he didn’t mind. Death meant seeing you again.

pairings: Regulus Black x Dead!Fem!Reader

word count: 4.6K

warnings: Angst, mentions death, torture, drowning, implied depression. Read on your own accord

note: I usually write fluff rather than death, so this is definitely outside my comfort zone, but in a way I enjoy. To answer your question, I see death as a natural part of angst, so no need to apologize. Again, PLEASE READ ON YOUR OWN ACCOUNT. I changed the way I post my stories. Do you think it looks good? Yes or no?

more here: masterlist, Regulus masterlist

requested by anon.

Regulus Black sat before your grave, his back hunched, his once-impeccable robes now wrinkled and dusted with dirt. His hair, usually neat, hung in unruly strands around his pale face. He hadn't left since your funeral, unable to tear himself away from the cold stone that bore your name. The world had moved on, but he had not. He could not.

The sickness had taken you swiftly, cruelly. One moment, you were laughing with him, teasing him about his brooding nature, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. The next, you were weak, burning with fever, and he was powerless to stop it. Even the best healers could not save you. And now, Regulus was left in a world that no longer made sense, with only memories to replay over and over again in his mind.

He closed his eyes, and for a moment, he was back in the candlelit glow of your shared bedroom, your laughter ringing in his ears. "Regulus, you're staring again," you'd tease, poking his chest as he smirked down at you. "Can you blame me?" he'd reply, pulling you into his arms. But when he opened his eyes, he was alone. Always alone.

The two of you had been caught outside during the season’s first snowfall. You had thrown your head back, eyes wide with delight as you stuck your tongue out to catch the falling flakes. Regulus had only watched, mesmerized. "You look ridiculous," he muttered, but his lips twitched in amusement.

You grinned, tugging on his scarf to pull him closer. "Admit it, you love it."

"I love you," he corrected softly. And as the snow fell around you both, he sealed his words with a kiss, his hands cupping your chilled cheeks.

Regulus lay beside you in bed, staring at the ceiling, while your fingers lazily traced patterns along his arm. "If you could be anywhere, doing anything, where would you be?" you asked.

He turned his head to look at you. "Here. With you."

You rolled your eyes. "That’s a cop-out answer."

He smirked. "It’s the truth."

You huffed, but he could see the warmth in your eyes, the way your lips curled slightly at the edges. You leaned over, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You’re such a sap, Regulus Black."

One evening, long after the world had fallen asleep, you had pulled him to his feet in the sitting room. A record played in the background, its melody soft and crackling with age.

"I don’t dance," he had grumbled.

"Then stand there and let me dance with you," you countered, resting your head against his chest as you swayed gently. Slowly, hesitantly, he moved with you, his arms wrapping around your waist. The world outside did not exist in that moment—only the two of you did.

Regulus had never felt fear like this before. Not in battle, not in the presence of the Dark Lord. Nothing compared to the helplessness that gripped him as he knelt beside you, his hands trembling as they brushed against your fevered skin.

"Love, please," he whispered, his voice raw. "Stay with me. Just a little longer."

You offered him a weak smile, your fingers curling around his wrist. "Reg… don’t look at me like that."

"Like what?" he choked out.

"Like you already think I’m gone."

His throat tightened. He wanted to argue, wanted to tell you that you weren’t allowed to leave him. But even as he held your hand tightly in his own, he could feel you slipping away.

"I don’t know how to live without you," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

You exhaled softly, the weight of exhaustion evident in your features. "You don’t have to. Just… just promise me you’ll keep living. Even when it’s hard."

Regulus swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I can’t."

You gave his hand a faint squeeze. "You can. You’re stronger than you think."

But he wasn’t. He was weak without you. And when your eyes finally fluttered shut, and your grip on his hand loosened, something inside him shattered beyond repair.

Days turned to weeks. Regulus stopped attending Death Eater meetings. The Dark Lord sent summons, but he ignored them. Nothing mattered anymore. He barely ate, barely slept. It was as if he had died with you; only his body remained, trapped in this hollow existence.

The Dark Lord’s patience began to wane. He could not tolerate insubordination, not even from the Black heir. At the next gathering, Regulus's absence did not go unnoticed.

"Where is Regulus?" Voldemort’s voice cut through the room, cold and sharp.

Silence.

Lucius Malfoy cleared his throat, exchanging a glance with the others. "He has… not been well, my Lord."

Voldemort’s expression remained unreadable. "Not well? Or unwilling?"

A heavy tension filled the chamber, the air thick with unspoken fear. Then, with a slow, deliberate nod, he turned his gaze to Narcissa Malfoy.

"Go to him," he commanded. "Remind him where his loyalties lie. And if he refuses to remember… persuade him."

Bellatrix Lestrange let out a sharp laugh, the kind that sent a chill down the spine. "Oh, dearest cousin has lost his spirit?" she cooed, her dark eyes glittering with amusement. "Mourning a little lost love? How... pathetic."

Narcissa shot her sister a warning look before bowing her head to the Dark Lord. "I will see to it, my Lord."

Bellatrix sneered. "And if he does not listen?"

"Then we ensure he does," Voldemort replied simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Narcissa arrived at Grimmauld Place within the hour, her expression composed but laced with concern. She knew grief. She knew how it twisted inside a person, warping their reality, making the rest of the world fade to nothing. But she also knew the cost of disobedience.

She found Regulus where she expected—by your grave. His head was bowed, his fingers tracing the etched letters of your name. He did not look up as she approached, did not acknowledge her presence.

"Regulus," she said softly, kneeling beside him. "You have to come inside. You’ll make yourself ill."

He did not move.

She reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "She wouldn't want this for you. She loved you, Regulus. You think she would want you wasting away like this?"

His voice, when he finally spoke, was hoarse from disuse. "Don’t. You don’t understand, Cissy."

"I do understand," she countered, squeezing his arm. "But I also understand that the Dark Lord does not tolerate weakness. He sent me here to remind you of that."

Regulus exhaled sharply, finally lifting his gaze to her. His eyes were hollow, void of the sharp intellect that had once defined him. "Let him kill me, then. It would be easier."

Narcissa’s stomach clenched at his words, but before she could respond, the fireplace in the house roared to life, signaling another arrival.

Bellatrix.

She strode into the clearing like a phantom of death, her wand twirling between her fingers as she observed the pathetic sight before her.

"Look at you," she taunted, tilting her head. "The great Regulus Black, reduced to nothing more than a lovesick fool." She sighed, shaking her head dramatically. "What a waste."

Regulus did not react, not even as she stepped closer. Bellatrix crouched before him, her dark curls falling over her shoulder as she studied him with twisted fascination.

"You think grieving makes you noble?" she whispered mockingly. "It makes you weak. She’s gone. Dead. Nothing you do will bring her back."

Regulus's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. "Shut up."

Bellatrix grinned. "There’s fire in you still. Good. You’ll need it when the Dark Lord decides you are no longer worth keeping."

Narcissa rose to her feet, stepping between them. "That’s enough, Bella."

Bellatrix huffed, rolling her eyes. "Enough? Oh, dearest sister, our cousin here needs a lesson in duty."

