About ten minutes later, Narcissa arrived as well.
She did not sit at first. Instead, she stood beside the sofa, looking down at Regulus. Firelight warmed her blond hair with a soft glow, but her expression was serious.
"You scared me today," Narcissa said quietly.
"Sorry?" Regulus looked up at her. He understood what she meant.
Cousin Narcissa cared far more about family than Bellatrix ever had. She had warned him more than once to mind his limits when showing his abilities.
Even before he started at Hogwarts, she had shared the lessons she had learned herself. Regulus could feel her concern, and because it came from family, he always treated her with genuine sincerity.
Still, Regulus had his own considerations. He was not truly a child.
"It's not a bad thing." Narcissa sat down beside him, movements graceful as ever.
"I just… suddenly realized you've grown up. Uncle Orion wrote to me, asked me to keep an eye on you at school. Aunt Walburga mentioned it too. But now it seems you don't need anyone watching over you."
Regulus did not respond, but his gaze softened.
Narcissa continued, "The way you handled things today was very mature. But it was also dangerous. You put yourself in the open. More people will start watching you."
"Let them watch." Regulus's tone was firm. He meant it partly to reassure her. In truth, he did not care much at all.
He was far clearer in his own mind. As a first-year, he still needed to act within the rules, to stay under the professors' eyes, to maintain the image of an exemplary student.
But at the core, he did not need to look up to the upper years.
It was not arrogance. It was a matter of fact. What filled their minds, all that so-called house politics and pure-blood maneuvering, looked laughably shallow to him.
Two years from now, when he reached third year, how precise would his magical control be? How many constellations would his meditation encompass? How many spells would he master, and how strong would his magic become?
By then, the people worth comparing himself to would no longer be Hogwarts students, but the so-called elite Aurors of the Ministry of Magic, perhaps even certain professors.
After all, Voldemort had created a Horcrux by fifth year. What was Regulus lacking?
His gaze had never lingered on mediocrity.
"Cousin Narcissa," Regulus said at last, his voice lower than before. "You're worried about me drawing attention. But from another angle, letting people see my position clearly might be safer."
Narcissa frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
"The Black family's heir will stand somewhere sooner or later. Instead of letting others guess, test, and scheme in the dark, it's better for me to set the tone myself. That's stronger than hiding."
He paused, watching her reaction. When she did not object, he continued.
"As for choosing sides… cousin, let's talk about that." Regulus leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping.
"Bellatrix's side. Voldemort's side. I know they're recruiting. I also understand the Black family's current stance."
Narcissa did not interrupt. Her eyes told him to go on.
"But I want to ask," Regulus said, meeting her gaze directly. "Does the Black family, or the Sacred Twenty-Eight, really have only two choices?"
Narcissa's breath caught. He had not spelled it out, but she knew the two choices he meant. Allegiance to Voldemort, or alignment with Dumbledore.
"A wizarding family that has lasted a thousand years," Regulus continued, "does it survive by betting on the right side every time power shifts? Or does it endure because no matter who rises, the family remains standing?"
As he spoke, a thought stayed unspoken. In the original timeline, the Black family had been the counterexample. They had bet blindly on Voldemort and nearly wiped themselves out.
That had been Walburga's fanaticism, Sirius's rebellion, and a chain of compounded mistakes.
If Regulus was here, it did not have to end that way.
Narcissa fell silent for a long time. Firelight flickered across her face.
"Regulus," she said softly, "you know Bellatrix is… very trusted by him right now."
Regulus leaned back against the sofa, eyes resting on the dancing flames, his expression calm.
After a few seconds, he looked back at her.
"Cousin," Regulus asked, "does the Black family need that trust?"
Narcissa froze. It was a question she had never truly considered.
Did the Black family need it?
That was Voldemort.
Yet as the thought settled, his earlier words returned to her. A thousand-year-old family. Did it really have to throw itself entirely to one side?
Why was every pure-blood family debating which side to join?
Whose problem was that, exactly?
Regulus went on, his tone easing. "Bellatrix is a member of the Black family. The trust she gains is, naturally, also a resource for the family."
"But how that resource is used, who uses it, and when, that all matters."
He looked at Narcissa steadily. She seemed momentarily lost in thought.
"An investment should be judged by long-term return. Betting everything for a short-term surge is something gamblers do, not families that survive for centuries."
He was speaking with extreme restraint. He could only imply that Voldemort would not last forever. He could not say more.
Narcissa's pupils contracted slightly. She understood part of it, and began to notice things she had never examined before.
Bellatrix devoted herself entirely to that great cause. She gave everything she was. But to the Black family, Bellatrix was still only one member.
Regulus was talking about legacy.
"So you mean…" Narcissa's voice turned cautious. "The Black family shouldn't rely on only one path?"
"I mean," Regulus said gently, "if a tree has only one deep root and all the others wither, what holds it steady when the storm comes?"
He looked at her. The firelight made his gray eyes seem unusually deep. "Cousin, the Black family is not a sapling. We have many roots."
"That man needs power," Regulus said, returning to the topic from a different angle. "And power comes in many forms."
"Fanatical loyalty is one kind. A clear, rational mind is another. Warriors who charge into battle are one kind. Those who manage resources and stabilize the rear are far rarer."
He continued, "Bellatrix has already proven the Black family can provide the first. What if we can also provide the second?"
Narcissa drew in a slow breath. Looking at her eleven-year-old cousin, she felt a chill of realization.
He had never once said he would not be loyal. He had even affirmed that man's needs throughout.
Yet the meaning was unmistakable. The Black family should join as a collaborator, even a strategic provider of resources, not as a mere follower.
It was far more sophisticated. And far more difficult.
"These ideas…" Narcissa's voice was dry. "Have you said any of this to Uncle Orion?"
Regulus shook his head. "My father will understand."
He thought of the Family Ring. The key to the restricted library. His father's reminders to be restrained.
Orion Black had never been a fanatic. He was a pragmatic head of house.
Sending his son to Slytherin, allowing and even supporting Regulus's independence, all of it was laying groundwork for this goal.
When the storm came, even if the Black family boarded the ship, they would sit in a cabin with windows, not be locked in the hold.
Narcissa nodded slowly. She understood now. Not only his reasoning, but why he had acted the way he did today.
He had been displaying the second kind of power.
The ability to manage a situation and weigh outcomes.
That message was for every observer, including the one who might be watching from afar.
"I understand," Narcissa said solemnly. "So you need information. Information that helps the family make the right judgments."
"Yes." Regulus leaned forward slightly, adopting a more trusting posture.
"Cousin, what we lack right now isn't a stance. It's perspective. Relying only on what comes from Bellatrix is like walking with one eye closed, and that eye is crooked."
Narcissa immediately thought of Bellatrix's letters, thick with fevered devotion, and her increasingly extreme behavior. If the Black family listened to only that voice, it would be disastrous.
"I'll pay attention," Narcissa promised seriously. "Not just the Malfoys, but the Lestranges, other families, and rumors within the Ministry of Magic."
"If it has value, I'll tell you."
"Through secure means," Regulus added. "Or face to face."
He could not risk sensitive information ever touching parchment. Voldemort's need for control was absolute. There was no telling how he might monitor others.
Narcissa nodded. "All right."
With the core of the discussion settled, Regulus finally relaxed. His tone grew lighter.
"By the way, cousin," he asked casually, "is old Mr. Malfoy's health any better?"
The question sounded like nothing more than a younger relative checking on an elder.
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Stone plzzz