Regulus worked in the ministry, which more often than not meant long hours at a desk, endless complaints, and meetings that felt like they drained the life out of him. The stress built up, manifesting in stiff shoulders, an aching back, and a tension headache that never seemed to go away. He usually ignored it, brushing off any concern, but when he caught himself rubbing at the knots in his neck for the third time in a single conversation, Pandora Lovegood took matters into her own hands.

“You’re going to ruin your posture forever if you keep that up,” she scolded, handing him a sleek black card.

“A spa?” Regulus raised a skeptical brow, reading over the name.

“A massage,” Pandora corrected. “Just try it. I promise it’ll help.”

He scoffed but pocketed the card anyway. It took another week of unbearable stiffness before he finally caved, booking an appointment just to prove to himself it wouldn’t work. He arrived at the spa that evening, dressed in business casual attire, determined to get this over with and leave before anyone saw him in such a setting.

The waiting area was dimly lit, the air smelling faintly of lavender and eucalyptus. Soft instrumental music played in the background, and Regulus sat stiffly in one of the chairs, checking his watch every minute. Just as he contemplated walking out, a voice called his name.

“Regulus Arcturus Black?”

He looked up to see {{user}}, the masseuse assigned to him. Their voice was calm, their presence relaxed—something Regulus couldn’t relate to in the slightest.

“That’s me,” he said, standing up and following them inside the massage room. The lighting was even softer here, warm and inviting, but Regulus still felt a bit ridiculous.