𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆, regulus black

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕𝟖: 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬

He couldn't shake the image of her standing there, her eyes clouded with pain as she spoke of their connection as something temporary, something inconsequential.

Regulus clenched his fists, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. He had tried to make her understand, to tell her the truth about how he felt, but his words had clearly fallen on deaf ears. 

And now, as he sat alone on the train, he knew what he had to do. 

He'd had her as Regulus and as Super Mysterious Guy and if he had to reinvent himself and become someone entirely new to have her, he would do it without hesitation. Because in every sense of the word, she was his. 

Rune was not some fleeting fancy to pass his days with at Hogwarts. Every single fiber of his being craved her, yearned for her touch, her laughter, her presence. She wasn't just a girl he happened to like; she was his obsession, his sole desire, the only thing that truly mattered in his world.

No curse would get in his way, for if he had to dabble into the darkest depths of magic itself to claim her, he would. Afterall, he was already tethering on dark magic. 

The hushed murmurs of his friends filled the air as they whispered stories of the rising Dark Lord. Their voices carried a weight of uncertainty, mingled with an undercurrent of fear that sent a shiver down his spine.

He listened in silence, weary of the soon to be looming presence of their master, the one they pledged their allegiance to. It was a path they had chosen, but one that now seemed fraught with uncertainty and peril. The darkness they were being drawn into felt suffocating, its tendrils creeping into every corner of his mind.

The rest of the train journey passed rather quickly as Regulus sat occupied by his own mind. Upon finally arriving home, the cold, oppressive atmosphere that seemed to permeate every corner of the Black household cast a shadow over his already troubled mind. 

Dinner unfolded in a tense atmosphere, accentuated by the weight of his mother's scrutinizing gaze and the pointed inquiries from his father. Each question seemed to add another layer to the thickening tension, tightening the air around them with every passing moment.

"You lost the Quidditch cup," his father remarked, his tone laced with a hint of disappointment. "Shouldn't you have exercised more strategic patience, waited until Slytherin had a clear advantage before snatching the snitch?"

Regulus bit back a retort, the frustration simmering beneath the surface threatening to boil over. "The Gryffindor seeker was practically breathing down my neck," he replied, his voice tight with irritation. "If I hadn't grabbed the snitch when I did, he would have beaten me to it, and we would have lost by an even wider margin."

His father's response was a curt grunt, the scrape of his knife against the plate adding an abrasive edge to the conversation. "Whether by a mere two points or a staggering hundred, a loss is a loss," he muttered, the words carrying a weight that seemed to hang heavily in the air between them.

Regulus felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he clenched his fists under the table, struggling to maintain his composure. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken tension, each passing moment stretching like a taut wire between them. 

Regulus stole a glance at his mother, but her expression remained unreadable, her eyes fixed on her goblet as if the conversation held no interest for her.

"And what of your exams, Regulus?" his father asked, her tone deceptively calm. "I've spoken to your professors. Professor Slughorn has high expectations for you."

Regulus clenched his jaw, the memory of his less-than-stellar performance in Potions stirring a fresh wave of resentment within him. "It went as expected," he replied curtly, his words clipped and devoid of any enthusiasm.

"And what about Sirius?" asked Orion Black, his tone carefully neutral. "Any news of him, Regulus?"

The mention of Sirius brought a surge of bitterness to Regulus's throat, but he swallowed it down, unwilling to give his parents the satisfaction of seeing him lose control. "Sirius is no concern of mine," he muttered, his voice cold and dismissive.

"And what of that girl?" asked his mother, her voice laced with an undercurrent of curiosity. "The one you've been spending so much time with at Hogwarts. What's her name again?"

Regulus felt a flicker of irritation, but he quickly masked it with a practiced facade of indifference. "Her name is Rune," he replied tersely, his tone guarded. "And she's no concern of yours mother."

His mother's lips curled into a thin smile, but there was a glint of steel in her eyes that sent a chill down Regulus's spine. "Oh, but I beg to differ. If she's important to you, then she's important to me."

Regulus felt a surge of anger rising within him at his mother's thinly veiled threat, but he forced himself to remain composed. "She is not important to me." 

"I hope not," conceded her mother. "I heard Eric Rosier talking about her. It seems she will soon be crossing paths into our lives." 

Regulus frowned. "Evan's father? What does he want with Rune?" 

His mother's smile turned enigmatic, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough, won't we?" she replied cryptically.

Regulus's frown deepened, a sense of unease settling in the pit of his stomach. Eric Rosier was not a man to be trifled with, and if he had taken an interest in Rune, it could only mean trouble.

He opened his mouth to ask further questions but at the sight of both his parents staring at him waiting for him to fall into their trap, he dropped his attention back to his plate. A heavy silence descended upon the dinner table broken only by the soft clinking of silverware against china.