White Hyacinth
The morning of the wedding dawned with a golden hue, sunlight spilling through the tall windows of Greengrass Manor like liquid warmth. The entire estate buzzed with quiet excitement, house-elves scurrying about with bouquets of enchanted flowers that hummed with faint magic, and family members drifting through the halls in elegant robes.
Adella sat by her vanity, her heart pounding in her chest as her friends fluttered around her like a flock of colorful birds. Dresses rustled, laughter echoed, and the air smelled of roses and lavender.
“You look radiant,” one of her friends, Clara, breathed as she helped fasten the intricate lace of Adella’s gown. “Regulus Black won’t know what hit him.”
Adella tried to smile, but her hands trembled in her lap.
Her dress was a masterpiece — silk and lace, pearls stitched like constellations along the sleeves. Her hair had been braided with delicate silver threads, and her makeup was subtle, enhancing her features without erasing the softness of her face. Yet despite the beauty surrounding her, she felt like a ghost inhabiting someone else’s body.
“What if…” Adella whispered, voice catching. “What if this is a mistake?”
Her friends paused, exchanging glances, before Mary knelt beside her, taking Adella’s hand. “It’s normal to feel scared,” she said gently. “But you and Regulus… you two understand each other. He cares for you. And you care for him, don’t you?”
Adella nodded, biting her lip to keep her emotions from spilling over.
After finishing her preparations, her friends kissed her cheeks, wished her luck, and left her alone to touch herself up — not realizing the old Black family tradition that allowed the groom to see the bride before the ceremony.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Adella's composure crumbled.
She sank onto the edge of her bed, silent tears sliding down her face. Her chest felt tight, her hands pressed against her heart as if she could hold herself together. The weight of expectation, of duty, of the unknown future pressed down on her like an anvil.
Then the door creaked open.
Adella froze, hastily wiping her tears. She turned, expecting one of her friends, but instead, Regulus stood in the doorway.
He looked breathtaking — his dark hair neatly combed, his black and silver dress robes fitting him perfectly. But it was his expression that made her heart ache: worry, softness, and a quiet understanding.
“I know I’m not supposed to be here,” Regulus whispered, stepping inside and closing the door. “But I had a feeling you might need me.”
Adella's chin wobbled as she tried to speak, but no words came out. Without hesitation, Regulus crossed the room and knelt in front of her, gently taking her hands in his.
“I’m scared,” she finally confessed, voice barely audible. “I’m scared of what comes next. Of what this means. Of losing myself.”
Regulus swallowed, his grip on her hands tightening. “I’m scared too,” he admitted. “I don’t know what kind of husband I’ll be, or if I can be what you need me to be. But… I want to try. For you.”
Tears welled up in Adella’s eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from fear. She leaned into Regulus, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her as if he could shield her from everything beyond that room.
They stayed like that for a while, the only sound their quiet breaths and the faint rustle of leaves outside the window.
Then, a voice echoed through the halls: their parents announcing that the ceremony would begin.
Regulus stood and helped Adella to her feet, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “Whatever happens out there,” he whispered, “we face it together.”
Adella nodded, her heart beating wildly. And as he offered her his arm, she realized that, for the first time that day, she wasn’t afraid.
—
The Greengrass garden had been transformed into something out of a fairy tale. The air shimmered with enchantments, golden lights floating lazily above rows of guests seated in delicate chairs lined with vines. Flowers bloomed in vibrant colors, and the scent of honeysuckle and lilac lingered like a gentle spell.
Regulus stood at the end of the aisle, fingers twitching at his side as he waited. His heart thundered like an unrelenting drum, and despite the Black family’s reputation for stoicism, he couldn’t keep his emotions in check. When the soft notes of enchanted strings filled the air, and Adella appeared at the end of the aisle, he forgot to breathe.
She looked ethereal, the sunlight catching the pearls on her dress like stars. Their eyes met, and everything else faded away.
The ceremony passed in a blur of vows and magic. Their hands were bound with enchanted silk, golden light intertwining around their fingers as they promised loyalty and partnership. The officiant spoke ancient words, and when they were told to kiss, Regulus hesitated only for a heartbeat before pressing his lips gently to hers — a promise, a beginning.
