𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

Regulus Riddle

The flickering candlelight cast long shadows around the dimly lit room, the air thick with tension as the Death Eaters gathered for their meeting. Their masks glimmered ominously, and whispers filled the space like smoke. Voldemort's presence loomed large, an aura of authority that stifled any dissent.

As the gathering settled into silence, a new recruit, his eagerness betraying his inexperience, piped up. "Who is Regulus Black?" he asked, his voice cutting through the stillness like a knife. The room fell abruptly quiet, eyes darting between the masked figures, each of them well aware of the weight that name carried.

For a moment, the silence was deafening. Voldemort's expression shifted, as if he might rise to answer, but before he could, an unexpected voice filled the air.

"Well, I met her on my first day at Hogwarts," Mattheo Riddle said, rising from his seat. He had always been a striking figure, with maroon hair that glimmered in the candlelight and eyes that seemed to burn with intensity. The room turned toward him, surprised by his boldness.

"She was the beautiful granddaughter of Lord Black," he continued, his gaze distant, lost in memory. "Never had I seen such beauty before… the moment I laid eyes on her. Regulus was my red spider lily, delicate yet fiercely vibrant amidst the darkness of our world. We got married using blood-stained clothes, symbols of our defiance against the expectations that sought to bind us. We dreamed of having eight children—five sons and three daughters—carrying on our legacy, a family forged in love and rebellion."

He paused, the emotion in his voice thickening the air, and the Death Eaters remained captivated by his story.

“She and I went on the run, casting aside the chains of our families and their beliefs. I was going to marry the woman I loved, down by Slytherin's castle, where the shadows hid our secrets and the moonlight danced upon the lake. She was Regulus Black, the Slytherin princess, and I was Mattheo Riddle, the Slytherin prince. In that moment, she took my name, and we became one, united in defiance and love, down by Slytherin's castle."

A hush fell over the room as Mattheo's voice faded, leaving a lingering aura of longing and nostalgia. The Death Eaters exchanged glances, the newcomer now acutely aware of the weight of history and the legacy intertwined with Regulus Black’s name.

Voldemort remained still, his expression unreadable, yet there was a flicker of interest in his cold eyes as he regarded his son. The air crackled with tension, a reminder that love and loyalty could exist even in the most treacherous of circumstances.

And in that moment, Regulus Black’s spirit lived on, a testament to the power of love against the backdrop of darkness.

---

As Mattheo Riddle’s words hung in the air, the tension in the room thickened. The Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting between their Dark Lord and his son, who spoke with an intensity that captivated all present.

Voldemort’s expression darkened, a mixture of surprise and fury coursing through him. “Enough of this sentimental nonsense, Mattheo,” he hissed, his voice cold as steel. “You dare romanticize a traitor?”

Mattheo stood firm, his gaze unwavering. “She was no traitor, Father. Regulus had a heart, a soul that shone brighter than any of your dark ambitions. We defied the world together, not out of weakness, but out of love.”

The Death Eaters whispered among themselves, some nodding in reluctant agreement. They remembered Regulus Black—the girl who had once danced at the Yule Ball, the one whose laughter could silence the most formidable of opponents.

“I chose her,” Mattheo continued, his voice rising with passion. “We chose each other. In the shadows of Slytherin Castle, we forged our own destiny. We wanted a family, a legacy built not on fear but on love. Can you even comprehend that, Father? A legacy that doesn't end in bloodshed and betrayal?”

Voldemort’s anger simmered beneath the surface, but the defiance in Mattheo’s eyes gave him pause. The Dark Lord’s reputation was built on power and control, yet here was his son, unafraid to challenge him, to speak of a life beyond darkness.

“Do not think that love will shield you from the consequences of your choices,” Voldemort warned, his voice low and threatening.

Mattheo took a step forward, undeterred. “I am not afraid of you, Father. Regulus’s spirit lives on in me, and I will honor her by creating the future we dreamed of. I will not let your darkness extinguish the light we sought.”

Silence enveloped the room, the weight of Mattheo’s words settling like a heavy fog. For the first time, the Death Eaters saw a different side of Voldemort—not just the feared Dark Lord but a father confronted by the passionate resolve of his son.