Regulus looked at the undisguised fanaticism in Bella's eyes, his heart feeling no ripples.
For someone like Bella, family affection was meaningless; only shared goals and interests could maintain a relationship.
And this goal and interest was loyalty to Lord Voldemort.
He followed Bella's words: "Cousin is right, I will work hard to improve myself and live up to the expectations of the family and That Lord."
Positive feedback, not too much, not too little, just enough to satisfy Bella's expectations.
Bella indeed laughed even more happily: "I knew you were the most sensible! You're much better than that idiot Sirius!"
"When you grow up a bit more, we'll serve That Lord together and let everyone know the power of Black and Lestrange!"
After exchanging a few pleasantries with Bella and Rodolphus, Regulus took the opportunity to slip away.
He could feel many eyes around him falling on him; his performance at Hogwarts, combined with the Black family background, made him a potential recruit worth courting at this banquet.
Now, he also had to add the attention of Lord Voldemort.
Some looked with genuine admiration, some with calculating gazes, and some with hidden hostility, but all of this was within his expectations.
"Regulus." Lucius's voice came from behind him.
Regulus turned: "Lucius."
"A private chat?" Lucius gestured sideways and walked toward the terrace on the west side of the main hall.
Regulus nodded and followed. Narcissa also came over at some point, standing beside Lucius as if witnessing this conversation.
The wind on the terrace carried a chill, fluttering the edges of Narcissa's white robes; the distant garden was quiet under the moonlight.
Lucius leaned against the terrace railing, his fingertips carelessly swirling his wine glass.
He first glanced toward the main hall before speaking slowly, his tone carrying the characteristic Malfoy family drawl: "The champagne tonight is good, a vintage imported from France, which my father specifically had someone search for."
Regulus stood opposite him, not responding, waiting for him to continue.
Lucius didn't mind his silence and continued: "However, no matter how good something is, it depends on who drinks it. Some people don't deserve it, and forcing their way in only wastes good things."
His gaze swept across Regulus's face: "Don't you agree?"
"Making the best use of things is the right way," Regulus responded calmly, not taking the bait but not offending him either.
"Exactly what I mean," Lucius chuckled, his tone still slow and deliberate.
"Things are unsettled lately. There are always some people eager for quick success, wishing they could show off all their family assets for fear that others won't know which side they stand on."
The implication in these words was obvious, hinting at families like the Lestranges who were fully committed, while also testing the Black family's bottom line.
"You should be clear about the current situation. That Lord's power is growing stronger, and many in the Ministry of Magic have already stated their positions. We, the pure-blood families, must make a choice."
"The Malfoy family's choice is already very clear," Regulus responded.
Regulus looked up and continued: "The path is chosen by oneself. Some like to take shortcuts, while some prefer to be a bit more stable."
"Yes, but choices vary in depth," Lucius looked at him.
Regulus's heart stirred. Was this the Malfoy family's stance?
It sounded consistent with Orion's thoughts, but the specifics were yet to be determined; words alone weren't enough.
However, things could only be said to this extent; after all, they still had to make a living around Lord Voldemort.
Regulus looked back at the main hall, where Orion and Abraxas were talking, surrounded by several family heads.
"The Black family's stance is being shown by my father: supporting That Lord and maintaining pure-blood glory."
"Anyone can state a superficial stance," Lucius shook his head.
Regulus looked at Lucius, then turned his gaze to Narcissa, who was also looking at him.
He knew that Lucius talking about these things to an eleven-year-old first-year like himself must have been pushed by Narcissa, but this was exactly what he wanted.
Regulus suddenly broke into a smile and reached out his hand toward Lucius.
Lucius was taken aback, then smiled as well, this time more sincerely. He stepped forward, firmly shook Regulus's hand, and gave it a couple of pumps.
"You are more mature than I imagined." Lucius looked at him, a hint of admiration in his eyes: "To have such insight at the age of eleven is rare."
"You flatter me," Regulus replied with a smile.
While Regulus responded verbally, his mind wandered slightly.
Looking at the high-spirited Lucius before him, he couldn't help but think of the scene twenty-odd years later.
Malfoy Castle would become Lord Voldemort's base, the stone walls splattered with blood, the hall filled with the corpses of Death Eaters, and full of wanton slaughter.
