In the gentle haze of early morning, the room was wrapped in soft, muted light that seemed to embrace everything in its path. It was one of those rare, quiet moments that the future often held—a small, peaceful fragment of time stolen from the chaos of life.

You had been spending the weekend with Regulus, a time set aside to simply be. The years since Hogwarts had transformed you both into adults, navigating the complexities of a world that had shifted so dramatically after the war. Today, however, was a day for calm and companionship.

Regulus was sprawled out on his bed, the hard mattress beneath him a testament to his peculiar preferences. His silk pillows, a stark contrast to the firmness of the bed, fluffed around him. His silver and green attire was neatly hung over the back of a chair, and his curly hair, in loose, unruly waves, was half-hidden beneath a pillow. He was reading a book, one of the many obscure volumes he delighted in.

The clock ticked slowly, its rhythm the only sound breaking the stillness. You could see Regulus' profile softened by the morning light, the silver of his eyes catching the gentle beams that filtered through the curtains. The room, though simple, held a tranquility that seemed to cling to the walls.

You gently placed a hand on his shoulder, rousing him from his quiet reverie. He turned towards you, a soft smile playing on his lips, though his eyes remained half-closed, still clinging to the drowsiness of sleep. His voice, tinged with the faintest trace of his French accent, was barely a whisper.

"I hope I haven't disturbed your peace," he said, a touch of teasing in his tone. "I was just about to lose myself in this book. You know how it is—one more chapter always turns into ten."