Regulus finally looked up, his gaze meeting Bellatrix's with something dangerous simmering beneath the emptiness. "My duty?" he echoed. "Tell me, Bella—what would you do if it were Rodolphus? If he was the one buried here?"

For the first time, Bellatrix faltered. It was brief, barely noticeable, but it was there, a flicker of something human beneath her insanity.

She scoffed, straightening up, mask falling back into place. "That’s the difference between us, dear cousin. I would not be weak enough to let love ruin me."

Regulus gave a hollow laugh, shaking his head. "Then I pity you."

Bellatrix’s eyes darkened, but before she could retort, Narcissa stepped forward, voice firm. "That’s enough. We came here for one reason."

She turned to Regulus, her expression softening. "Come back, Regulus. At least pretend, for your sake. If you keep ignoring the Dark Lord’s summons, it will not be my voice or Bella’s he sends next."

Regulus looked at her for a long moment before exhaling, the weight of his grief pressing down on him. "Fine," he murmured. "I’ll come."

Bellatrix smirked. "Smart boy."

But as Regulus stood, casting one last glance at your grave, he knew the truth.

He would never truly return. Because a part of him had died with you, and no amount of pretending could change that.

A few days later, the night was thick with smoke, the air filled with the distant echoes of screams and the crackling of fire. The raid was nothing new, another display of the Dark Lord’s power, another night of violence. Regulus moved through the wreckage like a specter, his wand gripped tightly in his fingers, his expression empty.

The mission had been simple: take down those who resisted, leave an example behind. It should have been nothing more than another task to complete. And yet, something in Regulus had cracked.

His wand was raised, the curse spilling from his lips before he had even registered the words.

“Crucio.”

The man collapsed instantly, his back arching off the ground as if an invisible force had seized his spine and twisted it. A raw, guttural scream tore from his throat, his fingers clawing desperately at the dirt, nails breaking as he convulsed. His legs jerked uncontrollably, his body writhing like a trapped insect beneath a magnifying glass, unable to escape the unbearable fire coursing through his veins.

Regulus didn’t blink. Didn’t waver. His arm remained steady, his grip on his wand firm. The screaming filled his ears, louder than the roaring flames consuming the house behind them, louder than the shouted orders of other Death Eaters in the distance. It should have been enough. But it wasn’t.

“Crucio.”

Another wave of agony slammed into the man’s already broken body. He choked on his breath, gasping as though drowning, his limbs seizing up before thrashing violently against the cobbled ground. His skin was slick with sweat, his face contorted into something beyond recognition—beyond human. A broken animal, screaming for mercy that would never come.

Regulus’s heart pounded against his ribs, his fingers twitching as he tightened his hold on his wand. The pain in the man’s eyes—it reflected something back at him. Something raw. Something that made his own grief flare like an open wound. He wanted to stop feeling nothing. He wanted to make the world feel what he did.

“Good,” a voice purred from behind him.

Bellatrix.

Her presence slithered through the smoke like a serpent, her dark eyes gleaming with sadistic delight as she watched him work. She stepped closer, her breath warm against his ear. “Again.”

Regulus hesitated for only a second before his grip tightened once more. The man on the ground barely had the strength to whimper, his body twitching, his consciousness fraying at the edges. His breaths came in wet, strangled gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head. He was close to the edge, teetering between agony and oblivion.

Bellatrix chuckled, her voice dripping with approval. “Yes, dear cousin, let him suffer. Make him beg.”

Regulus’s expression was unreadable, his heart hammering. He lifted his wand once more, ready to cast again, to drag the man deeper into suffering. To let the pain swallow them both whole.

And yet, as he stared down at the broken body beneath him, something twisted in his chest. The man’s face was a mess of blood, sweat, and agony. His fingers twitched, his body barely responding to the torture anymore. He was nothing but a shell now.

Regulus took a slow breath and lowered his wand.

Bellatrix’s smile faltered, her excitement giving way to scrutiny. “Why did you stop?”

Regulus didn’t answer. He turned away from the broken man at his feet and walked past her, his expression void of anything. Bellatrix watched him go, amusement flickering in her gaze.

“Oh, cousin,” she whispered, laughter dancing on her lips. “The Dark Lord will be so pleased.”

Regulus didn’t react. He just kept walking, the man’s screams still ringing in his ears, merging with the ghosts of the past he could never escape.

Another raid. Another night drenched in screams and the scent of burning wood. The world around Regulus was a blur of fire and shadows, but none of it truly touched him. He moved as if in a trance, detached from the chaos that once might have rattled him. Nothing mattered anymore.

The target of their raid had been reduced to a heap of trembling limbs, barely clinging to consciousness. A once-proud wizard, now on his knees in the mud, his body wrecked with exhaustion and pain. Regulus stood over him, wand still raised, breath slow and measured. He didn’t even remember how long he had been casting.

Death Eaters gathered in a loose circle around them, the flickering firelight illuminating their masks, their dark robes shifting like shadows. Some watched in silence, arms crossed, their expressions hidden but their satisfaction clear. Others smirked, whispering amongst themselves, reveling in the spectacle. This was entertainment. A lesson. A show of power.

“Crucio.”

A gurgled scream ripped from the man’s throat, his head snapping back as another wave of unimaginable pain consumed him. He twitched and writhed, his fingers digging into the dirt as if the earth itself could save him. But there was no salvation. No mercy.

Bellatrix’s laughter echoed through the ruined village, a sweet and cruel melody that slithered into Regulus’s ears. She stood nearby, watching him with an indulgent sort of pleasure.

“That’s it, darling,” she cooed, stepping closer. “Feel it. Let it consume you.”

Regulus tightened his grip on his wand, watching the way the man’s body spasmed, his eyes rolling back, his screams hoarse and broken. He should have stopped. This should have sickened him. But all he felt was the void.

“Again,” Bellatrix urged, voice thick with delight.

Regulus obeyed. The curse tore from his lips once more, and the man shrieked, though his body was barely responding now. He was slipping, teetering on the edge of death, barely holding onto life by the frayed strings of his shattered nerves.

Bellatrix stepped around Regulus, her movements slow, predatory. She knelt beside the broken man, running a gloved finger through the blood seeping into the mud.

“See how beautiful suffering can be?” she murmured, her gaze flicking up to meet Regulus’s. “You understand it now, don’t you?”

From the corner of his eye, Regulus saw some of the Death Eaters nodding approvingly, their postures relaxed, satisfied. Others murmured to one another, their voices thick with amusement, speaking as if this were nothing more than a game.

Regulus didn’t answer. His wand was still raised, his heart hammering beneath his ribs. He wasn’t sure if it was from exhilaration or sickness. He wasn’t sure if he cared.

Bellatrix smirked, her dark eyes dancing with a manic sort of glee.

“The Dark Lord will be pleased,” she said, almost sing-song. “You’re finally becoming who you were meant to be.”

Regulus swallowed hard, his fingers tingling from the magic coursing through him. His chest felt hollow, his veins filled with ice. He didn’t look at the man he had broken. He didn’t want to.

