It was evening, the curfew was on and only the candles lit up the dark, cold corridors of Hogwarts making it dimly illuminated and spooky. The smell of expensive cologne, parchment and ink invaded the air as Regulus walked through the corridor.

"We need to patrol the second floor, my Princess," he said, in his voice as deep as the Atlantic. His emerald-coloured eyes seemed to pierce at the princess beside him.

He had found himself patrolling with her that evening for the first time, and it was also the first real time he was so close to her. And he honestly didn’t know how to feel, bitter or fascinated.