The Bloody Baron regarded Regulus with an inscrutable expression. In that mont, Regulus felt as though a great deal about him had been seen through.
"An intact soul is the best defense."
Just when Regulus thought there would be no answer, the Baron — for reasons perhaps only he knew — finally spoke.
"But if what you're asking about is a soul already wounded, then... solidification may be one thod.
Active stabilization. Fixing the damaged part in place so that it stops fracturing further — like splinting a broken bone."
"How?" Regulus pressed. This was the crux. Ask one question, gain two answers.
Knowing how to protect also ant knowing how to destroy.
But the Baron shook his head. "I don't know. I am the failed case, not the success story. But if you truly wish to probe the secrets of the soul..."
He paused, seemingly deliberating. A long ti passed before he continued: "Hogwarts hides a place. A place containing clues left by Lady Ravenclaw.
About wisdom. About the soul. About the possibility of transcending life and death."
"The Room of Requirent? The Co and Go Room?" Regulus asked — in his mory, that was the place most closely linked to Lady Ravenclaw.
The Baron gave no direct answer. He spoke as if to himself: "When you are truly ready, the castle will open the way.
But for now... you are too young. Knowing too much is dangerous."
With that, the Bloody Baron dissolved entirely into shadow, leaving only a final whisper trailing through the air:
"Beware your thirst for knowledge, child of the Black family. It will take you to places — and into dangers — you never expected."
Regulus stood in the sa spot for a long while before turning away.
......
By the ti he returned to the Slytherin table, the show had ended and the feast had entered its free social period.
He had barely sat down when several upper-year students drifted over.
The first to speak was seventh-year Evan Rosier — Alex's distant cousin.
He held a goblet, a courteous smile on his face. "Regulus. Happy Halloween. Alex talks about you often. You've been quite influential among the lower years."
"Just doing what needs to be done." Regulus returned the pleasantry with social precision.
A sixth-year standing nearby gave a soft, dismissive laugh. Regulus recalled his na: Wilkes.
"Schoolyard amusents, nothing more. The real wizarding world is out there — and out there, no one cares about your grades."
Wilkes's tone dripped with condescension. Several mbers of his family already held key posts at the Ministry; he clearly considered school achievents beneath notice.
People like that weren't worth wasting breath on. Regulus chose to ignore him.
The third to approach was seventh-year Alecto Carrow, who was considerably more blunt.
"My brother Amycus admires the way you handled Travers. He says when you co in for a Ministry internship, he can introduce you to so like-minded people."
Regulus understood her aning. The Carrow siblings were already avowed Voldemort supporters.
"Thank you," he replied — voice betraying nothing, yet offering a positive response. "I look forward to it."
Alecto raised an eyebrow, said nothing more, and turned away.
Wilkes followed, evidently uninterested in Regulus.
Regulus looked toward the Gryffindor table. Sirius was staring in his direction, his face dark.
Jas leaned in at Sirius's ear, whispering, pointing toward the Slytherin table as he did.
Lily sat not far from them. She, too, had noticed the upper-year Slytherins seeking Regulus out.
She stared down at her plate, brow creasing.
During their last conversation, Regulus had touched on the situation outside. Lily understood what it ant.
"See?" Jas's voice carried — he was clearly raising it on purpose. "The trainee Death Eaters are already recruiting him. If you ask , he won't even wait till graduation to join—"
"Potter!" Lily's head snapped up, voice sharp.
"What? I'm stating facts!" Jas bristled, chin raised, shouting back at her.
"Look at him! Textbook Slytherin! The people around him — their families have practically all joined that side. You think he won't?!"
Lily bit her lip. She wanted to argue, but the words wouldn't co. She knew: background decided too much.
The Black family already had Sirius openly opposing them. What about Regulus? How would he choose?
At the far end of the Slytherin table, Rabastan Lestrange was staring at Regulus.
His gaze was sullen and vicious. His fingers tapped the tabletop in a slow, nacing rhythm.
