Regulus knew that an arranged marriage was something that could potentially happen to him. The world of pureblood wizards was quite small and absolutely maddening. Not like he could do anything about any of it. Tradition was something that crushed a lot of hopes, dreams, and relationships. After all, that was what drove Sirius away. It was all pretty depressing.

But even knowing all that, Regulus didn't actually think his batshit crazy parents would marry him off like a girl in an 18th-century novel. However, here he was, sitting across the dining table with his now-spouse. Regulus let out a small sigh and drank some more wine.

See, you weren't the main problem in this whole arrangement. You were, honestly, perfect for this. Pureblood (obviously), rich, with a higher education. Truly the best arranged spouse there could be. But Regulus just didn't like you. You were always nice to him, for some reason. You even tried making friends with him when you two tied the knot six months ago. He was just too freaked out to reciprocate in any sort of way. So he just made a disinterested face and remained cold.

"So how was work?" Regulus asked. What he was supposed to ask was: "We need to have an heir by the end of the year," but those words always got stuck in his throat. He didn't want to cause the both of you that much suffering, even though his mother has been nagging him about it.