Instead, he turned away, stepping over the crumpled body as if it were nothing more than debris in his path.

Bellatrix followed him, still smiling, still watching.

The Death Eaters parted as he passed, some murmuring words of approval, others giving him silent nods of respect. This was his place now. This was who they believed he was becoming.

But Regulus felt nothing. Nothing at all.

The first time Regulus killed someone after your death, it wasn’t intentional. At least, not in the beginning.

The raid had gone as all the others did, rushed movements, shouts, spells flying through the air like lightning, the scent of burning wood and flesh thickening the night. Regulus had been moving on instinct, his mind caught somewhere between the present and the past, the ghosts of his memories keeping him at a cruel distance from reality. He barely registered the man he had cornered, barely recognized the wand shaking in the desperate grip of someone who had already lost.

It should have been over quickly. Stun him. Leave him. Move on. But something snapped.

The man had looked up at him, eyes wide, pleading, and there was something—something in his expression.

It was the way his lips parted, the way his chest heaved, the way his entire body braced for the worst but still hoped, still begged for mercy. It was the same way you had looked at Regulus once. The same way you had reached for him in your final moments, fingers weak, trembling, before they had gone cold against his skin.

His wand moved before he could think.

“Crucio.”

The man screamed.

Regulus had cast the curse before, had heard the sound of agony a hundred times over. But this was different. This wasn’t calculated. This wasn’t controlled. It was raw, vicious, and desperate. He poured everything into it—his grief, his rage, his emptiness. He watched as the man writhed beneath the force of his magic, body twisting unnaturally, breath choking in his throat as his screams turned ragged.

And Regulus didn’t stop.

He barely noticed when the others fell silent around him, when the fight moved on, when the only sound left in the alley was the crackling fire and the wet gasps of a dying man. His hand was shaking, grip tight around his wand as though it were the only thing tethering him to the world.

The man stopped moving. His chest barely rose. His fingers twitched, his mouth opened, whether to speak or to breathe, Regulus would never know. Because, in that next instant, the last thread of life snapped, and he was gone.

Regulus stared down at him, at the way the light had left his eyes, at the way his body had gone slack in the dirt, at the way his blood soaked into the ground as if the earth itself was eager to erase his existence.

He waited for the guilt. He waited for the satisfaction. He waited for anything at all.

But there was nothing. No regret. No triumph. No relief.

Just emptiness.

A void where something should have been.

And as the night stretched on, as the echoes of death faded into the wind, Regulus realized that maybe, just maybe, there was nothing left of him to save.

Regulus hadn’t looked at himself in weeks. Maybe months. There was no need. He already knew what he would see—someone who wasn’t really alive anymore. A hollowed-out thing, a ghost wrapped in skin.

But tonight, something had drawn his eyes to the mirror.

It was accidental. He had stumbled into the Black family bathroom after another sleepless night, reaching for the basin to splash water on his face. But then his gaze flickered up, and there he was.

He froze.

The man staring back wasn’t him. He looked sickly, his once-pale skin now ashen, stretched thin over his sharp cheekbones. The deep shadows beneath his eyes made them look sunken, like the empty sockets of a corpse. His lips were chapped, bloodied in places where he had bitten them raw without realizing it. His dark curls, once so carefully combed, were a tangled, matted mess.

His mother would have been horrified. His father, disgusted. He might have cared once.

Regulus gripped the edge of the sink, his knuckles turning white. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring, unable to look away. A thought flickered through his mind—how much he looked like you in the last days before you died. How the sickness had drained the life from your body, how your eyes had dulled, how you had wasted away until there was nothing left but a fragile shadow of the person you once were.

You were dead.

And he was still here. Why?

Something cracked inside him, something he had been holding together for too long. His breath hitched, his vision blurred, and suddenly he was moving, his hand lashing out before he could stop himself.

The mirror shattered.

The pieces clattered to the floor, sharp fragments catching the dim candlelight, scattering across the black-and-white tiles. He stared down at them, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, his fingers shaking. Blood dripped from his knuckles where the glass had sliced him, but he barely felt the pain.

It was quiet now.

Too quiet.

His reflection was gone. No more proof that he was still here, that he was still breathing when you weren’t.

He slumped to the floor, his back against the sink, staring blankly at the broken shards surrounding him. It felt fitting. Like his body had finally caught up with the state of his soul.

He wasn’t sure how long he had sat there. Minutes. Hours. Maybe forever. The thought of moving, of getting up and continuing like nothing had happened, felt impossible. The weight in his chest, the crushing emptiness inside him, was too much.

And for the first time, he didn’t want to fight it.

The thought came slowly, creeping in like a whisper in the back of his mind, curling around him like smoke.

It would be easier. To just… stop.

To close his eyes and never open them again. To let go.

He wasn’t scared. He had nothing left to be afraid of. No one left to disappoint.

You were waiting for him. Somewhere out there, beyond all of this, you were waiting.

Regulus let his head fall back against the cabinet, his bloodied hand going limp at his side. He exhaled slowly, almost peacefully.

Maybe it was time to go home. Go back home to you.

The cave was silent, save for the rhythmic lapping of the dark lake against the stone. The air was damp, thick with the scent of decay, of something ancient and long-forgotten. Regulus stood at the water’s edge, his wand raised, the golden locket heavy in his trembling hand.

This was it. His final act of defiance.

He had spent so long lost in grief, spiraling deeper into the abyss of the Dark Lord’s service, hollowed out by your absence. He had tried to fill that void with cruelty, with violence, with mindless obedience. But none of it had numbed the agony of losing you. And now, he stood here, at the edge of his own demise, finally understanding what you would have wanted for him.

He wasn’t meant to be this. He wasn’t meant to be a monster.

“Kreacher,” he whispered. The elf trembled beside him, eyes wide with terror. “Take this. Go. Destroy it.” He forced the locket into Kreacher’s small hands, curling the elf’s fingers around it.

“But Master Regulus—” Kreacher’s voice cracked.

“Please,” Regulus breathed, kneeling before the only soul who had remained loyal to him. “You must live. You must finish what I started.”

Tears burned his eyes as he thought of you, of the way you would have scolded him for throwing his life away, for giving up. But this wasn’t giving up, was it? This was finally doing something right.

Kreacher vanished with a crack.

And then, the water stirred.

Cold fingers clawed at the air, skeletal hands breaking through the surface. The Inferi moved unnaturally, jerking toward him with silent, gaping mouths. He lifted his wand, but he already knew—there was no escaping this.

His body screamed to fight, to run, but Regulus let himself sink to his knees. A hand gripped his wrist, another clawed at his shoulder, and suddenly he was being pulled under, the icy water swallowing him whole.

Darkness wrapped around him, numbing his limbs, slowing his heart. He exhaled a shuddering breath, bubbles escaping his lips as the last remnants of air left his lungs. He didn’t fight. He didn’t thrash. He simply closed his eyes and let the memory of you carry him away.

Your laughter. Your warmth. The way you whispered his name like it was something sacred.

He saw you waiting for him in the depths, reaching out, just as you had before you were taken from him. And as the abyss claimed him, for the first time since your death, he felt peace.

