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Wow, he’s really good. Fantastic reflexes.💥💥💥

IG credit to redbullf1academy

Uhh I’m dying for like angsty fluff w lee so I was thinking about him w the B1 prompt

Not when I just realized

Lee just realized how much you really meant to him.

Lee (bones and all) x eater!reader

requested by anon.

word count: 687

warnings: attempts of running away

note: i hope this was angsty-fluff just the way you wanted 🪼

find more here: masterlist, Lee (bones and all) master list

The night air was heavy with the smell of wet earth and something else, something darker, metallic, that neither of you would admit to but both recognized. Lee's truck idled a few feet away, parked quietly, headlights slicing through the trees. The two of you stood just off the dirt road, your breathing shallow, your hands shaking at your sides.

You had attempted to escape. You truly had. But Lee was faster. He always was.

You waited for him to sleep, his breathing slow and steady next to you, before you slipped out of the truck. You crept cautiously, not wanting the dry leaves and twigs lying about to give away your footsteps. Your scuffed drawstring bag, stuffed with what little you had to bring—an additional shirt, a canteen of water, a handful of crumpled dollar bills—was thrown over your shoulder as you set foot into the great unknown.

You didn't know where you were headed. Just away. Away from the starvation, from the things you'd done, from the boy who had somehow occupied your whole world.

You'd gone a mile before you noticed his footsteps behind you. Quick, firm.

"Stop," Lee had bellowed, his tone brusque, slicing across the stillness of the woods.

Your heart had raced, but you hadn't turned. Not yet. Not until he slipped his hand around your wrist, tight but not unkind, and stopped you in your tracks. You could have struggled, could have screamed. But you knew he'd never release you without a battle. 

And so here you stood, motionless, suspended between what you had and what still lay between you.

"Where you gonna go?" His voice was gentler than you anticipated, but there was something naked in it, something desperate.

You didn't look at the darkness ahead. "I don't know."

"Bullshit."

You turned, your eyes colliding with his. Even in the dim light, you could sense the fear behind them. Not anger. Not frustration. Fear. And it destroyed you.

"You always knew this wasn't forever," you whispered.

Lee shook his head, moving closer. His fingers curled as if he wanted to touch you but wasn't certain you'd allow it. "I never knew that," he whispered, his voice rough. "I never considered it like that. You leaving—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "You can't leave me now. Not when I just figured out how much you mean to me."

Your chest hurt, as if something in you had been sucked out. You wished to yell at him, inform him that he did not get to do this, to pull you back when it was simple and hold on tight when you attempted to leave.

Instead, you swallowed hard. "You'll be alright."

"That isn't true," he stated, his voice cracking. "You know that isn't true. You're the only one who knows."

Your throat constricted. Naturally, you did know. Who but another Eater would comprehend the hunger, the isolation, the way the world would ever reject you? You and Lee had lived together for so long now, traveling from spot to spot, protecting each other, feeding each other. And you were the one attempting to leave now, as if that was even an option.

"Stay," he begged. "I'll get it right next time. I won't exclude you, I promise.”

You hunted his features for the deceit, but none was there. Only Lee, naked and open in a fashion, ever exposed himself to anyone. You did not want to go; reality seeped into your joints like a wound. You'd only been frightened. Frightened of needing him so intensely.

Your fingers quivered, reflecting his, before you finally bridged the space between you, nudging your forehead against his. Lee breathed shakily, his hands staying at your waist, awaiting the invitation. You granted it by inclining towards him, allowing his heat to anchor you.

“I hate you for keeping me here," you whispered.

Lee released a wheezy, half-laugh, angling his head just so that your lips skimmed. "I'd hate me too."

And despite everything, despite the hunger, the danger, the blood that would always stain both of your hands, you weren’t going anywhere.

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET as Bob Dylan A Complete Unknown · 2024

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Eerie similarities

The eerie similarities between Danny and Baba, and, Harry and Mama

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader]

word count: 779

warnings: fluff and a bit of humor

The Black-Potter living room was a study in contrasts. On one side, sprawled across the thick, emerald-green rug, Harry and Y/N lay on their backs, laughing breathlessly after what had been, according to them, an epic tickle war. On the other side of the room, Regulus sat on the couch, legs crossed, one arm draped casually over the backrest. Beside him, their six-year-old daughter, Danica "Danny" Potter-Black, mirrored his posture with unsettling accuracy.

