"Welcome home, young master."
Regulus gave it a slight nod, then stepped past and into the entrance hall.
Walburga descended the staircase at a brisk pace, her black dress trailing behind her.
"Regulus!" She stopped in front of him, both hands on his shoulders, eyes scanning him up and down. "You've grown. Good color in your face."
"Mother." He nodded. "I'm home."
A smile spread across her face, and she pulled him toward the dining room.
Orion was already seated at the head of the long table.
He looked up when Regulus entered, studied him for a moment, and nodded. "Sit. Eat."
The meal should have been breakfast by the clock, but it had been prepared as lunch, roast lamb chops, mashed potatoes, and stewed vegetables.
Walburga peppered him with questions about school. Course progress, House standings, how things were with his classmates.
Regulus answered selectively. Most of what he said had been filtered first, trimmed to what Walburga wanted to hear.
"Things have settled down inside Slytherin." He cut into a lamb chop. "Nobody picks fights anymore."
Walburga's eyes lit up. "They've seen what you can do?"
"Enough of it," Regulus said. "My roommates have come around. They accept where I stand."
"As they should!" Pride rose in her expression. "The heir to the House of Black. Everyone ought to know exactly where they rank."
The conversation drifted, inevitably, toward Sirius.
"We haven't crossed paths much this term. I've been focused on studying and practicing. He has his friends."
His tone was flat. Just stating facts.
For once, Walburga didn't launch into a tirade. She only let out a short huff. "Let him do as he pleases. The House of Black has you."
Orion ate in silence throughout, glancing up now and then at his wife and son but offering nothing.
When the meal ended, he set down his napkin. "Regulus, go settle in. My study, half an hour."
"Yes, Father."
Regulus returned to his room. It had been just over three months since he'd last been here.
Everything was exactly as he'd left it. Books on the shelves in his preferred order, the desk spotless, the sheets freshly changed.
He stood at the window and looked out over Grimmauld Place.
He raised a hand to his own face. The lines were sharper than at Christmas, his jaw more defined.
He'd grown taller, too. Looking out the window now meant tilting his head slightly down.
Half an hour later, he knocked on the study door.
"Come in."
The room smelled of ink and old books. Behind a massive mahogany desk, Orion sat with a document in hand.
He looked up at the sound of the door and gestured to the chair opposite. "Sit."
Regulus sat. The desk stretched between them, and the fire crackled in the hearth.
Orion set the document aside. "What brings you home?"
Regulus began.
He started with Hermes getting hurt, moved through the discovery of the passage beneath the Astronomy Tower, then Darren breaking through the protections.
The grey mist erupting. Staying behind to hold the line. The Patronus appearing. Dumbledore arriving. The Resentment Plague Wand being sealed.
Orion listened without expression, but his eyes never left his son's face.
When Regulus reached Dumbledore's parting words, he watched his father's reaction. Orion gave only a small nod to continue.
When he finished, silence filled the study.
"The partnership between Macnair and Mulciber has collapsed." Regulus summarized. "Darren failed his mission and lost the Resentment Plague Wand on top of it. The Mulciber family may have reached some kind of understanding with Dumbledore. Hermes follows my lead now, which is the Mulcibers' way of signaling where they stand."
Orion leaned back, fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. He nodded.
"And the professors?" he asked. "How do they treat you?"
"Beyond what's normal." Regulus answered. "Professor McGonagall taught me advanced Transfiguration applications, including spatial transfiguration. Professor Sprout showed me rare magical plants and guided the direction of my Verdant Magic. Professor Flitwick invited me to an advanced Charms seminar. Professor Slughorn has been opening doors with his connections."
He went on. "If I ask, I get answers. The depth of what they share goes well beyond standard coursework, some of it past NEWT level. They know what I'm studying, what I'm thinking about, and instead of stopping me, they help."
Orion motioned for him to continue.
"That conversation with Dumbledore..." Regulus paused to gather his thoughts. "It felt more like guidance. He spoke about the path of magic, about power and humility, about Hogwarts being a place where mistakes are allowed."
He looked up at his father.