Your name was the last thing that left his lips before the darkness took him forever.

When Regulus opened his eyes, he was somewhere else. The cold was gone, the suffocating weight of water no longer pressing against his lungs. Instead, there was light—soft, warm, golden light. The kind he had only seen in dreams.

And then he saw you.

You stood before him, untouched by time, just as he remembered you—beautiful, radiant, alive. His breath hitched, his chest tightening as he stumbled forward, almost afraid that if he touched you, you would disappear.

But you didn’t.

The moment his arms wrapped around you, the dam inside him shattered. A sob ripped from his throat, raw and broken, and he clung to you as if he were drowning all over again. His fingers dug into you, desperate, needing to make sure this was real, that you were real.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, burying his face in your shoulder. “I’m so—so sorry.”

Your hands came up, running through his dark hair, soothing, grounding. “Shh, Regulus,” you murmured. “It’s over. You’re safe now.”

But he wasn’t sure he deserved to be. He had done terrible things. He had let grief consume him, let it turn him into something unrecognizable. He had been lost for so long.

Yet, in your arms, he finally felt found.

You pulled back just enough to cup his face, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. “You did the right thing,” you whispered. “You’re here now. With me.”

Regulus let out another broken sob, pressing his forehead against yours. For the first time in what felt like eternity, the void inside him wasn’t empty anymore. He was home.

With you.

i have a headcannon that paul was a goofy child growing up and often gave his parents headaches.

The End !

A few years later, when the children of Hazzy and Danny are about to enter Hogwarts.

Regulus Black x Fem! reader

word count: 1.6k

no warnings, just fluff and a bit of comedy

note: The end of the series! I've had a wonderful time writing this series soo..!!

check more here: masterlist, Regulus Masterlist

The air at Platform 9¾ buzzed with excitement, the steam from the Hogwarts Express curling around the crowd in wisps of white. The familiar sounds of chatter, last-minute reminders, and tearful goodbyes filled the air.

Harry Potter-Black stood with his arms crossed, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips as he watched the next generation of witches and wizards prepare to leave for Hogwarts. Beside him, his younger sister, Danny Lestrange née Black, adjusted the collar of her son’s robes with sharp precision.

“Cass, stop fidgeting,” she muttered, fixing her daughter with a pointed look.

Cassiopeia Lestrange, her dark curls a perfect blend of both parents, huffed dramatically. “I just don’t want to look messy, Mum.”

“You’re going to Hogwarts, not the Wizengamot,” Danny deadpanned, before turning to her son. “Arcturus, you excited?”

Arcturus Lestrange, slightly more reserved than his twin, nodded. “Yeah… I think so. But what if I’m not in Slytherin?”

Danny softened slightly, kneeling so she was at eye level with him. “Then you won’t be in Slytherin. It doesn’t matter where you end up. You’re still a Lestrange—" she ignored Harry’s amused cough at that, "—and more importantly, you’re our son. So wherever you go, you’ll be great.”

Arcturus brightened a little.

Harry, watching the exchange, smirked. “You sound just like Baba.”

Danny scoffed. “Of course I do.”

Ginny, standing beside Harry, rolled her eyes. “And you sound just like Y/N. All sharp words but way too soft on the inside.”

Harry huffed. “I do not.”

Danny and Ginny exchanged a knowing look.

A tug on his sleeve made Harry glance down. His eldest child, a boy with messy black hair and warm brown eyes, grinned up at him.

“Dad, tell me again about the first time you went to Hogwarts?”

Harry chuckled and ruffled his son’s hair. “You ever hear of a troll in the dungeons on your first night?”

James Sirius Potter gasped, while Cassiopeia and Arcturus leaned in, wide-eyed.

Danny rolled her eyes. “Don’t scare them.”

“I’m not scaring them. I’m preparing them,” Harry said with mock seriousness.

“More like giving them ideas,” Ginny muttered, shaking her head.

The train whistle blew, signaling the final boarding call.

Danny sighed, her expression softening as she looked at her twins. “Alright, go on then.”

Cassiopeia and Arcturus hesitated, glancing between their parents.

“Go,” Adrian said, gently nudging them forward. “You’re going to be late.”

Finally, the twins ran off, dragging their trunks behind them.

James Sirius looked up at his parents. “I have to go too, right?”

Harry swallowed thickly, nodding. “Yeah, kiddo. You do.”

James’s grin wobbled just slightly, and Harry knelt, gripping his son’s shoulders. “Listen to me. You’re going to have the best time. You’ve got your cousins, and you’re James Sirius Potter. You’ve got troublemaker written all over you.”

James smirked. “Like you?”

Harry laughed. “Exactly.”

Ginny leaned down, pressing a kiss to James’s forehead. “Be good. Write to us.”

James groaned. “Mum…”

“I mean it, James,” she said firmly, though her eyes were warm.

He nodded before hugging her quickly. “Okay, okay.”

With a final grin, James sprinted toward the train.

Cassiopeia and Arcturus stuck their heads out of the window, waving wildly.

“Write to us!” Danny called.

“And don’t get into too much trouble!” Harry added.

Cassiopeia just grinned. “No promises!”

Danny groaned. “Oh, Merlin, she’s just like you.”

Harry smirked. “And Arcturus is just like you. Broody and dramatic.”

Danny rolled her eyes before glancing at her older brother. “Think they’ll be as much trouble as us?”

Harry smirked. “Absolutely.”

Danny shook her head, but her lips twitched into a smile as the train disappeared into the horizon.

Standing there, side by side, Harry and Danny realized something.

They had survived a war. They had lost people they loved. They had fought for everything they had.

And now, as they stood on Platform 9¾, watching their children set off on their own journey, they knew—

The next generation would carry on the legacy.

Regulus let out a long, slow breath as the Hogwarts Express disappeared from sight, the last wisps of steam curling into the sky. He glanced over at Y/N, who was standing beside him, an unreadable expression on her face.

“…We did it,” Y/N finally murmured.

Regulus nodded, rubbing his temple. “Yes. Finally. After years of raising two children and their equally troublesome partners, they’re all at Hogwarts.”

A beat of silence passed between them.

Then, in perfect unison, they turned to each other and blurted out—

“We’re alone.”

Y/N grabbed Regulus’s collar, eyes wide. “Reg, we’re alone.”

Regulus’s lips parted in pure realization. “No children. No late-night sneaking for cookies. No twin catastrophes. No Quidditch injuries. No Hazzy breaking things in the house.”

“No one walking in on us when we’re—”

Regulus pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes darting to where Harry and Danny were still standing with Ginny and Adrian, their attention thankfully elsewhere. “Shh, don’t jinx it.”

Y/N grinned against his hand before pulling it away. “Reg, do you know what this means?”

He tilted his head. “We can have tea in peace?”

“Yes, and—”

“We can read without someone interrupting us?”

“That too, but—”

“We can sleep past six in the morning?”

Y/N groaned. “Reg, I meant we can finally have a night alone.”

Regulus blinked.

