Regulus Black returned to the old house at 12 Grimmauld Place, carrying the child and a coffin.
"Master! We pledge our eternal loyalty to you and to the House of Black!"
As soon as he entered, the two fallen ones he had previously taken in appeared at the door. Dressed in servant uniforms, they expressed their loyalty with utmost respect.
Previously, they had been imprisoned in the "White Bone Cage." Unless they truly acknowledged Regulus Black as their master from the depths of their hearts, there was no way for them to be released. Only after they had mentally submitted would the "White Bone Cage" open on its own, and Kreacher would then teach them how to become proper servants—or rather, slave wizards.
"Katie Raven."
Regulus Black glanced sideways at the witch servant while holding the child.
"Yes, Master. I await your command," Katie responded nervously, unsure if she had made a mistake when her master had just returned.
"From now on, you'll be responsible for taking care of the child. There's enough milk in the house. If you need anything else, speak to Kreacher. I've left ten thousand pounds for household expenses—buy whatever the child needs. If you don't know how to raise a child, go to the bookstore and buy relevant books. Kreacher will assist you. Remember, the child's name is Jupiter Black, and he is a legitimate member of the Black family."
Regulus handed Jupiter over to her—after all, he had many matters to attend to and could only entrust someone else with raising the child.
"Yes, Master. I'll be careful. This child belongs to the House of Black and is also my little master."
Katie carefully took the baby in her arms. Though she had never borne children herself, her natural maternal instinct made her fond of the child.
The baby hadn't fully opened his eyes yet. He was sleepily rubbing his face with tiny hands and yawning from time to time.
Katie couldn't help but wonder if this child was biologically the family head's. But since the child bore the Black name, it didn't matter whether he was or not. Her only responsibility was to take good care of him.
"Jacob! Take the coffin down to the basement for safekeeping. I'll deal with it when I return."
Regulus instructed Jacob Jones to handle it, as he had already seen an owl approaching. He suspected he would soon have to leave again.
The Ministry owl brought a letter from Minister Fudge, written in an exceedingly polite tone.
"Mr. Regulus Black,The Ministry of Magic is currently facing a rather awkward situation. We believe that with your involvement, the matter could be swiftly resolved. It requires a face-to-face discussion to go over the specifics. Please come to the Ministry at your earliest convenience.—Respectfully, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic"
Holding Fudge's handwritten letter, Regulus speculated about what this meeting might involve.
Although the minister's tone was courteous, as if he were available anytime, it was clearly just a formality. The real intention was to meet as soon as possible. If Regulus delayed the meeting for several days, it would deeply offend the minister—something entirely unnecessary.
Upon returning to the Ministry of Magic, Regulus was admitted easily this time. Unlike his previous visit, which involved lengthy procedures, the secretary let him in directly.
"Minister, I came as soon as I received your letter. What awkward matter requires my attention?"
Standing in front of Fudge's desk, Regulus looked down at him. Sit down? Sure—but if he were to sit, it would be in the reception area. The seat in front of Fudge's desk? He wasn't one of his subordinates.
Being looked down upon like that by Regulus made Fudge uncomfortable. Awkwardly, he stood up, and the two of them moved to the sofas in the reception area to sit.
"Well, I'll get straight to the point. The matter concerns Bellatrix Lestrange's pregnancy. The Ministry has been under immense public pressure. The Daily Prophet has been relentlessly pursuing this story. The Aurors guarding Azkaban have been treated as suspects for over half a year now. If their names can't be cleared, not only their reputations but the Ministry's as a whole will suffer."
At this moment, Fudge practically sounded like he was begging. Regulus made it clear—this had nothing to do with him.
"Stop. Agree to a few conditions, and I'll take responsibility for the matter."
Regulus really didn't want to see Fudge act this way—after all, the man was still the Minister for Magic.
"Are you saying you actually did it?"
Fudge wiped at imaginary tears on his face, asking Regulus Black excitedly, as if witnessing a criminal confess.
So this was Fudge trying to catch him with some kind of leverage? Regulus raised his brows slightly.
"I think you've misunderstood something. It was because the Ministry of Magic was incapable of handling this matter that you came to me for help, wasn't it? If the Ministry only wanted someone to take the fall, then you could've just picked a volunteer from among the Azkaban guards."
At Regulus Black's words, Fudge's face immediately darkened. The Aurors had already been at odds with him over this matter for quite some time. If he forced them to hand over a scapegoat from Azkaban's guards, his term as Minister would effectively be over.
"Don't take it the wrong way. I've just been driven nearly mad by this whole situation, so I may have said something rash."
Fudge forced an awkward smile, his lowered gaze and submissive demeanor making him look like a eunuch. Yes—very much like one.
A Minister of Magic stripped of real power by various factions—how could he not resemble a eunuch?
"Since the Ministry is unable to resolve the issue of a witch becoming pregnant while imprisoned in Azkaban, I will step forward to provide an explanation. One that's as reasonable as possible. But there are some conditions."
Regulus raised his hand and began counting off on his fingers.
"First, the Ministry must not take the fall for this incident—but I won't take the fall either. Second, no one should be blamed for it. This is a special case, an isolated event that happened by chance. Third, the Ministry must come up with a plausible explanation for any similar cases that may arise in the future. After all, no one can guarantee it won't happen again. People will just have to get used to it."
Lowering his hand, Regulus thought for a moment before adding:
"My public explanation will be based on the actual truth. I hope those curious individuals will refrain from disturbing my life because of it."
Minister Fudge, seated across from him, was visibly surprised. He had expected Regulus Black to shift all the blame onto the Ministry, putting them in an extremely passive position. He hadn't expected him to offer three preconditions that actually gave the Ministry a way out.
What a generous man! Fudge almost wanted to kiss him in gratitude—but Regulus's cold stare immediately killed that impulse.
"Well then, before I provide the Ministry with an explanation for the witch pregnancy incident, let's talk terms."
Regulus picked up the black tea from the coffee table and poured a cup for both himself and Fudge.
He had to admit—the hospitality afforded to Ministry officials was top-tier. Even the tea was of exquisite quality, fragrant and rich in flavor.
"State any conditions you have. As long as it's within the Ministry's capability, I'll see to it."
Fudge had calmed down by now. He knew that this part—negotiating terms—couldn't be taken lightly. If he agreed to something the Ministry couldn't fulfill, it would be like escaping one trap only to walk into another.
"Bellatrix Lestrange's child will be a member of the Black family. So I want the Ministry to downplay any details regarding the child's birth. I don't want the child growing up under the weight of public scrutiny."
"Of course, of course—that's perfectly reasonable. All for the child's sake!"
"My brother, Sirius Black—I want to take the child to see him. And I want the Wizengamot to reexamine his case. I believe he's innocent. He only accepted the blame for betraying the Potters and killing Muggles out of some foolish, inexplicable sense of responsibility."
"A visit is no problem—go whenever you like, as many times as you want. As for reopening his case, I'll arrange for the legal proceedings to begin right away. The hearing can be initiated within a week. But I can't guarantee the outcome."
"If you can't guarantee the result, then let's keep the retrial confidential. If we can't prove his innocence, just leave that stupid mutt locked up."
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