Mentions Of Nightmares - Blog Posts

Harry's post-Hogwarts

Harry's life after the battle of Hogwarts.

Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mentions of war, death, nightmares, PTSD

note: A Regulus and Harry moment hihi

The house felt quieter without Danny.

It wasn’t something they ever said out loud, but they all felt it.

Y/N noticed it in the way Regulus lingered by the breakfast table, drinking his tea a little slower, his sharp eyes drifting toward Danny’s usual seat. She noticed it in the way he took a few extra minutes in the morning to check the post as if expecting an owl from her—even though they’d just received one the day before.

Harry noticed it in the way the house felt less chaotic. No more exasperated sighs when he tried to rope Danny into one of his antics. No more cutting remarks that were both brilliant and scathing. No more of her curling up in the chair across from Baba, nose buried in a book far too advanced for her age.

Regulus would never admit it, of course. But Y/N caught the way he looked up expectantly every time the fireplace flared, just for a second, before masking it with that cool indifference he’d perfected years ago.

“She’s only been gone a week, Baba,” Harry said one evening, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorway. “You act like she moved across the world.”

Regulus, sitting in his usual chair, turned a page in his book without looking up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Harry smirked. “Right. And you totally didn’t check for an owl three times today.”

Regulus flicked a glance toward Y/N, who was smirking into her tea. “I was checking for Ministry correspondence.”

“Sure you were.”

Regulus exhaled through his nose, closing his book with a soft thud. “Is there a reason you’re standing there, or did you just come to irritate me?”

Harry shrugged. “Mostly the latter.”

Y/N chuckled, setting down her cup. “You two are hopeless.”

Regulus sighed, rubbing his temple. “If this is what I have to deal with when Danny is gone, I’ll just send a Howler telling her to come home.”

Harry snorted. “She’d ignore it. Or worse, she’d send one back telling you to stop being dramatic.”

Regulus didn’t argue, which meant he knew Harry was right.

It was strange—this new phase of life. Hogwarts had always been a part of their routine, but now, with only one child at home, the house felt just a little too still.

Y/N reached over, placing a hand on Regulus’s. “She’s fine. And she’ll write again soon.”

Regulus hummed, squeezing her hand lightly before pulling away. “I’m aware.”

Harry smirked. “You miss her.”

Regulus shot him a look. “Shut up, Hazzy.”

Harry’s grin widened. “You miss her so much.”

Regulus glared. Y/N just laughed, shaking her head.

The house was quieter. But they’d adjust. They always did.

-

It was strange—falling back into a routine that hadn’t existed in over a decade.

With Danny at Hogwarts, the house felt smaller in a way. Not physically, of course, but something about it brought them back to the days when it was just the three of them—Regulus, Y/N, and Harry.

So, they decided to lean into it.

One evening, Harry came home from work at Chuddley Cannons, stretching his arms over his head. "It's weird without her here," he admitted, dropping into his usual seat at the dining table.

Y/N chuckled, setting down the plates. "You mean it's quieter?"

"Exactly," Harry grinned. "No broody six-year-old correcting my spelling or outdueling me in chess."

Regulus raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his tea. "She hasn't been six in quite some time, Harry."

"Yeah, but she still acts like she is sometimes. Always reading, always judging me—"

"Wonder where she got that from," Y/N muttered, smirking at her husband.

Regulus scoffed. "I do not judge."

Harry and Y/N both gave him a look.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Fine. Perhaps occasionally."

That night, it was just the three of them for dinner—like it had been all those years ago. It didn’t take long for them to slip into old habits.

Regulus and Y/N sat beside each other, discussing their respective days—her work at Hogwarts, his at the Ministry. Harry, ever the troublemaker, stirred his soup absentmindedly before blurting, “Remember when I used to sit on the table instead of a chair?”

Y/N groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “You were a menace.”

Harry smirked. “Still am.”

They spent the rest of the evening reminiscing—about the time Harry had insisted on flying inside the house and knocked over an entire bookshelf; about the time Regulus had tried to teach him etiquette, only for him to use a soup spoon to launch peas across the dining room; about the nights when Y/N would return home from Hogwarts, exhausted but still determined to tuck Harry in.

After dinner, Regulus and Y/N sat by the fireplace, Harry sprawled across the floor like he was still a teenager instead of a grown man.

"You know," Y/N mused, watching the flames flicker, "this is nice."

Regulus glanced at her. "What is?"

"Just... us. Like this. It reminds me of when Harry was little."

Harry, lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, smirked. "So you do miss me being a little kid."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "I miss you being manageable."

Regulus chuckled. "He was never manageable."

Harry grinned. "True."