After the ceremony, the newlyweds made their way through the garden, accepting congratulations from guests. Adella's smile grew more genuine with each passing moment, and Regulus found himself unable to leave her side, his hand resting at the small of her back.
“See?” he whispered as they greeted an elderly wizard who used to work with Orion Black. “We survived.”
Adella squeezed his hand. “Together,” she whispered back, and he thought he might burst with affection.
The evening stretched into a reception filled with dancing and laughter. Regulus even managed to coax Adella into a waltz, guiding her carefully across the dance floor. He caught his mother watching from the edge of the crowd, her expression unreadable, but for once, he didn’t care. For once, he let himself be happy.
When the stars finally bloomed in the sky and the guests began to depart, Regulus and Adella lingered beneath an ancient oak, the remnants of glowing lanterns swaying above them. He laced his fingers with hers, bringing her hand to his lips.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said, voice steady. “Whatever comes next… we’ll figure it out.”
Adella leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “As long as it’s with you,” she whispered, and Regulus felt something inside him soften, the weight he’d carried for years lifting just enough for him to breathe.
Together, they watched the stars, their fingers intertwined — two souls bound not by obligation, but by the quiet, growing promise of love.
As the evening drew to a gentle close, the golden glow of lantern light casting long shadows across the stone courtyard, Mr. Greengrass clapped Regulus on the shoulder with a gruff but heartfelt smile. His eyes, gleaming with unshed emotion, softened as he looked at Adella. “Time to take your bride home,” he said, his voice thick with the weight of the day’s significance. He guided them to a waiting carriage, its polished wood gleaming under the fading twilight, the horses snorting softly as if sensing the tenderness of the moment.
The countryside home was a dream made real — exactly as Adella had wished. Nestled among rolling hills that stretched endlessly to the horizon, it stood like a quiet sentinel, its stone walls embraced by ivy that twisted and curled like nature’s own ribbon. A wildflower garden sprawled in front of the house, a riot of color and fragrance, swaying gently in the evening breeze. It looked like something out of a fairytale, a haven untouched by the rest of the world.
Regulus carried Adella inside, her laughter a melody against his chest, and they wandered through the house hand in hand, their fingers entwined as if neither of them ever wanted to let go. They explored each room with the wonder of children discovering hidden treasure — finding cozy nooks lined with shelves of books, sunlit corners where dust motes danced like tiny stars, and a grand fireplace whose mantle held the promise of countless quiet evenings together.
They talked for hours, their voices weaving in and out of the crackling fire’s warmth, and laughed until their sides ached, the weight of expectation and ceremony slowly unraveling like a frayed ribbon. The day’s tension melted away, leaving only the quiet, profound certainty that they were exactly where they were meant to be — together.
“I still can’t believe it,” Adella murmured as she traced her fingers along the edge of Regulus’s sleeve. “That we’re married. That this is real.”
Regulus tilted her chin up gently, his eyes soft with devotion. “I’ve never been more certain of anything,” he said. “This is real. You and me. Forever.”
Adella blinked back sudden tears, a laugh bubbling out of her. “You’re such a romantic,” she teased, though her voice wobbled.
“Only for you,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “Always for you.”
By the time the moon rose high, casting its silvery glow over the world, they found themselves sitting on a small balcony overlooking the garden. Wrapped in blankets, they watched the stars in comfortable silence, the night air cool against their flushed cheeks. The only sounds were the distant chirping of crickets and the slow, steady rhythm of their own breathing, synchronized like the beat of a shared heart.
“We did it,” Adella whispered, her voice fragile as she leaned her head against Regulus’s shoulder. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, as if grounding herself in the reality of their new life.
Regulus pressed a lingering kiss to her hair, his chest aching with a love so vast he thought it might split him in two. “We did,” he echoed, his voice trembling, as he pulled her even closer.
They stayed like that, talking in quiet, reverent tones as the stars wheeled overhead.
“What if I get something wrong?” Adella asked, her voice small.
“You won’t,” Regulus promised. “And even if you do, we’ll figure it out together.”
Adella turned to look at him, her eyes shining. “Promise?”
He held her gaze like it was the most precious thing in the world. “Promise.”
And as the night deepened, and the world outside faded into darkness, they stayed like that — two souls finally at peace, wrapped up in each other and the endless, quiet promise of forever.