Then, very seriously, he took Y/N’s hands in his and whispered, “Darling, I love you more than life itself, but if we don’t go home and take a nap first, I will pass out in this station.”

Y/N sighed dramatically, but her smirk betrayed her amusement. “Fine, old man.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “That’s rich, coming from someone who—”

Before he could finish, a crack echoed behind them.

“Oi, where are you two sneaking off to?”

They turned to see Sirius standing there, grinning like an absolute menace. Next to him was Remus, who was already shaking his head as if he knew what was coming.

Regulus groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Merlin, no.”

Y/N sighed. “Sirius, please tell me you’re not about to ruin the first peaceful moment we’ve had in years.”

Sirius gasped mockingly. “Ruin? Moi?”

Regulus turned on his heel. “I’m leaving. Goodbye.”

Y/N turned to follow him, only for Sirius to throw an arm around both of them. “Now, now, don’t be hasty! What if I told you that Moony and I have a brilliant idea?”

Regulus deadpanned. “Your ‘brilliant ideas’ landed me in detention for half my school career.”

Remus, ever the peacekeeper, cleared his throat. “We thought, since you’re finally free of parental duties for the time being, we’d take you both out for a celebratory drink.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Regulus.

Regulus stared at them both. Then, after a long pause, he exhaled. “Fine. One drink.”

Sirius whooped. “That’s the spirit, little brother!”

Y/N smirked, looping her arm through Regulus’s. “Alright then. But if anyone interrupts our first actual night alone after this, I will commit crimes.”

Sirius grinned. “Now that’s the Y/N I know.”

Regulus muttered under his breath, but Y/N caught the fond glint in his eye as they all walked off together.

Maybe they’d get their peaceful night soon.

…Hopefully.

For the first time in years, Regulus and Y/N found themselves sitting across from each other at a dimly lit, elegant restaurant—alone. No children, no interruptions, no impromptu crises requiring immediate parental intervention. Just them, a bottle of wine, and a table set for two.

Regulus exhaled, leaning back in his chair as he swirled the wine in his glass. “It’s almost unsettling, isn’t it?”

Y/N smirked, taking a sip of her own. “That we’re not breaking up sibling arguments or stopping the twins from attempting another ‘scientific experiment’? Absolutely.”

Regulus huffed. “Last time, they nearly set my study on fire. I still don’t know how they got their hands on Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.”

Y/N grinned. “They are our grandchildren.”

Regulus sighed, shaking his head. “Unfortunately.”

A comfortable silence settled between them as they enjoyed their meal. It was almost strange, remembering what it felt like to just be—without parenting, without work, without constant noise.

Regulus watched Y/N as she ate, the candlelight flickering against her face. “You know,” he said, setting down his fork, “I forgot how nice it is to just sit and look at you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “I’m in our house every day, Reg.”

“Yes, but usually, I’m dodging incoming Quidditch gear, confiscating enchanted objects, or ensuring that Hazzy and Danny’s children don’t turn the furniture into something alive.” He smirked. “You’re a bit of a blur in the chaos.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched into a smile. “Well, go on then. Stare all you want.”

Regulus took full advantage of the invitation, his gaze lingering on her with quiet appreciation. “You’re just as breathtaking as the day I met you.”

Y/N felt warmth creep up her neck. “You always were a dramatic bastard.”

“And yet, you married me.”

“Terrible life choice, really.”

Regulus smirked, lifting his glass. “To terrible life choices, then.”

Y/N clinked her glass against his. “To us.”

For a while, they simply enjoyed the moment. The peace. The feeling of being Regulus and Y/N instead of Baba and Mama.

Then, just as their dessert arrived, Regulus stiffened.

“What?” Y/N asked, confused.

Regulus narrowed his eyes toward the entrance.

There, just outside the restaurant, were Harry and Danny, peeking through the window with identical grins.

“…They followed us,” Regulus muttered, looking personally betrayed.

Y/N groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Unbelievable.”

Danny waved innocently. Harry gave a thumbs-up.

Regulus lifted his napkin and covered his face. “I’m pretending I don’t see them.”

Y/N took a long sip of wine. “We raised menaces.”

“Your fault.”

“You married me.”

Regulus sighed, peeking over his napkin. Danny and Harry were still there. Watching. Grinning.

“We’re locking the Floo when we get home,” Regulus mumbled.

Y/N smirked. “Deal.”

previous chapter <-

changed my navigation again... looks good? need thoughts

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀

🌟 = 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 :

A candy-coated boop 🌟

A bit of love and chocolate 🌟

SERIES:

(not yet available)

BLURBS:

(not yet available)

Timothée Chalamet on the Spanish steps in Rome✨

IG credit to holycolorfulpig

The adventures of Danny and Hazzy

Harry and Danny growing up in the Potter-Black household.

[Regulus Black x fem Potter! reader}

word count: 4.1k

warnings: a lot of fluff, Y/N and Regulus kissing at the end

6 MONTH OLD DANNY AND FOUR-YEAR-OLD HARRY 

The Black-Potter household was filled with soft giggles and the occasional delighted squeal. Six-month-old Danica or Danny as Harry fondly called her, sat propped up with pillows on a blanket spread across the living room floor. Her dark curls were already forming wild ringlets, and her bright gray eyes tracked her big brother's every movement.

"Look, Danny! It's a flying hippogriff!" Harry declared, holding a stuffed hippogriff in the air and zooming it around with exaggerated whooshing noises. He had charmed it to hover slightly, the wings flapping as it circled Danny's head.

Danny blinked, then let out a squeal of laughter, her tiny hands reaching up to grasp at the toy. When the hippogriff dipped low enough, she latched on with surprising strength, pulling it down and gnawing on the soft beak with a satisfied coo.

"You're a natural beast-tamer," Harry said, lying down next to her. He tapped her nose gently. "But you can't eat a hippogriff, Danny. That's rude."

Danny babbled in response, releasing the toy to pat Harry's cheek with a slobbery hand. Harry made a dramatic choking sound. "Ah! Baby drool! My one weakness!"

He flopped backward with a groan, limbs sprawled dramatically. Danny stared at him for a moment, then let out a delighted shriek, her tiny body bouncing with excitement.

From the doorway, Y/N and Regulus watched the scene unfold. Y/N's arms were crossed, a smile softening her face. "I give it three seconds before she crawls after him," she whispered.

"Two," Regulus corrected.

As if on cue, Danny tipped forward, arms wobbling as she pushed herself toward her brother. Her movements were clumsy but determined, her little fists digging into the blanket.

"She's doing it!" Y/N breathed.

"Go, Danny!" Regulus encouraged softly.

Harry peeked through one eye when he heard the rustling. His mouth dropped open. "You're crawling!" he gasped, sitting up. "Go, Danny, go!"

Danny let out a gurgling laugh as she reached Harry's knee and promptly face-planted into his leg. Unbothered, she turned her head to grin up at him, her cheeks flushed with effort.

"You're the best little sister ever," Harry said, scooping her into his arms. He stood and turned toward their parents. "Mama! Baba! Did you see? She crawled!"

"We saw, sweetheart," Y/N said, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand.