They sat there for a long time, basking in the warmth of nostalgia. The house may have felt quieter, but it didn’t feel empty. cv

Because no matter how much things changed, they were still them. And that was enough.

It was strange—falling back into a routine that hadn’t existed in over a decade.

With Danny at Hogwarts, the house felt quieter. Not empty, just… different.

Harry, now a professional Quidditch player, had been staying over for the week while he had a short break between matches. It almost felt like old times—just the three of them, like it had been before Danny was born.

Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter, watching as Regulus sat at the dining table reading the Daily Prophet, his usual cup of tea in hand. Across from him, Harry was stretching out his sore muscles, rolling his shoulder as he groaned.

"Merlin, I feel ancient."

"You’re twenty," Regulus said flatly, not looking up from his paper.

"Exactly. Ancient."

Y/N smirked, setting plates down on the table. "Try being in your forties and teaching a bunch of teenagers Ancient Runes every day. Then we’ll talk."

Harry grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "You love it."

"Most days." She sat beside Regulus, nudging his arm. "And you? Still terrorizing the poor souls at the Ministry?"

Regulus didn’t dignify that with a response, merely taking another sip of his tea.

Dinner felt like stepping into the past, their usual banter slipping back into place effortlessly.

"Remember when I used to run around the house with my toy broomstick, knocking things over?" Harry mused as he dug into his meal.

Regulus exhaled sharply, setting down his fork. "You were a menace. Nearly took my eye out when you were six."

Y/N laughed. "Oh, and that one time you crashed into the Christmas tree—"

"That was one time!" Harry defended himself.

Regulus smirked, crossing his arms. "And then you joined professional Quidditch. Clearly, you learned your lesson."

Harry grinned. "What can I say? I'm consistent."

After dinner, they moved to the living room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth. Harry sprawled across the couch like he owned the place, tossing a Quaffle into the air absentmindedly. Y/N curled up in her usual spot, while Regulus sat beside her, a book in his lap that he had no real intention of reading.

"You know," Y/N said after a moment, watching the fire, "this feels nice."

Regulus turned to her. "What does?"

"Just us. Like this. It reminds me of when Harry was little."

Harry smirked. "So you do miss me being small."

"I miss you being manageable," Y/N corrected with a roll of her eyes.

Regulus chuckled. "You were never manageable."

Harry tossed the Quaffle in the air again, catching it easily. "True."

The night stretched on, filled with warm conversation and laughter. It wasn’t often that Harry had time to stay home like this, and even though things had changed over the years, some things never would.

They were still them. And that was enough.

However, the nightmares started again.

Flashes of green light. Screams that were cut short. Rubble and fire. The feeling of losing people, of not being enough.

Harry woke up with a sharp gasp, his breath coming in ragged, uneven bursts. His chest ached like he’d run a marathon, and the darkness of his childhood bedroom felt suffocating. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, willing the images away.

He wasn’t at Hogwarts. He wasn’t in the war. He was home. Safe.

But his body didn’t believe it.

A knock at the door made him flinch. He didn’t answer, but the door creaked open anyway, the hallway light casting a long shadow as Regulus stepped inside.

"Another one?" Regulus's voice was quiet, steady.

Harry exhaled shakily and nodded. He didn’t need to explain. Regulus had always known.

Without a word, Regulus crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. It reminded Harry of when he was little—when he would have nightmares about his parents, about loud thunder, about monsters under the bed. Regulus would always be there, brushing his hair back, sitting with him in the dark until he calmed down.

Harry hated that he still needed this. After everything, he still felt like that scared little boy in the dark.

“I should be over this by now,” Harry muttered, his voice thick.

Regulus let out a quiet breath, the ghost of a sigh. “You don’t just ‘get over’ something like war, Harry.”

There was a moment of silence before Regulus reached out, hesitating for only a second before resting a hand on Harry’s head, running his fingers through the messy black strands. The touch was grounding, familiar.

"You used to do this when I was a kid," Harry said quietly.

"You used to calm down when I did," Regulus replied simply.

Harry let his eyes drift shut, focusing on the steady motion, the way it slowed his breathing. The memories of battle still lurked in the corners of his mind, but they felt a little further away now. Less sharp.

They sat in silence for a while.

Eventually, Regulus spoke again, his voice softer. "You are not weak for feeling this way, Harry."

Harry swallowed his throat tight. "I just... I feel like I shouldn't—like I should be moving on."

"You are moving on," Regulus said. "But healing isn’t the same as forgetting."

Harry took a shaky breath. He wanted to believe that.

Regulus stayed with him until his breathing evened out again until the tension in his shoulders finally eased.

Just like when he was a child, Regulus didn't leave until Harry was asleep.

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