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In the spring of 1966, Regulus turned five.
In the Black family, five years old meant the formal beginning of education.
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at three in the afternoon, Walburga would conduct the Family Glory lesson in the small study.
A massive House of Black tapestry hung on the wall, stretching from ceiling to floor. Gold and silver threads were embroidered into the dark fabric, weaving a thousand years of marital alliances into a dense, intricate network.
Monday was Genealogy!
"Look here," Walburga said, pointing her long ebony pointer at the top of the tapestry. "Linfred Black, a twelfth-century healer, universally acknowledged as the founder of our family…"
Regulus sat on a hard wooden chair, his hands neatly folded on his knees, his eyes following the movement of the pointer.
"Regulus, repeat what I just said." Walburga's voice snapped him back to attention.
"From 1578 to 1623, the House of Black intermarried into the Rosier family four times, and into the Fawley family three times. These were interspersed with alliances with the Crouch and Travers families, forming a stable structure," Regulus replied fluently.
Walburga nodded in satisfaction and turned to Sirius. "And you?"
Sirius squirmed restlessly in his chair. "Who can remember all that? They're all dead people anyway!"
"They are your ancestors!"
"Dead is dead," Sirius muttered under his breath.
Walburga's expression darkened and she was about to lose her temper when Regulus spoke up just in time to interrupt. "Mother, I have a question."
"Speak."
"Why is it that after the fourteenth century, we only married within the Twenty-Eight pure blood families?" Regulus pointed to the earlier section of the tapestry. "Here it shows that between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries, the Blacks also married into the Prewett, Macmillan, and even the Bones family. But then it stops."
Walburga's expression stiffened for a moment. "Because those families fell into degeneracy."
"How did they fall?"
"They began accepting Muggle-borns, and even intermarrying with Muggles," Walburga's voice turned stern. "Their bloodlines were polluted. The House of Black must remain pure. That is our responsibility."
"But the Prewett family is still on the list of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," Regulus pointed out.
"That is a compromise! A foolish list drawn up by the Ministry!" Walburga struck the tapestry with her pointer, making several portraits flinch back in fright. "True pure-blood families are growing fewer by the day. We are the last beacon in a tainted world."
It was an extremely narrow-minded view, but not entirely incomprehensible. In a world where magic was inherited, bloodlines did matter. But to attribute everything to blood alone was far too simplistic.
Regulus glanced at Sirius. He knew his brother was destined never to accept this doctrine, and perhaps that was for the best.
A thought suddenly surfaced in his mind; maybe Sirius leaving the House of Black would be better for him.
The idea startled Regulus himself, but the more he considered it, the more sound the logic became.
In the future, the Black family would side with Voldemort, with the exception of Sirius and Andromeda.
If Sirius was destined to rebel, then it would be better for him to leave early, to join the opposing camp as soon as possible. Perhaps that way, he would stand a better chance of surviving the coming war.
As for himself, Regulus Black, this identity was fated to be pulled into darkness.
He needed the resources of the House of Black. He needed the status of a pure blood. He needed to get close to the core of the Death Eaters in order to acquire knowledge.
He and Sirius were walking two paths that were bound to stand against each other one day.
Wednesday was Bloodline Superiority!
"Muggles are incomplete creatures," Walburga paced back and forth in the study, a habit she had whenever her emotions ran high. "They have no magic. Like birds without wings, like fish without gills. They are failures of evolution."
Sirius raised his hand. This was something Regulus had taught him. When Mother lectured and asked questions, raise your hand first; it avoided direct confrontation.
"Speak."
"But Muggles can build aeroplanes," Sirius said. "Aeroplanes can fly. They can fly even without wings."
Walburga sneered. "A clumsy imitation. Using metal and fuel, noisy as anything, polluting the air. A wizard's broomstick is elegant, quiet, and environmentally friendly."
"But aeroplanes can fly higher, faster, and carry more people," Regulus added calmly.
The room fell silent. Walburga stared at her younger son. "Are you defending Muggles?"
"I am stating facts," Regulus said. "Mother, if we truly are superior to Muggles, then we should surpass them in every aspect.