Regulus stepped forward and ruffled Harry's hair. "Good job, big brother. Looks like she's trying to keep up with you already."

Danny babbled happily from Harry's arms, then stuck her thumb in her mouth and leaned against his chest, suddenly exhausted from her grand adventure.

"She's gonna be unstoppable," Harry said proudly.

Y/N wrapped an arm around Regulus's waist and smiled. "She already is."

TWO-YEAR-OLD DANNY AND FIVE-YEAR-OLD HARRY

The Black-Potter household was rarely quiet these days, not with a curious, toddling two-year-old exploring every corner and a protective big brother trailing after her like a miniature sentry.

"Hazzy!" Danny's delighted voice rang through the sitting room as she toddled across the rug on unsteady legs. Her chubby arms were outstretched toward her brother, who knelt with his arms wide open.

"That's me!" Harry said with a grin, scooping her up and twirling her around. "Hazzy is here to save the day!"

Danny squealed with laughter, her dark curls bouncing with each spin. "Hazzy! Hazzy!"

From the armchair, Y/N smiled over her cup of tea. "Still not calling you Harry, huh?"

"Nope," Harry said, plopping down on the couch with Danny nestled against him. "I've tried to teach her, but she just keeps saying 'Hazzy.'"

"It's cute," Y/N said softly, watching as Danny poked at the buttons on Harry's sweater.

The sound of the front door opening interrupted their moment. Danny's eyes lit up, and she scrambled out of Harry's lap, nearly tripping over her own feet.

"Baba!" she cried, sprinting toward the hallway.

"Danny!" Regulus's voice answered with equal enthusiasm.

By the time he entered the room, he had Danny perched on his hip, her tiny hands clinging to his collar. His usually composed expression was softened into a rare, tender smile.

"And how's my little morning star today?" he asked, brushing her curls away from her face.

"Hazzy play!" she announced proudly.

"Ah, yes. The famous Hazzy." Regulus's gray eyes flicked to Harry with a smirk. "How are you handling your new identity, son?"

Harry shrugged. "I've accepted my fate."

Danny giggled and buried her face in Regulus's neck.

"She's been chasing him around all day," Y/N said with a laugh.

"Hazzy run fast," Danny agreed, peeking out with wide grey eyes. "Danny run too!"

"Oh, do you now?" Regulus asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well, maybe Baba will have to race you later."

"Race!" Danny pumped her fists in the air.

Regulus sat beside Y/N, his arm resting along the back of the couch. Danny squirmed until she was back on the floor, wobbling over to Harry.

"Hazzy, run!" she commanded.

Harry gave his parents an exaggerated sigh. "Duty calls," he said before launching into a playful chase.

Y/N leaned her head on Regulus's shoulder, watching them with a soft smile.

"She's getting so big," she murmured.

"Too big," Regulus agreed. "And that name's going to stick, isn't it?"

"Absolutely," Y/N said, laughing as Harry darted around the coffee table with Danny hot on his heels. "Hazzy's here to stay."

And as Danny's delighted laughter echoed through the house, it was hard to imagine life any other way.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting golden patterns across the bedroom floor. Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open just as the door creaked. She turned her head and smiled softly at the sight of Harry and Danny standing in the doorway, hand-in-hand.

Harry's chesnut hair stuck up in every direction, defying gravity as usual, while Danny's black curls were tangled into an impressive bird's nest. The two siblings were still in their pajamas: Harry's covered in faded Quidditch brooms, Danny's patterned with tiny moon and stars.

"Hazzy," Danny whispered, tugging on her brother's hand. "Mama wake?"

"Yeah, Danny," Harry reassured her, squeezing her fingers. "See? Mama's awake."

Y/N sat up, tucking the blanket around her legs. "Good morning, my loves," she greeted softly.

Danny beamed, revealing the gap where her front tooth had recently fallen out. "Mama!" She let go of Harry's hand and barreled across the room, climbing clumsily onto the bed. "I had dream 'bout dragon!"

"Did you?" Y/N caught her daughter and pulled her into her lap. "Was it scary?"

Danny shook her head fiercely. "No! Big dragon, nice dragon! Hazzy say it like Uncle Charlie's dragon."

"Ah," Y/N chuckled, glancing toward Harry as he shuffled into the room. "Your brother knows a lot about dragons."

Harry gave a sheepish smile and climbed onto the bed beside them. "I just told her about Norberta," he said, leaning into his mother's side. "Danny likes dragons now."

"I see," Y/N mused, brushing Danny's wild curls with her fingers. "Maybe one day we'll visit Uncle Charlie in Romania and see real dragons."

Danny gasped. "We go? See dragon?"

"One day," Y/N promised.

The sound of footsteps interrupted them. Regulus appeared in the doorway, hair tousled and wand in hand, eyes sharp until he took in the sight before him. "Merlin," he exhaled, lowering his wand. "I thought I heard an intruder."

"Hazzy and Danny," Danny said proudly, throwing her arms wide. "Not 'truder!"

Regulus grinned and crossed the room, sliding his wand into his pajama pocket. "No, you and your brother are definitely not intruders." He sat on the edge of the bed and ruffled Harry's hair, not that it made any difference. "Why are you two up so early?"

"Danny had a dragon dream," Harry answered, tilting his head toward his sister. "Wanted Mama and Baba to know."

Regulus nodded solemnly. "Dreams about dragons are very important. Good thing you told us, Danny."

Danny's eyes sparkled. "I 'member the dragon name!"

"Oh?" Y/N asked. "What's its name, sweetheart?"

Danny scrunched her nose in thought, then declared, "Spork!"

There was a beat of silence before Harry snorted with laughter. "Spork? That's not a dragon name!"

"Is too!" Danny huffed.

"Spork the Dragon," Regulus said with mock seriousness. "A fearsome creature is known across the land for its...sporkiness."

Harry collapsed into giggles, and Danny clapped her hands in delight. Y/N just shook her head fondly. "You're encouraging her."

"Absolutely," Regulus said, reaching out to pull Y/N closer. "She gets her creativity from you."

Danny snuggled into Y/N's lap, thumb slipping into her mouth as the excitement wore off. Harry stretched and leaned against Regulus's shoulder.

"Family nap?" Y/N suggested.

"Family nap," Regulus agreed, flicking his wand to dim the sunlight.

Soon, tangled curls and messy hair were nestled together in a cozy, sleepy pile of warmth and love.

The snow had fallen thick and heavy overnight, blanketing the Black-Potter garden in a pristine, shimmering layer of white. From the warmth of the living room, three-year-old Danica Potter-Black pressed her nose against the frosted window, her wide gray eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Hazzy! Hazzy!" she squealed, spinning around and racing toward her brother. Her curls bounced wildly with each step. "Look! Snow! Lots and lots!"

Harry, now seven years old and quite proud of his 'big brother' status, looked up from the enchanted chessboard where his pieces were grumbling about his last move. He followed her pointing finger to the window and grinned. "You wanna go build a snowman?"

"Yes! Yes! Snowman!" Danny clapped her hands, hopping in place.

"Okay, okay! Let's get our coats."