Sitting in a corner, Snape noted Rabastan's stare. His dark eyes narrowed slightly.
After the feast, Slytherin students drifted back to the dungeons in clusters.
Regulus walked with Avery and Hers. Alex trailed a few steps behind — wanting to close the gap yet hesitating.
"Lestrange's look." Hers sneered. "Who does he think he is? He can't even cast a proper silent spell. Riding his family na is all he's got."
Avery nodded. "He needs a lesson — so he knows who actually gets to speak in Slytherin."
Both looked to Regulus, awaiting his word.
Regulus had been mulling over the Baron's remarks about transcending life and death. Hearing them, he gave a slight nod. "Don't make it too big. Don't leave evidence."
That was permission.
Avery and Hers exchanged a glance and shared a knowing smile.
Alex hurried forward a few steps, hesitantly offering: "I... I could help, too."
No one responded. Avery shot him a glance over his shoulder, then turned back.
Hers didn't even look.
Back in the dormitory, Avery and Hers huddled at the far end, hashing out their plan for Rabastan in hushed voices — each revision more detailed, more vicious.
Regulus listened. He did not intervene.
The petty feuds at school were laughable to him. If he truly wanted soone dealt with, thods abounded.
A Potions "accident." Dark Magic. A curse. Even arranging an incident outside school grounds.
But at this stage, he needed followers like Avery and Hers. A joint operation against a shared enemy was the fastest way to build cohesion.
So he sanctioned it.
Rabastan Lestrange — a minor piece on the board.
The real concern lay beyond these walls.
Voldemort's sphere of influence was expanding. Father Orion's letters hinted that a considerable number at the Ministry had secretly defected.
Mother Walburga's letters urged him to cultivate the right connections — aning pure-blood children, ideally those likely to beco future Death Eaters.
'ditation cannot stop. Not for a single mont!'
......
The following morning. Charms. Professor Flitwick announced today's lesson: the Softening Charm.
"The incantation is 'Spongify'!" He stood atop a stack of books so the whole class could see. "Wand motion: a small clockwise circle, then a light upward flick — like so!"
He demonstrated once. One corner of the lectern instantly turned spongy; several students gasped.
"This spell temporarily softens hard objects," Flitwick explained, hopping off his book pile and beginning to circulate. "Commonly used for makeshift cushions, breaking falls, or... setting certain small traps."
Slytherin and Ravenclaw shared the class. Regulus noticed a Ravenclaw girl with curly brown hair who stood out — she nailed the charm on her first try, earning five points from Flitwick.
He raised his wand. "Spongify."
The stone block on his desk instantly beca a deep-grey, sponge-like mass. A finger pressed in left a dimple that slowly rebounded when released.
Slightly more polished than the Ravenclaw girl's result.
After class, Regulus headed for the library. Avery and Hers exchanged a look, then split up.
Alex wavered. He glanced at Regulus, saw no instructions forthcoming, and hurried after Avery.
Near the library entrance, Regulus ran into Snape.
"Black." Snape's voice was flat.
"Snape." Regulus's was flatter.
A brief silence. Then Snape spoke: "Last night at the feast. Lestrange was watching you for a long ti. Not friendly."
Regulus raised an eyebrow. Snape was volunteering intelligence.
A trifle, yes — but a promising start.
"He wasn't only watching ." Regulus's tone held no particular ripple.
"He watches anyone who might make the Lestrange na seem less important. Lestrange is like a food-guarding dog — barks loud, but bares its teeth before it bites."
With soone like Snape, overly polished language would only increase the distance. The goal was to make him feel this conversation wasn't quite so... "Black."
Snape's dark eyes glinted in the dim corridor light.
Regulus's voice softened a fraction. "Still — thanks. I'm not worried about him, but it's always good to know soone's watching your back."
He would never send Snape charging into battle. That would be an appalling waste. Beyond his outstanding Potions talent, Snape's gifts for observation and concealnt were exceptional.
The finest double agent in the wizarding world, bar none.
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