Lucius would be stripped of his wand, kneeling humbly before Lord Voldemort, struggling to survive for the sake of his family's lives.
Everything he possessed now would no longer belong to him.
The world is unpredictable; the peak of power and the bottomless abyss are often only one step apart.
The Malfoy family was someone to win over, but not now.
Abraxas was still around, the Malfoy family's right to speak was still in his hands, and Abraxas's death would be a landmark event.
It would mean not only the transfer of power in the Malfoy family but also likely a signal of Lord Voldemort purging dissidents and consolidating control.
Only when Lucius truly took charge of the Malfoy family and felt the oppression of Lord Voldemort would it be possible to truly achieve deep cooperation with the Black family.
"What are you thinking about?" Lucius noticed his distraction.
Regulus snapped back to reality and looked at Narcissa again: "Thinking about sending a wedding gift to my cousin."
Hearing this, Narcissa's smile was like a white rose brushed by a warm breeze, instantly rippling with a bit of genuine warmth.
"You are thoughtful." She lightly pressed her fingertips to the corner of her lips, her smile carrying a bit of girlish bashfulness, yet without losing the dignity of a noble lady.
"The wedding date for Lucius and me hasn't been set so urgently yet."
Lucius glanced at her, a soft smile flickering in his eyes.
Then his gaze circled between Narcissa and Regulus, and he nodded to Regulus: "It is our honor that the Black family could come."
Regulus didn't look at him, only at Narcissa, his tone much gentler: "Of course, my relationship with Cousin has always been very good."
Hearing this, Lucius's fingertips rubbing the rim of the glass paused, and then he chuckled.
Narcissa also understood, and her smile deepened: "When the invitations are finalized, I will personally deliver them to the ancestral home."
…When he returned to the main hall, Regulus had seemingly become the center of social activity.
Cantankerus Nott led his son and walked over slowly. Elder Nott was dressed in deep black robes, with a dense silver-grey family crest embroidered on the collar, his eyes sharp and carrying an inherent majesty.
He was the suspected author of *The Pure-Blood Directory*, and his obsession with blood purity was ingrained in his very marrow.
Young Nott had a hidden hostility toward Regulus but didn't dare to show it.
Regulus remembered him; when the two houses had a conflict over Quidditch, this was the fellow who questioned his position.
Cygnus Rosier walked over with his daughter. He had a gentle smile and elegant manners, and the dark patterns on his robes were the signature thorn design of the Rosier family, exuding a low-key luxury.
Among these people, some truly wanted to make friends, some were showing goodwill for the sake of family interests, and some carried hidden malice.
Regulus could clearly perceive that there was a wizard who had a friendly smile and a gentle grip when shaking his hand.
But Regulus could feel the malice mixed in his magic, almost overflowing like a poison that couldn't be hidden.
This kind of person was either stupid or a useless hack.
A truly sophisticated wizard can perfectly hide their emotions and thoughts, greeting you with a smile on the surface while stabbing you fatally in the back.
And someone who couldn't even hide their malice wouldn't amount to much; they only needed a bit of attention and didn't need to be taken to heart.
Just then, a more obvious malice came, but it was completely unthreatening.
Regulus looked toward the sensation; Alge Travers was standing not far away, holding a champagne glass and staring at him with a livid face.
Regulus met his gaze, his eyes calm, even carrying a hint of subtle provocation.
Several people talking near him noticed the abnormality and followed his gaze, instantly understanding something; the conflict between Travers and Regulus was no longer a secret in pure-blood circles.
Head of the Nott family coughed lightly, his tone carrying an obvious bias: "The Travers boy, why has he been standing there all this time?"
A junior from the Yaxley family sneered: "Probably hasn't recovered from the incident at Hogwarts yet."
The surrounding gazes fell collectively on Alge Travers, carrying mockery and ridicule.
Alge's face instantly flushed red, his hand holding the champagne glass trembling slightly; he wanted to lash out but was pulled back by his father beside him.
Head of the Travers family had a terrible expression, barely nodding toward Regulus before forcibly pulling Alge away.
Looking at Alge's pathetic retreating figure, Regulus felt a bit amused in his heart.
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