𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

Shattered Truths

### Title: **Shattered Truths**

Regula Arctura Black always considered herself to be a proper daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. She was the perfect heir—diligent, disciplined, and entirely devoted to her family’s legacy. Unlike Sirius, who had cast off the shackles of their heritage with reckless abandon, Regula thrived in the role. She obeyed her parents, upheld tradition, and never dared question her place in the grand tapestry of Black lineage.

Until now.

The heavy oak door to her father’s study groaned on its hinges as she pushed it open. Dust motes swirled in the air, catching the faint light filtering through the high, narrow windows. Orion Black’s study was a sacred space, a room filled with the weight of history, secrets, and expectations. Regula had never entered it without permission before, but desperation had driven her to this point.

Her fingers trailed along the spines of books on the towering shelves. She was searching for something, anything, that could give her insight into horcruxes. The whispers she’d overheard—about the Dark Lord’s immortality, about his methods—gnawed at her insides like a parasite. She needed to understand. Perhaps, she thought, her father’s extensive library held the answers she sought.

But instead of a book on dark magic, her hand paused on a simple black leather-bound diary tucked away on the lower shelf. It bore no title, but the familiar initials O.B. embossed in silver on the cover sent a jolt through her. Her father’s diary. She hesitated, the propriety drilled into her warring with her curiosity. But the gnawing need for knowledge won out.

She opened it.

---

The entries began innocuously enough: notes about business dealings, family affairs, musings on the state of the wizarding world. But as she flipped through the pages, her eyes caught on a name that made her stomach twist.

Tom Riddle.

Her pulse quickened as she read. The entries shifted from formal observations to something more intimate. Orion wrote about clandestine meetings with the charismatic and ambitious young wizard. He described Riddle’s piercing eyes, his magnetic presence, and the intoxicating allure of his vision for the future.

Regula felt her breath hitch as the words became more personal, more confessional. The affection, the admiration—the love. Her father had been infatuated with the man who would become Lord Voldemort.

But it was the revelation in an entry dated May 31, 1960, that shattered her world.

_"Tom and I… It was reckless, foolish, but I couldn’t resist him. And now I find myself facing the consequences of that night. I cannot tell Walburga. She would never forgive me. The child will be raised as hers, for the sake of our family’s honor. But she is mine. My daughter. And his."_

Regula’s hands trembled, the diary slipping from her grasp and landing with a dull thud on the floor. She stared at it, the words seared into her mind. _She is mine. My daughter. And his._

Her entire life was a lie.

---

The pieces fell into place with horrifying clarity. Walburga’s cold indifference, the way her mother had always seemed more interested in controlling her than loving her. The occasional whispered arguments between her parents behind closed doors. And now, this.

She wasn’t Walburga’s daughter at all. She was the product of an illicit affair between her father and the Dark Lord. The blood that ran through her veins was not purely Black, as she’d always been told, but tainted with the legacy of a man who had plunged the wizarding world into chaos.

And Sirius… her supposed brother. He was only her half-brother. No wonder they had always been so different. She had spent years resenting him, envying his freedom, but now she felt an odd pang of gratitude for his distance. If he had known the truth, how much worse would it have been?

But the most gut-wrenching realization was yet to come. If Tom Riddle was her father, that meant Mattheo…

Regula pressed a hand to her mouth, choking back a sob. Mattheo Riddle, her lover, her confidant, the man who had promised to stand by her through anything. He was her half-brother. The revelation hit her like a curse, shattering the fragile foundation of her happiness.

---

For hours, she sat in the study, the diary open before her but unread. Her mind spiraled through a storm of emotions: anger, betrayal, confusion, and a deep, aching sorrow. When the grandfather clock in the corner chimed midnight, she finally stirred.

She couldn’t keep this to herself. But who could she turn to? Sirius was gone, banished from the family. Her parents… she couldn’t bear to face them. And Mattheo…

Mattheo, who had kissed her so tenderly, who had whispered dreams of a future together. What would he say if he knew? Would he be disgusted, horrified? Would he hate her for something neither of them had known?

---

The next morning, Regula made her way to the Black family tapestry, the heavy velvet curtain brushing against her as she stepped into the alcove. Her eyes scanned the intricate web of names and connections, each thread representing generations of pure-blood legacy. Her gaze landed on her own name, embroidered in silver beneath Orion and Walburga.

It was a lie. A beautiful, damning lie.

Without thinking, she raised her wand. _"Reveal your truths,"_ she whispered, her voice trembling. The tapestry shimmered, the threads rearranging themselves to reflect the hidden reality.

Her name remained, but the line connecting her to Walburga unraveled, snapping apart like a frayed rope. In its place, a new line emerged, connecting her to a name written in stark, foreboding letters.

**Tom Marvolo Riddle.**

Regula staggered back, her wand slipping from her fingers. The truth was undeniable now, woven into the very fabric of her family’s history. She was the Dark Lord’s daughter.

---

When she returned to her room, Mattheo was waiting for her, lounging on her bed with his usual devil-may-care grin. But as soon as he saw her face, the smile faded.

"Regula? What’s wrong?"

She hesitated, the words caught in her throat. How could she tell him? How could she destroy the one good thing in her life?

But she couldn’t keep it from him. He deserved to know.

"Mattheo," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We need to talk."

---

The conversation that followed was one of tears, anger, and disbelief. Mattheo’s initial reaction was denial, then fury—not at her, but at the situation, at the people who had kept this from them. By the end of it, they were left sitting on the floor, leaning against each other for support, their world in ruins.

"What do we do now?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Regulus didn’t have an answer. For the first time in her life, she was completely, utterly lost.