When Madam Pomfrey saw him, her brows were still drawn tight, but she did not stop him this time. "Five minutes."
"Thank you, Madam," Regulus replied politely.
She waved him off and returned to her work.
Hermes looked much the same as he had two days ago.
His complexion remained ashen. The dark blotches along his neck and collarbone had not faded, and the web-like veins continued their slow crawl across his arms.
But his breathing had steadied. His chest rose and fell in a more regular rhythm, and his eyes no longer twitched beneath their lids. He seemed… calmer.
Regulus stood by the bed without leaning in.
He let his magic extend outward, brushing against the currents within Hermes's body. The curse was still active, still gnawing at him, but the rate of corrosion had slowed.
A gentler magic flowed across the surface of his skin. Madam Pomfrey's healing spells.
After two minutes, Regulus turned and left.
On the third afternoon, when he pushed open the door again, there was someone new inside the Hospital Wing.
The man stood with his back to the entrance at Hermes's bedside. Nearly six feet tall, dressed in a black robe.
The fabric was dark-patterned silk, expertly tailored but old in style. Silver-threaded thorns coiled along the cuffs and collar.
Regulus recognized it immediately. The Mulciber family crest.
The light in the Hospital Wing barely reflected off the cloth.
At the sound of the door, the man turned.
Abros Mulciber's face looked carved from stone. High cheekbones. Deep-set eyes. Gray-brown irises that narrowed when he looked at someone, as though measuring the distance to their throat.
His lips were thin, the corners naturally downturned, giving him a faintly sinister air even at rest.
There was something about him that came from long years of handling dark magic. A distance from life itself. Cold, oppressive.
Regulus paused at the doorway and inclined his head slightly. "Mr. Mulciber."
Abros studied him. His gaze moved from Regulus's face to the Black family crest on his robes, then back again.
"The youngest son of the House of Black," Abros said, his voice low and rough. "Regulus."
"Yes, Mr. Mulciber." Regulus nodded calmly.
"Hermes has mentioned you." Abros turned back toward the bed. "Said you're… different."
Regulus did not respond to that. He stepped closer, stopping two paces to Abros's side. "How is Hermes?"
"He will wake." The answer was brief. Abros's eyes rested on his son, unreadable.
From an inner pocket of his robe, he withdrew a small crystal vial. Inside was a thick, dark-purple liquid, flecked with drifting golden sparks.
"A family potion," he said. "With Madam Pomfrey's treatment, the curse should be purged within three days."
Regulus watched the liquid slide slowly along the inner glass.
"He was unlucky," he said. "Wandering alone at night and stumbling into something that dangerous."
Abros ran a finger along the crystal vial but did not reply.
"I thought he would be more cautious," Regulus continued, sounding every bit the concerned dorm mate. "There have always been rumors about ancient wards near the Astronomy Tower. Trespassing isn't exactly safe."
Abros's fingers stilled.
He turned his head slowly. His narrowed eyes sharpened. "The Astronomy Tower?"
"Isn't that what people say around the castle?" Regulus met his gaze evenly, his expression neutral.
"They say there's a chamber beneath the Astronomy Tower dating back to Hogwarts's founding. Protected by ancient magic. That anyone who barges in risks being cursed."
Silence settled between them.
Only Hermes's faint breathing filled the room, along with the distant clink of Madam Pomfrey organizing her cabinets.
Abros stared at him, lips pressed into a thin line.
A few seconds later, he turned back and set the crystal vial on the bedside table.
"There are many legends at Hogwarts," he said flatly. "Most of them are meant to frighten children."
"True." Regulus nodded. "Where was Hermes found, then?"
"Fourth-floor east corridor. Outside the abandoned Trophy Room." Abros's tone did not shift. "He was likely looking for a place to practice magic and touched something he should not have."
"How unfortunate." Regulus shook his head faintly, as though lamenting Hermes's misfortune.
"Indeed." Abros inclined his head once, displeasure flickering at his son's recklessness.
That was the end of the conversation.
Abros clearly had no intention of saying more. He withdrew a pocket watch, checked the time, and gave Regulus a small nod. "I must be going. Give my regards to Orion."
"I will, sir."
