Sunday morning. The Great Hall.
The long tables were loaded with food.
Most of the young wizards hadn't fully woken up. Over at the Gryffindor table, someone had their forehead pressed against their folded arms while a friend held their toast for them. Hufflepuff was lively as always, Ravenclaw quiet, and Slytherin sat proper, though a few yawns slipped through.
A flock of owls swept in through the high windows.
Two letters landed in front of Regulus.
The owls had arrived one after the other, a grey and a brown, both family birds. Each shook out its wings and settled beside his plate to wait.
Regulus glanced at the envelopes.
The first was thick parchment, black wax seal pressed with the Black family crest. Walburga's handwriting. Heavy strokes.
The second was thinner. The wax was black too, but it bore an additional rune: the exclusive mark of the Head of House Black. Only the patriarch's letters carried that seal.
He set both letters beside his plate and cut off a piece of bacon first.
If it were only Orion writing, it might be some update on family business, follow-up on the Whomping Willow incident, or news about shifting political winds.
If it were only Walburga, she'd probably heard some rumor about his behavior at school and worked herself into a state.
But both arriving together meant the same event, each parent writing their own version.
They would never write a joint letter. Orion and Walburga disagreed on too many things to fit on one page.
Regulus swallowed his bacon and reached for Walburga's letter first.
The parchment unfolded. The handwriting was unmistakably hers: large, heavy, and littered with exclamation marks.
"Regulus!
Bella wrote to me. I read it three times!
I don't know what you've done at school to make her so furious, but her wording has me deeply unsettled!
She says you ignored her counsel, openly sheltered two half-blood students, and replied to her warnings with extreme arrogance!
Is this true?!
Bella is your cousin. She is the eldest daughter of the Black family. She represents more than just herself now!
That person stands behind her! You should understand better than anyone what that means!
You are the heir of the House of Black. Your talent has the entire Pure-blood circle talking about you!
That is an honor! But honor is not meant to be turned against your own!
I am proud of you. I have always been proud! But pride does not mean I will stand by and watch!
Bella says she will come to Grimmauld Place after the Christmas banquet to speak with you directly!
I agreed!
Before she arrives, you think carefully!
Think about what should be done and what shouldn't. What can be said and what can't!
The heir of the Black family may be forceful, but not against his own!
Listen to your mother!
Walburga Black"
Regulus finished reading, folded the letter, and set it beside his plate.
As expected.
Last time Bella had written him a warning, he'd sent back a ketchup stain. So this time she went over his head, straight to the parents.
She probably knew another letter to him would be pointless. That bit of ketchup must have infuriated her thoroughly.
But the move also told him something: she was still keeping this inside the family.
She'd gone to Walburga and Orion. She'd taken the route of family elders, seeking a formal venue for resolution.
Which suited Regulus perfectly.
Lighting Saiph required exerting influence outward, and Bella was at the core of the Death Eaters. A direct confrontation with her would naturally ripple beyond the family.
The Christmas Pure-blood banquet this year was hosted by the Lestranges. Most of the Pure-blood circle would be there.
Bella wanted to wait until after the banquet to come to Grimmauld Place? Better to bring the matter to the banquet itself.
Keep Lucius and Narcissa present. Add Orion and Walburga. Every key figure in the Black family, all in one room. Frame it as internal family business.
Bella wanted formal? He'd give her formal.
Regulus read through Walburga's letter one more time.
His mother loved him, but that love came with conditions.
What Walburga loved was the heir who brought glory to the House of Black, the prodigious young wizard the entire Pure-blood circle couldn't stop talking about, the son who let her lift her chin at tea parties.
If he stopped being those things, how much of that love would shrink? Hard to say exactly, but shrink it would.
Regulus tucked the letter into his robes and picked up the second envelope. Only a few lines inside.
"Regulus:
Bella has written. She will come to Grimmauld Place after the Christmas banquet.
Handle it yourself.
Orion"
His father's style.
Regulus folded the letter and slipped it into his inner pocket.
Beside him, Cuthbert's gaze flicked over for a moment.
Last time, the letter had carried no seal, and he'd caught a glimpse of its contents. These two were proper family correspondence. He looked at the envelopes, nothing more, and turned back to his baked eggs.
Regulus noticed. Said nothing.
Boundaries. Cuthbert was getting better at them.
...
Morning. Potions class.
The underground classroom was warmer than outside. The fireplace burned with green flames. Steam from the cauldrons thickened the air with a tangle of scents, some pleasant, some sharp enough to sting.
At the front, Professor Slughorn cradled a glass of something deep purple and laced with fine bubbles.
He took a sip, rolled his tongue around his mouth, nodded in satisfaction, then set the glass on the lectern and clapped his hands.
"Good morning, children!"
"Today we're brewing a Calming Draught. Formula's on the board. You have ninety minutes. Begin."
The students set to work.
Regulus took out his cauldron and lined the ingredients up across his desk.
Ninety minutes later, Slughorn began his rounds.
When he reached Regulus, he bent down and peered into the cauldron.
Pale blue, faintly translucent, a thin silver mist hovering on the surface. The scent was soft lavender, the kind that made you want to close your eyes.
"Excellent, Mr. Black. As always." Slughorn smiled.
He picked up a glass stirring rod from the desk edge, swirled it once, held it up, and sniffed.
Textbook-perfect.
Slughorn straightened and watched Regulus tidy his workspace. Inwardly, he sighed.
The boy's talent in potions was a strange thing.
Everything he produced was good, sometimes better than good, but he had no passion for the subject itself.
Slughorn had seen plenty of gifted students over the years. Gifted and passionate? He could count those on one hand.
Lily Evans was one. That girl's eyes lit up. When she brewed, her whole being seemed to glow. Her questions came fast and deep, digging relentlessly, as though she wanted to learn the temperament of every last ingredient.
Severus Snape was another. Sullen boy, rarely spoke, but put him in front of a cauldron and he transformed entirely. Nimble fingers, razor focus. He'd modify recipes on his own and then explain exactly why each change worked.
And Regulus?
Talent enough, more than enough really, but potions simply didn't interest him.
The boy's mind was elsewhere entirely.
Need to find a way to make this boy care about potions.
But how do you make a student who can do it but doesn't care suddenly start caring?
Slughorn stroked his mustache. No answer came to him.
He patted Regulus on the shoulder. "Mr. Black, if you're free over Christmas, you're welcome to attend my little party. This year's guest list includes some rather fascinating wizards."
"Thank you, Professor. I'll think about it." Regulus gave a polite nod.
Slughorn turned to leave with a warm smile, then paused after two steps and glanced back, eyes twinkling. "Oh, and do take your Calming Draught with you. I mean, perhaps you'd like a good night's sleep."
Regulus nodded again and set the stoppered vial aside.
Slughorn moved on to the next student's cauldron, bent down, took one look, and the smile vanished. In its place settled something gentle but regretful as he began explaining which step had gone wrong.
---
Midday. Lunch finished, back to the dormitory.
The door shut. Regulus sat on the edge of his bed and glanced at Cuthbert and Alex.
Hermes had been faster. Already lying down, eyes closed.
Regulus ignored him and asked directly, "The Lestrange situation. Where are we?"
Alex was pulling something from his pocket. He stopped at the question, turned around. "Nearly there."
"Snape already gave Lestrange the materials list. Lestrange is buying everything himself. Snape requested double quantities, said the first batch might go wrong. He bought it."
Alex's eyes flicked toward Regulus for a moment, then away.
"Snape will brew something that looks like Veritaserum, find a chance to grab Lina or Samuel alone, and pretend to force it down their throat..."