Chapter 72: Ideology and the Second Inheritance
"No reason?" Regulus cut in, and laid down his counterpoint without hesitation. "Primary and secondary contradictions can transform into each other. The primary and secondary aspects of a contradiction can also transform."
Orion's head snapped up.
He stared at Regulus as if he had just spoken a foreign language with perfect pronunciation.
Shock, doubt, and something more complicated flickered in his eyes.
His lips parted as though he meant to say something, but he swallowed it back down.
After a long moment, he finally spoke, and even here, behind a locked study door, his voice dropped lower.
"Where did you learn about that book?"
Regulus froze.
He had not expected Orion to recognise it.
He had quoted it almost reflexively. The theory was concise, and it fit the logic he wanted to express. He had assumed it would pass as nothing more than an odd turn of phrase.
"I read it casually," Regulus said, vague on purpose. "Political philosophy. Some of the viewpoints are interesting."
Orion held his gaze for a long time, then shook his head. Something close to sentimental understanding crossed his face.
"That person's writing is incisive," Orion said quietly, with a faint trace of reminiscence. "I found it in a Muggle bookshop when I was young. At the time it felt novel, nothing more."
He paused.
"After you have seen more of the world, and then look back at those arguments, you understand why some people can achieve great things."
A strange sensation rose in Regulus's chest.
He had not expected this in the House of Black. Not here, not from Orion, not from a pure blood head of house who sat in the Wizengamot and spoke the language of tradition as easily as breathing.
The thought passed in a heartbeat.
Orion brought the conversation back to the point.
"How likely is your speculation?"
"I do not know," Regulus answered honestly. "Thirty percent. Fifty percent."
Then he added, calm as a knife.
"But with matters like this, even a one percent chance demands preparation as if it were certain. If something truly happens to Abraxas, it means the wind has changed."
"The wind," Orion repeated, eyes narrowing slightly.
"From cooperation to control," Regulus said. "From recruiting allies to purging dissidents. If Abraxas dies in that way, it becomes a sign."
He kept his tone even, but every word landed hard.
"It tells the pure blood families that there is no middle ground. Submit completely, or be pushed out."
Orion fell silent.
He stood and crossed to the bookshelf, pulled out a heavy genealogy, and flipped to the modern branches. His finger ran down the Malfoy entry, then paused at the place where House of Black connected to the rest.
"If it is truly as you say," Orion asked, voice low and testing, "what should we do?"
"Wait," Regulus said firmly. "Wait for the event. Wait for Lucius to inherit. Wait for him to feel pressure. Wait until he learns that money alone is not enough."
He looked at Orion directly.
"That is when he will need real allies. That is when we move."
He added, "Narcissa is my cousin. The Malfoys and Blacks are naturally aligned. While Abraxas lived, the two houses were closer to equals."
"If it becomes Lucius, we can provide what he lacks."
"Provide what?" Orion asked, though his eyes already suggested he understood.
"Wisdom. Experience. Power. Connections," Regulus said. "And most importantly, the method of preserving a family in the middle of a storm."
"Lucius does not have those things now. It will be difficult for him to gain them later. We have them."
Orion closed the genealogy and returned it to the shelf.
When he walked back behind the desk, there was a faint thread of pride in his eyes.
"Lucius," Orion said slowly, "is shrewd and excellent at social manoeuvring. But as you said, he lacks his father's foresight."
"He is drawn to immediate benefit. He does not plan far enough ahead. From a family standpoint he has not done anything outrageous in public, but"
Orion's voice cooled.
"Last year there was a proposal in the Ministry regarding protections for magical creatures. It should have passed. Lucius spent ten thousand Galleons lobbying to have it rejected."
"The reason was simple. Several families were smuggling those animals and promised to let him share the profit."
Orion continued, expression hardening.
"There was also a Muggle born employee in the Ministry up for promotion. Lucius quietly tripped them. In the end, the person was forced to resign."
"No real reason. He simply believed a Muggle born should not rise that high."
Orion shook his head.
"Small or large, these things are praised in pure blood circles. People call it knowing how to look after one's own. But when they accumulate, they plant danger somewhere. Always."
Regulus nodded.