Both father and daughter held books in their hands. Regulus was reading a dense, leather-bound tome about magical theory, his brows furrowed in concentration. Danny, meanwhile, had a picture book titled The Curious Cauldron Chronicles, but it wasn't the pictures she cared about. Her small finger traced the words on the page as she read quietly to herself, lips moving with every sentence.

"She's just like you," Y/N said from the floor, propping herself up on her elbows as she watched the pair. "Quiet, broody, and disturbingly good at everything."

Regulus glanced over the top of his book, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Disturbingly? I'm gifted, not disturbing."

"Baba," Danny said without looking up, "Mama's jealous that we're smarter."

Regulus chuckled. "That must be it."

Y/N gasped dramatically and flopped back onto the rug. "You hear that, Harry? Our broody geniuses think they're better than us."

Harry, sprawled beside her with his messy black hair sticking up in every direction, grinned mischievously. "Yeah, well, they probably can't do this." He scrambled to his feet and launched himself into a spontaneous, lopsided cartwheel.

Danny finally looked up from her book, unimpressed. "That's not hard," she said, setting her book aside and sliding off the couch. She attempted a cartwheel, landing with a heavy thud on her side. She scowled as her curls flopped into her eyes. "Okay," she muttered. "Maybe it is hard."

Y/N laughed and sat up. "It's okay, Danny-bug. We'll teach you."

"I don't need help," Danny mumbled, climbing to her feet and brushing herself off. "I just need practice."

"She's definitely yours," Y/N said, looking pointedly at Regulus.

"And Harry's yours," Regulus countered, tilting his head toward their son, who was now attempting to do jumping jacks while singing a made-up song about dragons.

"I'm like Mama!" Harry declared proudly, flopping down beside her again. "We're the fun ones."

Y/N ruffled his hair. "That's right, Hazzy. We cause the chaos while they sit around reading big boring books."

Danny crossed her arms, standing next to her father with an identical expression of disdain. "Books aren't boring," she huffed.

"Exactly," Regulus said, holding out a hand for a high five. Danny slapped his palm with the practiced precision of someone who'd done it many times before.

"See," Y/N whispered to Harry. "Broody, smart, and way too serious."

Harry giggled, but his eyes softened as he watched his sister sit back down beside their father. "I like it when Danny reads to me sometimes," he said quietly.

"Of course you do," Y/N said, kissing his temple. "She's your little sister. You're supposed to think she's cool sometimes. Just don't tell her that too often."

Harry nodded sagely. "Got it."

Across the room, Danny leaned into Regulus's side, her head resting against his arm as she picked up her book again. He angled the book slightly toward her, pointing out a tricky word when she hesitated.

Y/N smiled softly. "She's going to be just like you, you know."

Regulus glanced up. "Brilliant and devastatingly handsome?"

"I was going to say a stubborn know-it-all, but sure, let's go with that."

Danny, still absorbed in her book, gave a tiny smile at her parents' teasing. Harry, meanwhile, tugged on Y/N's hand. "Come on, Mama! Let's build a pillow fort!"

Y/N jumped to her feet with a conspiratorial grin. "Excellent idea, partner-in-crime."

As the energetic duo began dragging pillows and blankets from every corner of the room, Danny peeked over her book. "That blanket's mine," she said.

"Then come help us," Y/N said with a wink.

Danny hesitated. But when Regulus nudged her lightly, she stood and crossed the room, grabbing a pillow and placing it with calculated precision.

"We're going to have our hands full with these two," Y/N murmured as Regulus joined her on the couch.

Regulus draped an arm around her shoulders, watching Harry enthusiastically demonstrate the "proper" way to build a pillow fort while Danny corrected his measurements. "Yes," he agreed, pressing a kiss to Y/N's temple. "And I wouldn't change a thing."

Outside, the winter wind howled against the windows. Inside, the Black-Potter family remained warm, chaotic, and perfectly complete.

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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)

Movie night

At home movie date with step-father Timmy.

stepdad!Timothée x mom!reader

word count: 1K

warnings: BRIEF mentions of abuse, fluff

note: unedited lol

find more here: masterlist

The day had been long and grueling. Hours of filming had passed, and when you were finally done, your body screamed in exhaustion. Yet even in exhaustion, there was one thing that always made the end of the day worth it: picking up Alice from daycare.

As you pulled up to the small brick building, you could already spot your five-year-old through the glass doors, bouncing up and down on her feet when she saw you. The minute you came in, she ran to your arms, her little hands around your neck as you picked her up.

"Mommy!" she shrieked, her face breaking out in excitement. "Miss Jenna, let me finger paint today! I made you a picture!"

