"Everyone! I still have class. If there's anything, you can contact me by letter. Farewell!"
With that, Regulus Black ended his statement. The press conference had long since turned into a networking event driven by interests, and staying any longer was pointless. Those who had needs would eventually come to him on their own.
Before the crowd could react, Regulus Black had already left the venue. He returned to Hogwarts via the Ministry of Magic's Floo Network. He had left in such a rush earlier that he hadn't even informed Dumbledore.
Back at Hogwarts, most students were in class. Regulus walked through the long corridors and slowly made his way up to the eighth floor.
"Honey lemon tea!"
With the password spoken, the spiral staircase appeared automatically. Regulus stepped onto the highest stair and arrived at the Headmaster's office.
"Headmaster!"
He called out as soon as he entered, but there was no response—Dumbledore was clearly not back yet.
At the press conference earlier, Regulus had seen Dumbledore—though he was seated way in the back, the one-eyed, scarred man in front of him was very noticeable.
"Hey, kid! Your business really gives Dumbledore a hard time. Every time something happens with you, he has to personally intervene. Hahaha! Not bad at all."
The voice came from a wizard's portrait, featuring a man with a goatee and narrow eyebrows. He winked at Regulus.
This was Phineas Black, an elder of the Black family—Regulus and Sirius's great-great-grandfather.
He had once served as the Head of Slytherin House and later became the Headmaster of Hogwarts, though he was considered one of the most unpopular headmasters in the school's history. A feudal, stubborn, and somewhat cunning old man, he detested self-righteous youth. Compared to Dumbledore, he appeared far less wise.
"Great-great-grandfather, I believe you've seen Jupiter. What do you think of the child?"
Regulus often chatted with the portraits in the old manor, trying to glean valuable insights from their experiences.
Phineas had portraits in both 12 Grimmauld Place and the Hogwarts Headmaster's office, allowing him to move freely between them.
"Oh! That little darling is absolutely adorable—so very beautiful. Just as beautiful as Bellatrix was when she was a child."
The mention of Jupiter Black—the youngest current member of the Black family—made the long-deceased Phineas visibly emotional. Not long ago, the Black family had suffered great losses—many had died or been imprisoned. Thankfully, Regulus Black had returned, and within the year, Bellatrix had given birth to Jupiter Black.
This allowed the Black lineage to continue rather than perish entirely. Phineas was very pleased with Regulus, who, as the current head of the family, showed great promise in restoring the Black family's honor.
"If you like little Jupiter so much, then why not help expedite the Ministry's process of returning the Black family assets—especially the chocolate factory? I haven't even been able to submit an application for that one yet. That's right—not even an application."
Regulus knew that Phineas, even in his portrait, had a good relationship with Cornelius Fudge.
"For the sake of Jupiter, gifting her a chocolate factory would be the most fitting present. I'll leave the negotiations with Fudge to you, Phineas!"
Regulus had already set the plan in motion. Now it depended on how strong Phineas's rapport with Minister Fudge was.
Among the Black family's former assets, the chocolate factory was one of the most valuable.
Wizards couldn't casually prepare food because of their magical nature. Many plants that were ordinary ingredients to Muggles were potent potion materials in the wizarding world. So for a wizard who aspired to be a chef, it was often a recipe for disaster. Who knew what might jump out of the cauldron? Even many magical creatures were said to have emerged from misfired cooking attempts.
Thus, cooking required the use of magic-resistant utensils. But even then, the food made by wizards couldn't compare to that made by house-elves. Since the food wasn't tasty, wizards stopped cooking—and the cycle continued, becoming a vicious loop.
A stable factory capable of producing chocolate—a factory that could manufacture various wizarding world–exclusive chocolates—meant only one thing in the wizarding world: a goldmine, a never-ending goldmine.
Just look at the sweet shops, ice cream parlors, cafés, and restaurants in Diagon Alley—they're the most profitable businesses around.
That's why, after the chocolate factory was sealed by the Ministry of Magic, not even the other relatives of the Black family were able to take it over.
"Leave this matter to me. Cornelius and I have been old friends for many years."
The old man in the portrait winked again, stroked his goatee, and disappeared from the frame.
Regulus Black knew that after the Black family was left without anyone, Phineas had taken a particular liking to Severus Snape, who was also a Head of Slytherin.
While Phineas hadn't been a particularly competent headmaster during his lifetime, his portrait in the original books had provided Dumbledore, Harry, Hermione, and Ron with considerable help. He gave Harry lots of information, although he constantly tried to report Harry's whereabouts to Snape.
Snape had seen Harry as his own child, and Phineas regarded Snape as a grandson-like figure.
However, now that Regulus Black was back, Phineas's attention and care naturally returned to his own bloodline—especially one from the direct line of the Black family.
"Regulus! Looks like you've already found Phineas a job—and quite a challenging one at that."
Dumbledore had returned to Hogwarts and had overheard the conversation between Regulus and Phineas.
Regulus Black smiled with satisfaction.
"Originally, it was just me. As long as I had enough to eat and wear, that was enough. Reclaiming the Black family estate was just a responsibility."
He pulled out a chair and sat down, beginning to flip through Dumbledore's stash of sweets.
"But now that there's a child, I must take a more active role in planning for her future. If I can't recover certain things in my generation, then it'll be even harder—or even hopeless—for the next generation."
"Honey lemon tea!"
As Dumbledore spoke, a large pot of honey lemon tea appeared on the coffee table. Regulus took it, conjured two large cups, chilled the tea, and poured generous servings for both of them. Just like in Snape's office, they drank quietly, saying and thinking nothing.
"Can you tell me how the witch got pregnant this time?"
Dumbledore, seeing how calm and composed Regulus was, drank a large cup of iced honey lemon tea with him. As an old man, he did enjoy sweets—but such a huge glass of iced tea was wreaking havoc in his stomach. It made him urgently need to relieve himself, but that room with all the fine chamber pots was now gone.
Because the Room of Requirement was currently occupied—by Regulus Black!
"It's actually quite simple. It was just a curse—a curse that foretells the birth of a child, while ensuring that the mother herself won't live to witness it."
Regulus set down his now-empty cup. He hadn't even taken a sip back during his speech at the Ministry.
"That simple? Just a curse can cause a witch to become pregnant?"
Dumbledore was incredulous. Wizards had long pursued the development of new spells. Curses, while technically a type of spell, belonged to the category of dark magic. They were primarily intended to harm others. Who would have thought one could be used to make a witch conceive?
If spell innovation were really that simple, the Ministry wouldn't need a Spell Research Committee.
"I know it's hard to believe—but that's really all there is to it. A pregnant woman, after carrying the child for several months, is cursed to never see the child's birth. The moment the child is born is the moment she dies. It's a tragic outcome from a human perspective—and precisely because it fulfills the dark and cruel nature of a curse, it works."
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