Magnolia- Tom Riddle

Magnolia- Tom Riddle

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Aug 30, 2025
Magnolia always loved the winter , the howling wind or how the snow crunched under her feet when she was taking her long walks to calm her mind , when she had to write one of the many assignments mr.slug horn assigned god how she hated potions. Tho in this particular evening she hated everything about it the crunch under her feet haunting her reminding her of her fate. Regulus was dead and nothing could change that fact.
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godspeed.

( ❝ THOSE WHO ESCAPE DEATH ARE UNLUCKY ❞ ) REGULUS BLACK is that humming in the restless summer air. He is what is created in the untempered heat of a blazing fire. He is a moth, drawn to hollowness and resentment. And in that resentment, he built a home. Unloved by his mother, unloved by his brother, unloved, even, by himself. Perhaps this is what people want. They beg to be loved like they beg to be saved. In dying, in death.

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