You kissed her forehead, enjoying the heat of her small body against yours. "I can't wait to see it, sweetheart. Did you have a good day today?"

Alice bobbed her head excitedly. "Uh-huh! And guess what? I didn't even take a nap!"

You laughed. "That's amazing, but I bet you're going to be tired later."

"Not a bit!" she protested, yawning right afterward.

You laughed, settling her on your hip as you scooped up her little backpack. "Okay, let's go home."

The ride home was dominated by Alice's constant talk about her day, and as you pulled into your driveway, you were relieved to see the familiar comforting view of home. You carried Alice indoors, unaware that a surprise awaited you.

As soon as you opened the door and walked inside, your breath was taken in your throat. Your downtown home's living room had been fully converted into a movie theater. String lights hung from the ceiling, and they provided a warm, golden light to the room. The blinds were closed, and an ice cream station had been established, complete with various toppings. A new batch of French fries was on the counter, and a popcorn machine was in the corner, the buttery aroma wafting through the air. In front of the couch, a blanket fort had been deliberately set up, packed with pillows and soft blankets.

"Surprise!" Timothée shouted out, his voice full of excitement.

You stood there in shock as Alice struggled free from your arms and ran towards him. "Timmy! You did this?" she cried out, her eyes wide with astonishment. Timothée got down to her height, placing his hands on his knees with a grin on his face. "Of course, I did! You and Mommy had a long day, so I thought, what better way to unwind than a special movie night?"

Alice let out a gasp, her small hands clasped together. "Best surprise EVER!" she shrieked before dashing over to the popcorn machine, her enthusiasm overflowing.

You looked over at Timothée, still in wonder. "You did all this for us?” He shrugged playfully. "Of course. You two deserve it." His tone was warm, full of sincerity. "I thought we could watch whatever Alice chooses, eat way too much ice cream, and just have a nice night together."

Your heart filled with affection as you moved closer, encircling his neck with your arms. "You're great, you know that?" Timothée smiled, hugging your waist. "I do my best."

Alice pulled at his sleeve before he could speak further. "Timmy, can we go now? I wanna choose the movie!"

"Sure," Timothée replied, hoisting her onto his shoulders as she laughed. "What do we watch?" Alice drummed her chin theatrically, then smiled. "Encanto!"

Timothée breathed in. "Awesome choice! But before that, do you want to get some ice cream?”

“YES!" Alice shouted. She jumped down and dashed towards the ice cream corner with Timothée close behind. You saw them with a heart full of love, aware that although Timothée was not Alice's biological father, he loved her as if she were his own. And from the way she gazed at him, with admiration and trust, it was apparent that Alice loved him just the same.

As the three of you finally nestled up under the blanket fort, ice cream in your hands and the movie beginning, you couldn't help but think—this was happiness. Simple as that. Your little family, where you were meant to be. 

Your mind wandered back to the past, to the life you had before Timothée entered it. Alice's real father had been another man, a man who should have kept you safe but who had become the reason you had to flee. The relationship had begun well, but with time, his temper had grown worse. The way he treated you, the way he behaved around Alice, had frightened you. When he had raised his hand, even once, you knew that you had to go. Not only for yourself, but for Alice. You battled for sole custody, refusing to leave her vulnerable and never looking back. It hadn't been simple, rebuilding your life as a single parent, but then Timothée had blundered in like a gust of fresh air. He had demonstrated to you that love was gentle, that love was safe. That a man could love a child who wasn't biologically his own as deeply as if she were.

As the first scene of Encanto was played, you turned your eyes on Alice, who was nestled between you and Timothée, her little hands clutching a bowl of popcorn. And after a while, you leaned over to her with a smile. "What do you say to Timothée, sweetheart?" 

Alice looked up with her big, expressive eyes at him and smiled. "Thank you, Daddy!" she chirped merrily before grabbing another bite of popcorn.

Timothée froze, his breath hitching as his eyes slightly glistened. He blinked a few times, a hand instinctively coming up to rub his face as a soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Anytime, sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling her close and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

You stretched out, fingers intertwined with his, a reassuring grip of his hand. He gripped it back, his eyes shining with love and appreciation. And as Alice sat through the movie, blissfully unaware of the depth of emotional response her words had elicited, you knew at that moment that Timothée would never be more than a step away, as her father, as your husband, as the center of your small family.

Learning how to read

Regulus and Y/N try to teach Harry how to read

words: 0.5k

warnings: fluff, not proofread, alive Regulus and Sirius not being in Azkaban

“Alright, Harry, let’s try this again,” Y/N said patiently, tapping the open book in front of them. “What does this word say?”