The two of them bundled up under Y/N's watchful eye. Harry wriggled into his green scarf while Danny impatiently thrust her tiny arms into her puffy coat. Her mittens dangled from strings through the sleeves, and Harry helped her tug them on properly.

"Be careful out there, you two," Y/N called from the door. "And don't eat the snow unless you're sure it's clean!"

"Mama!" Danny giggled. "I'm not gonna eat snow!"

"We'll be careful!" Harry promised.

The garden was a winter wonderland. Their boots crunched on the fresh snow, and their breath clouded in the crisp air. Harry immediately started rolling a ball for the base of their snowman. Danny tried to mimic him, but her ball mostly crumbled.

"Hazzy," she pouted, "mine's not workin'."

"Here, like this." Harry knelt beside her, guiding her hands to press the snow gently and roll it across the ground. "See?"

"Ooooh! I do it!" Danny's face lit up as her snowball grew.

Together, they built a lopsided but proud snowman. Danny insisted he needed a 'silly face,' so Harry found sticks for the arms while she stuck stones into the snow in a haphazard grin. Harry placed his own scarf around its neck and stepped back. "What do you think?"

Danny squinted critically at their creation. "Hazzy, he's cold."

"Well...yeah," Harry said, puzzled. "He's a snowman."

"Needs a hat," she declared. "For warm!"

"Okay, let's get one."

The door opened before they reached the house. Regulus stood there, holding a knitted hat with a bemused expression. "I heard we have a cold snowman in need of a hat?"

"Baba!" Danny ran to him, wrapping her arms around his leg. "We made a snowman! Hazzy helped!"

"I saw," Regulus said, placing the hat on her head for a moment before transferring it to the snowman's icy head. "Looks like a very happy snowman."

Danny beamed and turned back to the snowman. "Now he's warm," she said with satisfaction.

Harry ruffled her hair. "Good job, Snow Queen."

Danny giggled, reaching for a handful of snow. Without warning, she flung it at Harry. It splattered against his coat.

"Oh, you're in for it now!" Harry scooped up snow in both hands.

Screaming with laughter, Danny tried to dodge but ended up flat on her back in the snow, her curls dusted white. "Hazzy! Noooo!"

Regulus shook his head with a smile, leaning against the doorframe as his children tumbled about in the snow. Y/N appeared beside him, slipping her hand into his.

"They're growing up so fast," she murmured.

"They are," Regulus agreed, squeezing her fingers. "But right now, they're exactly where they should be."

A snowball suddenly splattered against Regulus's chest. He looked down in shock to find Danny standing there, cheeks pink with cold and triumph.

"Baba!" she shrieked with glee.

Y/N burst into laughter as Regulus grabbed a handful of snow and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you started it now, little star."

The snowy battle that followed became a memory they'd cherish for years to come.

FOUR-YEAR-OLD DANY AND EIGHT-YEAR-OLD HARRY

The Black-Potter household was quiet, the warm glow of the hearth casting faint shadows along the walls. Outside, the moon hung low in the sky, bathing the snowy ground in silver light. Inside, however, two little figures shuffled across the carpeted hallway, their steps careful and hushed.

"Shh, Danny," whispered eight-year-old Harry, glancing back at his sister. "You're being loud."

"I'm not!" Danny pouted, her black curls bouncing as she clutched her stuffed dragon tightly. "Hazzy, my feet are just squeaky."

Harry stifled a laugh. "Okay, just...less squeaky feet, alright?"

Danny nodded solemnly and adjusted her grip on her dragon. Together, they tiptoed toward the kitchen.

The kitchen door creaked as Harry slowly pushed it open. He froze, holding his breath. Danny copied him, her wide eyes fixed on his face. After a long moment of silence, they exchanged triumphant grins and slipped inside.

"Alright," Harry whispered, "the cookies should be in the blue tin."

Danny squinted at the counter. "That's really high," she said, voice heavy with skepticism.

"That's why we have teamwork," Harry declared, dragging a chair across the floor with a low screech. They both winced, then stared at the doorway. No footsteps. No Baba with his scary frown. No Mama with her disappointed head shake.

Harry climbed onto the chair, balancing with practiced ease. "Okay," he murmured, stretching toward the cookie tin. His fingers brushed the lid. "Almost...got it..."

Danny watched, her dragon tucked under her arm, her curls falling in her face. "Hazzy, careful!"

"I'm fine," Harry assured her. With a final stretch, he snagged the tin and pulled it toward him.

The tin wobbled. Harry's heart stopped. The container tilted and tumbled off the edge.

"No!" Danny gasped.

Harry lunged and caught it mid-air. "Ha! Got it!"

Danny clapped her hands silently. "You're the bestest," she whispered.

Harry hopped down and opened the tin. The rich scent of chocolate-chip cookies drifted into the air. "Okay, Danny, take one."

Danny's eyes lit up as she reached in and grabbed the biggest cookie she could find. Harry took one for himself, then replaced the lid and carefully slid the tin under the table.

They turned toward the door just as the kitchen light snapped on.

"And what do we have here?"

The siblings froze mid-chew.

Regulus Black stood in the doorway, arms crossed, dark hair mussed from sleep. His grey eyes were sharp, but his lips twitched at the corners.

Danny let out a muffled squeak and ducked behind Harry. "Uh-oh," she whispered.

"Uh-oh is right," Regulus said, stepping forward. "Midnight cookie thieves, I see."

"We're not thieves," Harry said quickly. "We're...we're taste testers."

"Yeah," Danny piped up, peeking around Harry. "Mama said cookies gotta be tasted."

Regulus arched a brow. "Did she?"

Harry gulped. "Well, not these cookies. But...cookies in general."

"Mmm." Regulus knelt down so he was eye-level with them. "Do taste testers usually sneak around in the dark?"

"Only when it's a secret mission," Danny whispered.

Regulus pressed his lips together, trying not to smile. "Well, in that case," he said softly, "I guess you'll need a lookout next time."

Harry's mouth fell open. "Wait...you're not mad?"

"Oh, I'm mad," Regulus said, though his voice lacked any bite. "But I'll let it slide this time. Now, off to bed, you two."

"Yes, Baba," they chorused.

As he herded them back to their rooms, Regulus glanced up and met Y/N's amused gaze from the top of the stairs.

"Told you they'd go for the cookies," she whispered.

"You set us up!" Harry exclaimed.

Danny gasped. "Mama!"

Y/N laughed softly. "What can I say? I know my little cookie monsters." She leaned down to kiss the tops of their heads. "Now, go to sleep. We'll discuss your sneaky skills in the morning."

As Harry and Danny shuffled into their rooms, Regulus smiled to himself. Nights like these made every sleep-deprived morning worth it.

FIVE-YEAR-OLD DANNY AND NINE-YEAR-OLD HARRY

The Black-Potter household was rarely quiet, especially with an energetic four-year-old like Danny and a lively eight-year-old like Harry running about. Laughter, footsteps racing down hallways, and the occasional magical mishap filled the air with a warmth that made Grimmauld Place feel more like home than it ever had before. But today, the usual harmony was broken by the sharp crack of a slammed door.

