Harry Potter: Reborn as Regulus Black Chapter 131: Someone's About to Jump [bonus]

The owl could have been one of Hogwarts's own, or borrowed from so wizard in Knockturn Alley.

The handwriting was deliberately stripped of personality, the content oblique, but the information it carried was sufficient. The approach was pure Slytherin.

But why anonymous?

Likely because the subject matter was sensitive enough to warrant it.

Open discussion of purging the unworthy already skirted dangerous territory. If soone intended to push that agenda in a semi-public venue like the Slytherin Common Room, deeper motives were at play.

It could be a test. It could be a declaration of alignnt. Or it could be performance, staged for a specific audience.

The Burke and Black families had a cooperative bent. Lucretius had chosen to inform Regulus, but he didn't want to be dragged into whatever was coming.

So he'd sent the warning without leaving a trail.

Regulus continued eating breakfast while his mind worked.

A public statent. The topic: recent sentint. Soone was about to drag the undercurrent into the open.

The possible motives branched several ways.

Establishing dominance. Within Slytherin, whoever first raised the banner of Pure-blood purification would attract followers. So would be true believers. Others, opportunists looking for coattails to ride.

Signaling outward. Voldemort's forces were expanding. They needed fresh recruits. If soone could rally a faction right under Dumbledore's nose, that person beca a prospect worth cultivating. Tonight's statent might be a letter of introduction, written in action instead of ink.

Manufacturing a schism. Slytherin wasn't monolithic. Hardliners and moderates coexisted beneath the surface. Pushing a charged issue into the open would force everyone to pick a side, dragging hidden fault lines into view. And once the house fractured, soone could step in to consolidate the pieces.

Lucretius had advised him not to intervene, but Regulus had no intention of following that advice entirely.

He wanted to see who stepped forward. What they were after. And whether any of it was aid at him.

Morning classes proceeded as usual.

During History of Magic, Regulus took notes, occasionally glancing out the window.

The weather was fine. Sunlight glittered across the Black Lake, the giant squid's tentacles breaking the surface now and then before slipping back under.

Lunch passed without incident.

Over at the Gryffindor table, Alphard Prewett's face bore its own damage. His left cheek was swollen.

He sat with Macmillan and Diggory, eating in near-silence, occasionally lifting his head to glare toward Slytherin. Nothing more than that.

The afternoon brought Potions.

Professor Slughorn continued with the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. The steps were complex, the ingredient preparation demanding. One or two lessons wouldn't cover it.

Regulus partnered with Alex. Cuthbert paired with Hers.

Alex's hands shook while handling the Billywig stingers, and he nearly splashed venom out of the mortar. Regulus caught the droplet mid-air with a Wingardium Leviosa, guiding it precisely into the cauldron.

Slughorn noticed and awarded Slytherin five points.

The bell rang. Students packed up and filed out of the dungeon classroom.

The corridor was packed. Regulus walked at the front, Cuthbert, Alex, and Hers half a step behind.

Near the fork leading to the Great Hall, Regulus stopped and turned.

"No Room of Requirent tonight." His tone was even, his gaze moving between them.

All three looked at him.

"Sothing may happen this evening," he continued. "In the common room. All you need to do is watch. Don't act, don't speak. Treat it like a show."

Alex's mouth fell open. "Are we going to have to fight?"

His expression shifted oddly, as though a thought had crossed his mind, but he didn't press further. He nodded.

Whatever Regulus said was what they did. That had beco habit.

Cuthbert's eyes lit up. "Fight? Who?"

The question was barely out before he caught himself. If the situation actually called for Regulus's personal involvent, Cuthbert charging in would more likely create chaos than help.

He shut his mouth, but the excitent on his face was impossible to hide.

Hers was the calst. He studied Regulus for a beat, then nodded.

Had it been anything else, he might have volunteered. But when it ca to a fight, he understood Regulus's capabilities better than Cuthbert or Alex did.

Hitting would be as easy for him as hitting a Muggle child. That awareness kept him quiet.

Regulus finished his instructions and turned back toward the Great Hall.

His thoughts had already moved elsewhere.

During the Astronomy Tower incident, he'd planned to use the situation as leverage, making an example of whoever was pulling strings behind the scenes. A display of strength and a preemptive clearing of threats.

Then Darren Macnair had taken himself out of the equation, robbing Regulus of the chance.

A minor disappointnt at the ti, but nothing to dwell on. Opportunities always ca around again.