Harry, sprawled across the plush rug in the Black family library, kicked his legs idly and squinted at the sentence. He traced the letters with his finger, lips moving as he tried to sound it out.

“C… ca… castle?” he guessed hopefully.

Y/N smiled. “Close! It’s a cauldron. You almost had it.”

Harry groaned dramatically and flopped onto his back. “This is so boring.”

Regulus, sitting in a chair nearby with his own book, arched an eyebrow. “Reading is not boring, Harry.”

Harry turned his head to stare at his Baba with a look of deep betrayal. “But it is! There aren’t even any dragons in this book!”

Y/N chuckled. “We have to practice the small words first, love. Then we can move on to dragons.”

Harry pouted. “But I want adventure stories now!”

Regulus sighed, rubbing his temple. “You won’t understand adventure stories if you can’t read properly.”

Harry huffed but reluctantly sat up again. “Fine,” he mumbled, picking up the book. “But only if I get a story about a dragon next.”

Before Y/N could agree, the library doors burst open.

“Never fear, Padfoot is here!” Sirius declared dramatically, striding into the room with a mischievous grin.

Regulus groaned. “Oh, no.”

Harry immediately perked up. “Uncle Siri!” He scrambled to his feet, rushing toward him.

Sirius scooped him up and twirled him in the air. “My favorite little troublemaker! What are you up to?”

“Reading lessons,” Y/N answered, crossing her arms.

Sirius wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. Sounds dull.”

Harry nodded eagerly. “It is!”

Regulus shut his book with a sigh. “We were making progress before you arrived.”

Sirius ignored him, digging into his coat and pulling out something that made Regulus’s eye twitch.

A brightly colored, illustrated comic book.

“Forget the boring old schoolbooks, Harry,” Sirius declared, wiggling the comic in front of him. “If you’re going to read, you should read something fun.”

Harry gasped. “What is it?”

Sirius grinned. “The Adventures of Martin the Mad Muggle!” He flipped open the pages, showing off the dramatic illustrations of a confused Muggle accidentally causing magical mayhem wherever he went.

Harry’s eyes widened in delight. “That looks amazing!”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely yes,” Sirius shot back, smirking.

Y/N sighed, hiding her amusement. “Sirius, you’re not exactly helping.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius said, plopping onto the rug beside Harry. “Think of it as… incentive! He wants adventure stories? Let him practice with this!”

Regulus glared. “That is not proper literature.”

Harry, meanwhile, was already flipping through the comic excitedly. “Look, Baba! There’s a dragon in this one!”

Regulus groaned as Y/N stifled a laugh.

Sirius winked. “See? Learning can be fun.”

Regulus muttered something under his breath that sounded suspicious like ‘you are the bane of my existence’, but ultimately, he sighed in defeat.

Y/N ruffled Harry’s hair and smirked at Sirius. “Fine. But if he starts writing his letters backward because of those ridiculous fonts, I’m blaming you.”

Sirius grinned, slinging an arm around his godson. “Deal.”

Harry, completely oblivious to the war being waged over his reading material, beamed. “This is the best lesson ever!”

Regulus groaned again.

as a catholic, i find this so funny

*In a church*

Sirius: Why are you looking at me like that?

Regulus: I just don't wanna miss it when you burst into flames.

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐓

🌟 = 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 :

Movie night 🌟🎬 - At home movie date with step-father Timmy.

SERIES:

(not yet available)

BLURBS :

(not yet available)

Harry's post-Hogwarts

Harry's life after the battle of Hogwarts.

Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mentions of war, death, nightmares, PTSD

note: A Regulus and Harry moment hihi

The house felt quieter without Danny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure you were.”

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

Harry shrugged. “Mostly the latter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry smirked. “You miss her.”

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

So, they decided to lean into it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Regulus scoffed. "I do not judge."

Harry and Y/N both gave him a look.

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

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

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

Y/N groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

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

Harry smirked. “Still am.”

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

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

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

Regulus glanced at her. "What is?"

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

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

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

Regulus chuckled. "He was never manageable."

Harry grinned. "True."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Merlin, I feel ancient."

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

"Exactly. Ancient."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That was one time!" Harry defended himself.

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

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

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

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

Regulus turned to her. "What does?"

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

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

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

Regulus chuckled. "You were never manageable."

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

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

They were still them. And that was enough.

However, the nightmares started again.

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

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

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

But his body didn’t believe it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They sat in silence for a while.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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