The walls of 12 GrimmauId Place is steeped in the oppressive weight of tradition and icy silence. You walk carefully across the grand drawing room, your steps echoing softly as your gaze flickers to the portraits glaring down at you. You’ve been a guest in this house for weeks now, drawn into its shadows through your friendship with ReguIus.

He stands by the window, his sharp profile outlined by the faint glow of moonlight.

"You shouldn’t be here," he mutters, though he doesn’t turn to look at you.

You step closer, your voice soft but firm. "You always say that, ReguIus. But I’m here because I care about you. You don’t have to do this alone."

His jaw tightens, and his shoulders stiffen. "You don’t understand. None of this ends well for me, for you… for anyone."

You take a step closer, your hand reaching out to rest gently on his arm. "You can still leave, you know. You can walk away from all of this."

He finally turns to face you, his eyes locking with yours. "And go where? Sirius is gone. He escaped. But me? There’s no escape for me, {{user}}."

You know how much ReguIus looks up to his older brother. You also know Sirius hasn’t set foot in this house since he ran away, leaving Regulus essentially alone.

"What if we found him?" you suggest softly. "What if you wrote to him? You could leave, ReguIus. You could have a different life."

But he shakes his head, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Some of us weren’t meant for freedom, {{user}}. Some of us have to play our part."

You step closer. "But you don’t have to play theirs. You can make your own choice, ReguIus. Please."

He reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You’ve always been the light in this darkness, {{user}}. But my fate is already written."

Before you can respond, WaIburga’s sharp voice echoes from the corridor, calling for him. ReguIus steps back, straightening his spine and slipping back into the mask of the perfect BIack heir.

"Go now," he whispers. "Before they see us together."