Narcissa's tone turned serious. "Bella already knows. She will contact you soon, perhaps by letter, perhaps by coming to Hogwarts in person. She will test you, assess you, and then decide whether to recommend you to that Lord."
Regulus remained silent for a few seconds.
"So, what is your advice?" he asked.
"Hold back a little. At least in public. You can show talent, but not to that extent. At Hogwarts, especially with a professor like Slughorn who loves collecting talent, your reputation will spread quickly. And if that reputation reaches ears that shouldn't hear it, it will bring trouble, or opportunity, depending on how you look at it."
I already am holding back, Regulus thought to himself. Besides, that is exactly my goal, though it is still too early. Eleven was an age for being observed. Even Voldemort wouldn't task an eleven-year-old with anything; he wasn't an African warlord in need of child soldiers.
Narcissa's tone softened slightly. "I'm not saying this to lecture you. You're smarter than I am, Regulus. I've known that since you were five. But smart people sometimes trust themselves too much and tend to overlook their surroundings."
Regulus nodded. "Thank you for the warning, Cousin, but I have my own considerations."
"I knew you'd say that." Narcissa sighed. "Fine. But remember, last night's business isn't over. Travers won't let it go that easily. He might not come for you personally, but he'll send others, upperclassmen, or his lackeys. That fits the Slytherin way."
"I welcome them anytime." Facing a cousin he was relatively close to, Regulus allowed his demeanor to relax a little.
Narcissa looked at him for a long time, then suddenly smiled. "Do you know? Sometimes I think you and Sirius are actually very much alike. It's not just the looks; it's that reckless streak in your bones. He just uses his for rebellion, while you use yours elsewhere."
She turned to leave but paused. "One more thing. Lucius Malfoy is very interested in you, not in that way. If he asks to see you, remember to be polite and stay cautious."
Regulus nodded. I know. Your fiancé.
Having said her piece, she walked away quickly, the hem of her robes tracing an elegant arc against the stone floor.
Regulus turned and walked toward the next classroom: History of Magic, Professor Binns's class. That would be the easiest session of the day.
...
On Friday, the sky over the Scottish Highlands was scrubbed clean.
On the training lawn for Flying lessons, twenty broomsticks lay in neat rows. Each one was old with uneven twigs, the accumulated teaching equipment of Hogwarts over many years.
Madam Hooch stood in front of the group, her gray hair short and spiky, her eyes sweeping sharply over every student.
"Right then, everyone stand by the left side of your broomstick!" Her voice was loud and crisp. "Stick out your right hand over your broom, and say, clearly, 'Up!'"
The students complied, and a ragged chorus of shouts rang out across the lawn.
"Up!"
In the front row of the Gryffindors, a red-headed boy with a face full of freckles, likely a Weasley; he'd seen him at the Sorting but hadn't bothered to remember the name, had his broom jump into his hand almost instantly. He was grinning smugly, drawing low exclamations from several Gryffindors nearby.
On the Slytherin side, Avery Cuthbert's broom rolled half a turn on the ground before rising reluctantly. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. Hermes Mulciber had to try twice; on the second attempt, the broom shot up violently, nearly hitting him in the chin.
Regulus lowered his gaze to the old Cleansweep at his feet.
"Up." His voice was steady, neither rushing nor hesitating.
The broom trembled slightly on the ground, hesitated for a second, then slapped into his open palm.
"Very good!" Madam Hooch patrolled briskly between the lines.
"Mr. Weasley, quick reaction! Now everyone listen: when I count to three, kick off gently. Let the broom rise to a height of one foot off the ground, then hover there. No higher than my shoulders! One, two... three!"
Chaos ensued as expected.
The whoosh of rising brooms, the gasps of girls, and the bravado-filled shouts of boys mixed together.
At least four brooms shot up out of control. A Gryffindor girl screamed, clutching her broomstick tight, before being saved by a timely slowing charm from Madam Hooch.
Regulus, however, hovered steadily exactly one foot off the ground, motionless.
His body was perfectly still; only the hem of his black robes fluttered rhythmically in the cold wind.
"Merlin's beard, look at that Slytherin..." In the Gryffindor line, a tall, thin boy named Benjy Fenwick whispered to his companion. "He's so steady, it's like he's glued to the sky."
Not far away, a brown-haired Gryffindor girl, Sarah Bones, also noticed the anomaly.
Her own hovering was quite good, with slight undulations like floating on a breeze. But Regulus's stability was something else entirely, no wasted movement, every shift of center-of-gravity so precise it was as if he knew the broom's every reaction a second in advance.
"Eyes front, don't look down!" Madam Hooch shouted, her wand tapping to right a few spinning students. "Now, try to move forward slowly!" Madam Hooch demonstrated a gentle pushing motion. "Feel the broom's response, like treating a living partner!"
The line began to inch forward clumsily. Most of the first-years veered off course, their speeds erratic.
Regulus glided forward about fifteen feet, constant speed, straight path, then turned left as instructed.
"Hmph, show-off!" In the Gryffindor line, a stocky boy with black hair and thick eyebrows muttered vaguely. His broom was disobediently drawing arcs left and right, forming a glaring contrast to Regulus's composure.
"He really does fly better, Alphard," the girl beside him said matter-of-factly.
"Better? He flies like a block of wood!" Alphard raised his voice, intentionally letting the wind carry his words toward the Slytherin queue. "He's stiff as a board, like he's terrified of falling off! Flying requires guts!"
Several Gryffindors chuckled quietly.
On the Slytherin side, Avery Cuthbert frowned, while Hermes Mulciber cast a dark glance at Alphard. Alex Rosier looked at Regulus with concern.
Regulus seemed not to hear.
Alphard Prewett's expression grew uglier.
As the class entered its second half, Madam Hooch let the students practice basic handling freely while she went to instruct a few who were struggling particularly hard. The training field instantly broke up into a dozen small groups.
Alphard deliberately steered his broom to hover near the Slytherin area, flanked by two friends.
"So, Black," Alphard hovered a few feet away from Regulus. "Does your family specifically train you on how to ride a broom like a statue? You know, to maintain that noble image."
Avery immediately urged his broom forward. "Watch your mouth, Prewett."
"I'm talking to Black, Cuthbert." Alphard raised his chin provocatively. "Or does he need someone else to speak for him?"
Regulus slowly turned his head, his grey eyes gazing calmly at Alphard.
"Prewett," his voice was not loud. "What are you trying to prove? Gryffindor courage? Or Prewett upbringing?"
"A Slytherin whelp talking to me about upbringing?" Alphard's voice pitched up in anger.
Regulus just watched him quietly until Alphard's face turned red, then spoke slowly: "Do you have any?"
Alphard was enraged. He knew if he didn't do something, he would become a laughingstock.
He whipped out his wand. His two friends, Colin Macmillan and Gareth Diggory, immediately followed suit, pointing their wands at the Slytherins.
"Want to fight?" Avery Cuthbert drew his wand almost simultaneously, his face a mix of wariness and excitement.
Hermes Mulciber, face gloomy, let his wand slide into his hand and silently urged his broom half a step forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Avery.
Alex Rosier turned pale; he hesitated, then tremblingly raised his wand, though his aim was clearly directed at empty space.
Alphard shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
Regulus tapped his wand out. "Expelliarmus."
His spell was faster, more solid. It struck later but arrived first. The two jets of red light collided precisely in mid-air, exploding into sparks.
The Disarming Charms canceled each other out.
"What?!" It wasn't just Alphard; the surrounding students were stunned.
You can use the Disarming Charm like that?