Abros strode toward the exit. The hem of his black robe brushed against the stone floor with a faint scraping sound.
At the doorway, he paused and looked back at Regulus.
The look was complicated. Regulus saw the warning in it. Perhaps something else as well.
Then the door closed.
Regulus remained where he was, his eyes drifting to the crystal vial on the bedside table. The dark-purple liquid gleamed under the lamplight, its color almost unnatural.
Of course Abros knew about the Astronomy Tower. Hermes's task had likely been assigned by him.
And Abros knew exactly what kind of curse Hermes had suffered. The potion he brought was far too specific to be coincidence.
Most importantly, Abros was hiding something. He had provided Hermes's discovery point, but he had not mentioned any accomplice. Nor any attacker.
Otherwise, the school would already be reacting.
Regulus turned and left the Hospital Wing.
The sky outside was dimming. He descended the stone steps toward the dungeons, his mind still turning.
Abros's arrival was a signal. Hermes's recovery would accelerate.
And to whoever was behind this, that was dangerous. The sooner Hermes woke, the greater the risk that he would name them.
Judging from Abros's demeanor, Hermes might not volunteer anything.
But the professors would press him.
So what would the other party do?
Wait and gamble that Hermes would not, or could not, expose them.
Or act to ensure he never woke at all.
More likely, they would rush to finish whatever lay beneath the Astronomy Tower, seize the result, and pretend none of this had ever happened.
If Regulus were the one who had betrayed a partner, and his tracks were already exposed, the most rational strategy would be to move fast and end it quickly.
---
That night, Regulus began making preparations.
Along the key routes between the Slytherin Common Room and the Astronomy Tower, he set warning charms.
The spell structure was adapted from an old note in the library on tracking magic. It could be calibrated for time, route, and magical signature. Anyone who met the conditions and crossed the boundary would trigger an alert.
He placed one near the turning of the moving staircase close to Gryffindor Tower. Another in the corridor outside the Ravenclaw astronomy classroom. A third beside the portrait that concealed the entrance to the Hufflepuff kitchens.
As for Slytherin, he set one at the entrance to the Common Room, another at the dormitory corridor, and a final one at the base of the main staircase leading upward through the castle.
It took two and a half hours.
By the time he returned to his dormitory, it was nearly midnight. Cuthbert and Alex were already asleep, their breathing even.
Regulus lay down, closed his eyes, and let his awareness sink inward.
In the darkness, the half-formed four-star model of Orion flared to life. The halo at Bellatrix's position was steadier than it had been three days ago, its edges clearer.
Magic circulated along the stellar paths. With each completed cycle, both body and mind strengthened by a fraction.
He maintained the state for three hours before allowing his consciousness to rise and drift into sleep.
---
At two seventeen in the morning, he woke.
A faint prickling pain bloomed along the inside of his left arm, like the light touch of a needle.
One of the warning charms had been triggered.
Location: the Slytherin Common Room.
Regulus opened his eyes.
He listened.
Only Cuthbert's soft snoring and the faint rustle of Alex turning in his sleep.
He sat up soundlessly, retrieved his wand from beside his pillow, and cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself.
His outline blurred, faded and then dissolved into the darkness.
He pushed open the dormitory door and stepped into the Common Room.
The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers, dark-red coals occasionally spitting sparks.
The room was empty at first glance. Armchairs sat at odd angles. A few sheets of parchment and empty cups were scattered across the low table.
Then he saw them.
Two figures on the rug near the fireplace.
A boy and a girl, both fifth-years.
The boy had his back to Regulus. The girl leaned against him, pressed close, their heads tilted together. Soft, wet sounds filled the quiet.
The girl's hand slipped beneath the boy's collar, fingers searching. The boy's arm circled her waist, his grip tightening in the folds of her robe.
Regulus stood there for two seconds.
Then he turned, walked back to the dormitory without a sound, closed the door, lifted the Disillusionment Charm, and lay down again.
The prickling sensation faded. The trigger had been those two fifth-years, not someone heading toward the Astronomy Tower.
Regulus closed his eyes.
A stray thought surfaced.
Fifth year. O.W.L.s looming.
And instead of studying or sleeping, they were making out in the Common Room.
They really had far too much free time.
---
A/N- Lolllll