Now one had arrived.

Soone was about to push a volatile issue in the common room, and Regulus had a feeling they might try to pull him into it.

The Black na carried enough weight. His na carried enough weight. Anyone pushing a sensitive agenda would need endorsent from soone who mattered.

Whoever this person was, whatever family backed them, the mont they stepped forward, Regulus could use the opening.

Gauge what they were made of. Test how deep their support ran. Then decide whether to act, and how hard.

He hoped they wouldn't be too stupid.

Fools were boring. They made things too simple, or worse, they botched them entirely.

Ideally, this would be soone with a working brain, real ability, and decent backing. That kind of opponent had value. And if it ca to a confrontation, defeating them would yield a greater return.

At dinner, Regulus ate at an unhurried pace, chewing slowly, watching.

The Slytherin table looked normal on the surface. Upper-years debated OWLs revision plans. Mid-years passed around a copy of the Daily Prophet. Lower-years fought over the last slice of honey cake.

But a few details stood out.

At the far end of the table, a fifth-year boy from the Selwyn family kept glancing toward the common room entrance while talking to his neighbor. Three tis in the span of a few minutes.

A seventh-year girl from the Parkinson family, soone who rarely showed up for dinner, sat tucked in a corner with a book in her hands. She hadn't turned a page in ten minutes.

Clearly, Lucretius wasn't the only one who knew sothing was happening tonight.

After finishing his al, Regulus stood and headed straight for the library.

There was a show to watch later, but that was no reason to waste study ti. Voldemort himself wasn't going to derail his reading schedule.

He left the Great Hall. Footsteps followed.

Cuthbert and Alex caught up, exchanging aningful looks, communicating in that silent language of exaggerated eyebrows and darting glances.

Hers brought up the rear, his usual brooding expression restored, eyes scanning both sides of the corridor.

Regulus glanced back at Cuthbert and Alex. They snapped to attention instantly, spines straight, gazes fixed forward, faces solemn enough for a funeral procession.

Hers frowned at their whiplash transformation, visibly baffled.

The library was brightly lit. Madam Pince stood behind the front desk, sorting borrowing cards.

Regulus made his way to the Ancient Runes section and pulled out Detailed Explanation of Defensive Magic Associated with Nordic Runes, picking up where he'd left off.

He settled into a window seat and spread the book open.

Cuthbert, Alex, and Hers sat across from him.

Cuthbert grabbed a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages. Alex picked up Magical Drafts and Potions.

Hers didn't take a book. He sat there with nothing in front of him.

Regulus didn't bother with any of them.

He lost himself in the text. The Ansuz rune in the Nordic system symbolized the gods, communication, divine revelation. In astrology, it corresponded to Sirius.

Ancient wizards believed certain celestial bodies amplified specific runes, so they'd reference star positions when inscribing runic arrays.

He took notes.

Outside the window, the sky darkened by degrees. From the library, a sliver of the Black Lake was visible. The water caught the last trace of sunset, then sank into deep blue.

At eight o'clock, Madam Pince began clearing the room.

"Closing ti, children. Return your books to their places."

The four of them filed out. Torches had been lit in the corridors, their shadows stretching long against the stone walls.

They descended the staircase toward the dungeons.

Footsteps echoed through the spiral steps. The air grew cooler with each floor, carrying the damp mineral scent that always clung to the air near the Black Lake.

The common room held at least two-thirds of the house. Far more than usual. Soone had clearly put out the word.

Regulus hadn't received any notice. Deliberately excluded, most likely. He thought of Lucretius, and wondered if the Prefect had noticed that he typically returned late.

It didn't matter. He walked in without breaking stride.

Upper-years claid the pri spots around the fireplace. Mid-years clustered by the windows. Lower-years were tucked into corners.

Sothing was brewing in the air, a tension fernting just beneath the surface.

Regulus crossed to an empty sofa against the wall and sat down. Cuthbert and the others settled in beside him.

He looked toward the fireplace.

Lucretius occupied the single armchair to its right, cradling a steaming drink, expression relaxed.

Narcissa sat beside him. She wore dark green robes tonight, her hair pinned up without a strand out of place, but there was sothing uncertain in her expression.

She glanced at Regulus. He gave her a small nod, then a small shake of his head. She withdrew her gaze and leaned toward a seventh-year girl beside her, speaking in a low voice.

Regulus sank into the sofa cushion and folded his hands in his lap.

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