If all we can do is comfort ourselves by saying magic is more elegant, while they surpass us in speed, load capacity, and altitude, then who exactly is truly superior?"
Sirius sucked in a sharp breath, waiting for their mother to explode.
But Walburga did not explode. She froze where she stood, her lips moved, but no words came out.
Regulus continued. "Perhaps the issue is not about who is superior, but about what we choose to develop. Muggles develop technology, we develop magic.
But if we cling stubbornly to tradition and refuse to change, while Muggle technology continues to advance, then one day the gap will grow too large to ignore."
"The Ministry has the Statute of Secrecy…" Walburga's voice weakened slightly.
"The Statute of Secrecy is built on the assumption that Muggles will never discover us," Regulus said. "But what if one day Muggle technology can detect magic? What if they invent instruments that can see through Disillusionment Charms? What if we are still arguing over blood purity while they are already found a way to break Muggle-Repelling Charms?"
Walburgawas silent for a long time before finally saying, "That will be all for today."
She left in a hurry.
Sirius leaned over and whispered, "You scared her."
"Mayhaps," Regulus said as he hopped down from the hard wooden chair. "But someone has to tell the truth."
"Why are you speaking up for Muggles?" Sirius asked, curious.
"I am not speaking up for Muggles," Regulus looked at him. "I just hate lies. If we are truly powerful, then we do not need to demean others to prove it."
Sirius nodded, half-understanding, half-not.
...
At dinner, Walburga brought up the latest news she had heard at the table. "The Nott family's daughter actually wants to marry a Mudblood! Mr. Nott was so furious that he locked her in the tower. They say she will be sent to a convent in France and kept there for the rest of her life."
Sirius was cutting his steak. When he heard this, his knife and fork stopped.
"Why?" he asked. "She likes that person, doesn't she?"
"Likes him?" Walburga reacted as if she had heard the most absurd word imaginable. "Can 'liking' someone put food on the table? Can 'liking' someone keep the bloodline pure? She has simply lost her senses!"
"But if two people like each other—"
"Enough!" Walburga's voice rose sharply. "Sirius, how many times have I warned you? Do not let those filthy Muggle ideas pollute your mind! A member of the House of Black must have responsibility! Must have duty!"
"Responsibility means imprisoning your own daughter?" Sirius sprang to his feet, his chair scraping back with a harsh screech. "Responsibility means tearing apart two people who love each other?"
"She does not love him. She is just being…"
"How do you know?" Sirius shouted back. "You aren't her! You don't even know that person at all!"
Orion set down his knife and fork. "Sirius, sit down."
"I won't!" Sirius's eyes were red now. "This isn't fair! Why can we not choose who we like? Why must we marry someone from the Twenty-Eight families? I don't even know any of the people on that list! Maybe I would not even like them at all!"
Walburga stood as well, her wand already sliding into her hand. "Say that again!!"
Regulus watched the scene unfold, feeling utterly speechless. Sirius's rebelliousness was on full display at this moment. He did not even truly understand what love was, yet he instinctively opposed this kind of cruelty.
And their Mother did nothing but press down harder, forcing Sirius to accept her pure-blood ideology.
"Mother," Regulus said calmly. "What Sirius means is that feelings are an important factor when choosing a partner. But from the perspective of family continuity, bloodline stability does deserve priority. Perhaps the two can be balanced. For example, within the Twenty-Eight families, one could choose someone they genuinely like."
Walburga froze for a moment, her anger subsiding slightly. "That is only natural… if it is within an appropriate range, then feelings are better to have."
Sirius, however, stared at his younger brother, his eyes wounded. "You are speaking for them too? Do you also think bloodline matters more than liking someone?"
"I am talking about reality," Regulus met his gaze. "The reality is that the House of Black will not accept those of Muggle-borns. Those who resist will be disowned. You must either accept the rules, or leave."
Sirius understood. He looked at his brother, then at his parents, and suddenly laughed.
He turned and left the dining room. There was no door-slamming or shouting. He simply walked away in silence.
Orion said nothing, but he only looked at Regulus, his expression complicated.
Dinner continued in silence.
...
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[CHAPTER END]