"You're mean, Hazzy!" Danny's tiny voice, thick with tears, echoed down the hall.

Harry stood frozen just outside his bedroom door, his chest tight with guilt. Moments ago, they'd been playing with his toy broomstick. Danny had begged for a turn, but Harry had refused, insisting she was too little and would just break it. When she'd tried to grab it anyway, he'd snapped at her.

"You're just a baby," he'd said. "You don't know how to fly right."

The words had hit harder than any hex. Danny's face had crumpled, her big gray eyes filling with tears. Then she'd run to her room and slammed the door, leaving Harry with the broomstick in his hands and regret in his heart.

From downstairs, Y/N heard the door slam and exchanged a knowing look with Regulus, who was levitating a stack of books onto a high shelf.

"Sounds like trouble," she said.

"Sounds like our children," Regulus replied, lowering the last book into place. "Shall I play the terrifying father figure?"

Y/N arched an eyebrow. "Terrifying? You?"

"I was once a Death Eater."

"Mm-hmm," she said, amused. "Why don't you try the compassionate father figure instead?"

"I'll give it my best shot," Regulus said, following her up the stairs.

They found Harry slumped against the wall outside Danny's door, twirling the toy broom in his hands. His shoulders sagged under the weight of his remorse.

"Rough day, kiddo?" Y/N asked gently as she crouched beside him.

Harry's bottom lip jutted out slightly, though he tried to hide it. "I made Danny cry."

Regulus sat down on Harry's other side. "Yeah, we heard," he said softly. "Want to tell us what happened?"

"She wanted to fly my broom," Harry mumbled. "I said no because she's little. And then she tried to take it anyway, and I... I said she was a baby."

Y/N winced. "Ah," she said. "Calling your sister a baby? That'll sting."

"She is a baby," Harry muttered, but even he didn't sound convinced.

"She doesn't see it that way," Regulus said. "She looks up to you, Harry. She wants to do what you do. Be like you. So when you said she was a baby, she probably felt like...you thought she wasn't good enough."

Harry's eyes widened. "I didn't mean that."

"I know," Regulus reassured him. "But sometimes, what we say doesn't match what we feel."

Y/N brushed Harry's hair back fondly. "Being a big brother is hard sometimes. You have to find a way to teach her without making her feel small."

"So...what do I do now?" Harry asked.

"Start with an apology," Y/N said.

Harry took a deep breath, then knocked on Danny's door. "Danny? Can I come in?"

There was a long silence. Then a muffled "Go 'way."

"Please?" Harry tried again. "I'm really sorry. I was mean, and I didn't mean to be."

The door creaked open an inch. One gray eye peeked through the gap.

"You called me a baby," Danny said, voice wobbly.

"I know," Harry said, his heart aching at the sight of her tear-streaked face. "I'm sorry. You're not a baby. You're my sister, and you're really brave and smart. I was just scared you'd fall and get hurt."

Danny opened the door a bit more. "You scared for me?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "'Cause I love you."

Danny's lips trembled. Then, with a tiny sniff, she launched herself at Harry, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I love you too, Hazzy," she mumbled into his shirt.

From their spot down the hall, Y/N and Regulus exchanged smiles.

"Think they'll remember this the next time they fight?" Y/N asked softly.

"Not a chance," Regulus replied with a chuckle. "But we'll be here to remind them."

And as Harry pulled Danny into his room to give her a broomstick-flying lesson, the warmth of family settled back into the house once more.

SIX-YEAR-OLD DANNY AND TEN-YEAR-OLD HARRY

The smell of buttery toast and sizzling bacon filled the cozy kitchen of the Black-Potter household. ten-year-old Harry sat at the table, munching on a piece of toast, while six-year-old Danica, her wild dark curls sticking in every direction, gleefully smashed her scrambled eggs with her spoon.

"Danny, you're supposed to eat that," Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

Danica grinned, her green eyes twinkling with mischief. "I am! But first, I have to make it flat. Flat eggs taste better."

Harry sighed dramatically but couldn't help smiling. His little sister always had a very particular way of doing things. "Whatever you say, munchkin."

As Danica resumed her egg-flattening mission, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Harry glanced up just in time to see his father, Regulus, stroll into the kitchen. His hair was slightly damp from a shower, and he wore his usual elegant but relaxed expression. Without a word, Regulus walked straight to where Y/N stood at the stove, flipping pancakes.

"Good morning, my love," Regulus murmured, slipping his arms around her waist from behind. He dipped his head and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Morning," Y/N replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace.

Regulus, however, wasn't content with just one kiss. He trailed a series of gentle kisses along her jawline, then down to the curve of her neck. Y/N giggled softly as he nuzzled the sensitive spot near her ear.

"Regulus Black," she scolded half-heartedly, "the kids are right there."

"Let them learn what true love looks like," Regulus replied with a smirk before pressing a kiss to her temple.

Across the table, Harry froze mid-chew. Danica stopped smashing her eggs. The siblings locked eyes, and without a word, both scrunched their noses and made loud, exaggerated gagging noises.

"Blech! Gross!"

"Ewwwww! Baba's kissing Mama!" Danica squealed, dropping her spoon and covering her eyes with sticky fingers. "Hazzy, make it stop!"

Harry clutched his chest dramatically. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he groaned, slumping over the table.

Regulus lifted his head and arched a single eyebrow at his children. "You two are impossible," he drawled, though amusement danced in his gray eyes.

Y/N laughed, turning to face him. "Told you," she teased.

"Kissing's gross!" Danica declared from behind her tiny hands.

"Yeah, Baba," Harry agreed, sitting back up with an exaggerated shudder. "Keep the mushy stuff private, will you?"

"Private?" Regulus echoed, feigning offense. "This is my home, my kitchen, and my wife. I can kiss her whenever I want."

"Not in front of us!" Danica insisted, peeking through her fingers.

Y/N leaned her head against Regulus's chest and laughed. "Maybe we should tone it down," she said.

"Hmm," Regulus hummed as if considering it. Then, with a devilish grin, he planted a loud, exaggerated kiss on Y/N's cheek.

"EWWWW!" Harry and Danica chorused.

Danica dramatically slid off her chair and collapsed onto the floor. "I've been poisoned!" she moaned, splaying her limbs across the tiles.

Harry followed suit, flopping onto the ground beside her. "We're doomed! Doomed by parental affection!"

Y/N pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter while Regulus smirked down at his children. "Ah, well," he said. "If you're both doomed, that means more pancakes for me and your mother."

Danica's eyes popped open. "Wait! I'm not doomed! I'm hungry!"

Harry sat up immediately. "Me too!"

"Mysterious recovery," Regulus mused as he helped them both back into their chairs.

Y/N plated the pancakes and set them on the table. As everyone dug in, Regulus reached for Y/N's hand under the table and squeezed it.

Harry saw the gesture but let it slide this time. Mostly because there were pancakes. And pancakes always came first.

previous chapter <--> next chapter

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

-

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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Your lee fic just killed me oh my gosh

grr thank youuuu 🥹🪼