Chapter 279 — Physical Examination
The room was dimly lit, its silence broken only by the faint rustle of sheets.
On the large, ornate bed lay a man with pale, marble-white skin. His upper body was bare, his eyes wide open, and every so often, his chest trembled slightly under the touch of a pair of aged, slender hands.
The man wanted to resist, but a single look from the other figure standing beside the bed — one whose features closely resembled his own — kept him still.
"Dumbledore… should I light the candle?" Sirius finally muttered, his tone uncertain. He pulled out his wand and pointed toward the candle mounted on the wall.
He had a feeling that if the lights were on, Dumbledore might stop looking quite so—
improper.
"No," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Regulus's condition stabilizes better in the dark. I need to observe a little longer."
And yet, his hands didn't stop moving.
Sirius's expression twisted. Part of him wanted to hex Dumbledore straight across the room.
He respected the Headmaster deeply — but seeing the old wizard's hands wandering across his brother's torso was… pushing it.
He told himself that Dumbledore's methods were sound. A wizard of his caliber didn't need a wand to sense magic.
In peaceful settings, it was more accurate to feel the flow of magic through touch and observation.
Only amateurs caused explosions and smoke whenever they cast detection spells.
Even so, Sirius couldn't help feeling like he was standing by, watching his brother being groped by a centenarian.
The hand gripping his wand turned white, his jaw tense, and his eyes blazed with discomfort.
At last, Dumbledore straightened up and said mildly, "All right. I've finished my examination."
"Really?!" Sirius immediately pulled his brother's robe back over his shoulders, his relief almost palpable.
"Is he—Is he okay?" he asked breathlessly.
"All our worries were unnecessary," Dumbledore replied with a rare smile. He didn't leave Sirius hanging this time.
"That's great!" Sirius cried, pulling Regulus into a tight hug. "You're fine, Reg!"
Regulus, still dazed and confused, smiled back softly, as if he barely understood what was happening.
"But…" Dumbledore's voice trailed off. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
Sirius froze. "But what?"
If he could've seen Dumbledore's expression, he probably wouldn't have been so alarmed — but the suspense was killing him.
"There's one small concern," Dumbledore said at last, the half-smile on his face forming a faint checkmark shape.
"What concern?!" Sirius demanded, his voice suddenly low and tight.
Dumbledore folded his hands behind his back. "You don't need to worry about your brother leaving you anymore," he said.
"Instead, it may be Regulus who has to worry about losing you."
Sirius blinked, confused. "So… Regulus will live a long life?"
"At first, yes—" Sirius brightened, but then his expression darkened. "Wait… if that's true, then what happens when I'm old? What will he do when I'm a hundred?"
He began pacing, muttering to himself. "Maybe Kreacher should… have a child."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"Yes! That's it!" Sirius said with sudden inspiration. "When a house-elf grows old, they take time to have children to continue their service! I remember reading that somewhere!"
He nodded rapidly, clearly convincing himself. "So if Kreacher has kids, Regulus will be taken care of. No problem at all."
Down in the kitchen, Kreacher sneezed violently without knowing why.
"Sirius," Dumbledore interrupted gently, "is there a possibility that Regulus could learn to live independently—without relying on an elf?"
But Sirius wasn't listening. His thoughts were racing through family inheritances, magical contracts, and which Black properties could safely be handed over to Regulus.
Dumbledore sighed.
"Sirius," he said firmly, "Regulus has lost his memories, yes, but he hasn't become a fool. He's like a child right now—he just needs time to learn and grow. With patience, he'll recover his strength and magic."
"Really?" Sirius's eyes widened hopefully. "So he'll grow up again, little by little?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Even though he's been an Inferius for over ten years, his mind and body can recover. Slowly—but surely."
Sirius turned to his brother, who smiled at him blankly, his expression pure and childlike.
"…Could it be that when I died, Regulus had just learned to talk?" Sirius muttered to himself.
Then, with a dark glint in his eye, he added, "Maybe I should learn to make a Horcrux… just in case."
Dumbledore stared at him, utterly speechless.
"Oh, come on, I wouldn't really—well, maybe I would," Sirius said with a grin. "When Voldemort returns, I can just grab one of his Death Eaters and—problem solved! Wahaha!"
Dumbledore rubbed his temple. Why did I ever let this man join the Order of the Phoenix…?
Still laughing, Sirius hugged Regulus again. "Reg! You've been surrounded by Inferi all these years! No wonder you forgot how to speak!"
He laughed until tears filled his eyes.
Somewhere in the chaos, Regulus's robe slipped off again.
Just then, the door creaked open.
"Sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt!" Ron's voice blurted out — followed by Harry, Draco, and Lupin peeking through the gap.
Ron had only wanted to announce dinner. But one glance at the scene — the dim light, Dumbledore's position, the fallen robe, the flushed faces — and he slammed the door shut immediately.
"Uh, it's dinner time!" Harry called awkwardly from outside.
"Maybe you should, um, take a shower first," Draco added dryly.
Lupin's voice followed, calm but weary. "Sirius… perhaps you should find another room."
The group exchanged glances, each face painted with uncomfortable suspicion.
Reason told them Dumbledore was just performing a medical check.
But with the messy sheets, dim lighting, and the Headmaster's old rumors… it was hard not to think otherwise.
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(End of Chapter 279)
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