"The professors have been good to me," Regulus continued, his voice softening slightly. "Hogwarts has been good to me."
Saying it out loud stirred something complicated in his chest, almost contradictory. The feeling was rare for him.
He knew why the professors treated him well. He understood the calculation behind it, the expectations, the interests at play.
But at the same time, the kindness was real.
McGonagall's notebook was real. Sprout's knowledge was real. Flitwick's ideas were real. Dumbledore's guidance was real.
Orion understood. He watched his son, and something complicated moved behind his own eyes.
"When someone treats you well," Orion said, his voice low, "a rational person feels the pull to repay it. That's human nature, not weakness."
"The House of Black has declared its position publicly. We stand with Voldemort. That was a family decision, made after weighing every factor. If we reversed course now, I don't need to tell you what would follow."
His gaze sharpened on Regulus, carrying an edge of expectation.
"I want to know what you think."
He wasn't asking Regulus to choose. The choice had been made.
He wasn't pressuring his son to pick a side. The side had been picked.
He only wanted to understand what was in Regulus's head. And perhaps, to give him room.
Regulus was quiet.
He stared at the fire. Watched a log split open in the flames, embers drifting upward and vanishing into the chimney.
His mind worked fast.
With anyone else, he could tailor his words to the situation. But with his father, he owed the truth.
Family allegiance. His own path. Dumbledore's expectations. Voldemort's shadow. The professors' goodwill. The power he was still building.
Every thread wove into a single, tangled web.
"My choice hasn't changed. But I won't be herded forward by someone else's hand. When the time comes that I truly need to choose..."
Images flickered through his mind. Futures that might come to pass.
"Before that moment arrives," Regulus said, lifting his gaze to meet Orion's, "I'll have the power to choose freely."
His tone was steady. Like stating a fact that hadn't happened yet but would.
Orion stiffened, barely perceptibly. He looked at his son, and something bright flickered in his eyes.
He understood what choice Regulus meant. The kind that would wound one side deeply and commit entirely to the other.
Even if Regulus didn't want to hurt anyone, someone would force his hand eventually.
And the power to choose freely was the power to refuse.
He couldn't imagine how strong a person would need to be to pull that off. But given Regulus's current trajectory, the pace of his growth... maybe it was possible.
"More progress?" A note of anticipation crept into his voice.
"Some. Not as much as I'd like," Regulus said honestly. "But the direction is clear now. I know where I'm going, how to get there, and what I need. The rest..."
The corner of his mouth lifted. Confident, but quiet about it. Not bravado but conviction. "Is just walking the road."
Orion settled back and let out a long breath. He believed him.
His son hadn't been softened by Hogwarts's warmth. Hadn't been led astray by Dumbledore's sugar-coated words.
That was a relief.
The path ahead was thick with thorns, but Regulus saw them clearly and walked with sure footing. That earned respect.
A son like this... how could he not be proud?
"But until that day comes," Orion said, watching him, "we stick to the plan."
"Understood." Regulus nodded, the weight of the word deliberate.
Orion rose and pulled open a drawer, producing a dark wooden box.
It was small, its surface marked with fine wood grain. No lock, but Regulus could feel the protective enchantments layered over it.
"For you." Orion held it out. "An Easter gift."
Regulus took it and opened the lid.
Inside lay a pocket watch. The face bore no numbers, only a pattern of stars, and the hands were slender silver arrows.
On the inside of the case lid, a line of small engraved text read: Time will prove the path.
"Your grandfather left it to me." Something distant and fond passed through Orion's voice. "Now it's yours. No special functions. It just keeps perfect time." He paused. "But sometimes, keeping perfect time is enough."
Regulus closed the case and slipped the watch into his pocket. "Thank you, Father."
Orion nodded. "Any plans for the holiday?"
"Practice." Regulus said. "There are things I can't work on at school."
"Such as?"
"Fiendfyre."
Orion's eyes lifted to him. Surprise surfaced, then faded just as quickly.
"Be careful," he said. "That spell doesn't like to be controlled."
"I know." Regulus nodded.
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