"That is why he will need allies even more. One person makes a mistake, one person pays. A group makes a mistake, the price is shared."
"You understand this very well," Orion said, almost to himself.
He did not know how Regulus understood it. Hogwarts did not teach this kind of thinking. Magical education could not produce it.
This was pure wisdom, unrelated to spellwork.
The conversation had reached its depth. Orion indicated he would watch the Malfoys carefully and begin preparing for that possibility.
Then he spoke simply.
"Go rest. School begins tomorrow."
"All right."
Regulus left the study.
Back in his room, his thoughts felt oddly unsettled.
The conversation had a flavour to it. Something that rarely existed in Grimmauld Place. It caused a small ripple in his state of mind.
He sat at his desk, closed his eyes, and let his consciousness sink inward.
Starry Sky Meditation began to move, and the grand internal imagery smoothed the clutter of his thoughts.
When his mind was fully quiet again, he opened his eyes and began to plan.
The Malfoys were handled, as much as could be handled by words. Orion would take it from here.
Regulus's priority was more practical.
Power.
There was half a day left of the holiday.
Enough time to do one thing.
Obtain a second inheritance.
Nature Magic had given him direction, but it did not give him immediate combat strength.
He needed something that could take effect now, something that could change a battlefield instantly.
Space Magic suited that requirement.
And the Black inheritance happened to contain a relevant technique.
The Space Anchor Charm.
Regulus stood and walked towards the family Chamber of Secrets.
He held most permissions in the house now.
No ward resisted him.
He pushed open the obsidian door and stepped into the spacious, solemn chamber.
On the stone platform, more than a dozen memory crystals glowed faintly under the light of magical torches.
He placed his fingers on one cold sphere.
A vast rush of memory and magic slammed into his consciousness.
The ancestor was from the fourteenth century, an era when research into space related magic had reached a peak.
The Space Anchor Charm she left behind was not an offensive spell, and not truly defensive either.
It was a stabilisation spell.
Its principle was simple in concept and terrifying in effect.
Invisible anchors were placed within the void, fixing the surrounding spatial structure in place.
It produced two primary results.
First, it resisted Apparition raids, but it was not the same as a modern Anti Apparition Jinx.
Space within the anchor's range became viscous. Forcing Apparition into it was like leaping into concrete as it set. Movement slowed drastically, or failed entirely.
Second, it stabilised spatial structures. Any magic that attempted to distort, tear, expand, or fold space was weakened within the anchored range.
Regulus watched the ancestor's battles through the memory.
In one, she faced a Dark wizard skilled in Apparition strikes. She laid three anchors around herself first.
The enemy tried to Apparate behind her.
The moment he appeared, his body locked in mid air as if caught in invisible mire. She ended it with a backhand Severing Charm.
In another, an enemy attempted to tear her apart with space distortion. The anchors held. The distortion happened outside the anchored range, warping uselessly at the border, while she stood at the centre untouched.
The inheritance lasted about half an hour.
When Regulus withdrew his hand, fine sweat had gathered on his forehead.
Two inheritances taken close together were a heavy mental burden. A faint throbbing pain pulsed deep inside his consciousness, as if his mind had been forced to swallow too much at once.
But the core principle was clear now.
Use magic to tie knots into space itself.
Make an area stable, solid, difficult to shake.
Anchor positions could be chosen freely.
Numbers could be stacked.
Range could be adjusted.
In theory, if anchors were placed densely enough, one could create a field that effectively prohibited Space Magic entirely.
House elves would fail.
Portkeys would fail.
Regulus did not know whether a phoenix could force its way through such a field, but it would be difficult.
Even a Starling would struggle.
He left the Chamber of Secrets and returned to his room.
He sat on the edge of his bed and let the knowledge settle.
There was too much to organise. It would take time to sort it properly.
Outside the window, London's night looked peaceful.
In the distance, Big Ben struck ten.
The sound passed through the wards, dull and long.
Regulus lay back and closed his eyes.
The last few days replayed behind his lids.
The gloom of Knockturn Alley.
The brief test of real combat.
The conversation with Orion.
The second inheritance.
Every step had pushed him forward.
Every step had increased his strength.
The holiday was over.
Hogwarts tomorrow.
Sleep.