Narcissa's tone turned serious: "Bellatrix already knows. She will contact you soon—perhaps by letter, perhaps by coming to Hogwarts in person."
"She will test you, evaluate you, and then decide whether to recommend you to That Lord."
Regulus was silent for a few seconds.
"So, what's your advice?" he asked.
"Tone it down. At least in public, you can show your talent, but not to that extent."
"At Hogwarts, especially with a professor like Slughorn who loves collecting geniuses, your reputation will spread quickly."
"And if that reputation reaches the wrong ears, it will bring trouble—or opportunity—depending on your perspective."
*I've already toned it down,* Regulus thought to himself. *And this is precisely my goal. But it's still too early.*
Eleven is only suitable for being observed. Even Lord Voldemort wouldn't have an eleven-year-old child do anything. He's not an African warlord who needs child soldiers.
Narcissa's tone softened a little: "I'm not saying this to lecture you. You're smarter than me, Regulus."
"I've known that since you were five. But smart people sometimes trust themselves too much and often ignore their surroundings."
Regulus nodded: "Thank you for the reminder, Cousin. But I have my own considerations."
"I knew you'd say that." Narcissa sighed. "All right, but remember, last night's business isn't over. Travers won't let it go just like that."
"He might not trouble you personally, but he'll send others. Upper-years, or his lackeys. That fits within Slytherin's rules."
"I'm ready for them anytime." Facing his relatively close cousin, Regulus's attitude became a bit more casual.
Narcissa looked at him for a long time, then suddenly smiled: "You know what?"
"Sometimes I think you and Sirius are actually quite alike. Not just in looks, but in that bone-deep, reckless streak. He just uses it for rebellion, and you use it elsewhere."
She turned to leave, but stopped: "One more thing. Lucius Malfoy is very interested in you—not *that* kind of interest."
"If he wants to meet you, remember to be polite and stay cautious."
Regulus nodded. *I know. Your fiancé.*
With that, she left quickly, her robe hem drawing an elegant arc on the stone floor.
Regulus turned and walked toward the next classroom: History of Magic, Professor Binns's class. That would be the easiest one today…
The Scottish Highlands sky on Friday was clear and washed clean.
On the training lawn for Flying Class, twenty broomsticks were neatly lined up, each old and twiggy—accumulated teaching tools from Hogwarts over the years.
Madam Hooch stood before the line, her grey short hair ruffled by the wind, eyes sharply scanning each student.
"All right, everyone stand to the left of your broom!" Her voice was loud and crisp: "Hold out your right hand over the broom, and say clearly, 'Up!'"
The students complied, and a ragged chorus of shouts rose from the lawn.
"Up!"
At the front of the Gryffindor line, a red-haired boy with a face full of freckles—probably a Weasley, seen at the Sorting—almost immediately made his broom jump into his palm, grinning smugly and eliciting low cheers from a few Gryffindors beside him.
On the Slytherin side, Avery Cuthbert's broom rolled half a circle on the ground before reluctantly rising. He clicked his tongue in annoyance.
Hermes Mulciber tried twice; on the second try, the broom jerked up violently, almost hitting his chin.
Regulus lowered his gaze, looking at the old Cleansweep by his feet.
"Up." His voice was steady, neither urging nor hesitant.
The broom trembled lightly on the ground, hesitated for a second, then fell into his open palm.
"Excellent!" Madam Hooch paced quickly between the two lines, inspecting.
"Mr. Weasley, quick reaction! Now everyone listen: when I count to three, you push off gently from the ground, let the broom rise to about a foot off the ground, and then hover."
"No higher than my shoulder! One… two… three!"
Chaos ensued as expected.
The sounds of broomsticks shooting up, girls' startled cries, and boys' low shouts of bravado mingled together.
At least four broomsticks lost control and shot upwards. One Gryffindor girl screamed, clinging tightly to her broom handle, saved by a timely slowing charm from Madam Hooch.
Regulus, however, hovered steadily exactly a foot off the ground, motionless.
His body was almost still, only the hem of his black robes fluttering rhythmically in the cold wind.
"Merlin's beard, look at that Slytherin…" In the Gryffindor line, a tall, thin boy named Benjy Fenwick whispered to his companion: "He's as steady as if he's glued to the sky."
Not far away, a brown-haired Gryffindor girl, Sarah Bones, also noticed the anomaly.
Her own hovering was quite good, with slight swaying and bobbing, as if drifting with the wind.
But Regulus's kind of steadiness was something else entirely. No extraneous movement, every shift in balance precise as if he already knew the broom's every reaction a second ahead.
"Eyes forward, don't look down!" Madam Hooch shouted, pointing her wand repeatedly to straighten out several students who had started to spin.
"Now, try to move forward slowly!" Madam Hooch demonstrated a gentle push-and-press motion: "Feel the broom's response, treat it like a living partner!"
The lines began to move clumsily; most first-years' trajectories were crooked, their speeds erratic.
Regulus glided forward about fifteen feet, speed constant, path straight, then turned left as instructed.
"Hmph, putting on airs!" In the Gryffindor line, a dark-haired, thick-browed, stocky boy muttered discontentedly.
His broom was disobediently drawing arcs left and right, forming a stark contrast to Regulus's composure.
"He really does have better broom control, Alphard," the girl next to him said matter-of-factly.
"Good as a block of wood!" Alphard raised his voice, deliberately letting the wind carry his words toward the Slytherin line: "Not moving a muscle, scared of falling off, it seems! Flying requires nerve!"
A few Gryffindors chuckled quietly.
On the Slytherin side, Avery Cuthbert frowned tightly, Hermes Mulciber shot Alphard a dark glance, and Alex Rosier looked at Regulus with concern.
Regulus acted as if he hadn't heard.
Alphard Prewett's face grew even uglier.
As the class progressed into the latter half, Madam Hooch let the students practice basic control freely while she went to instruct a few particularly struggling students. The training ground instantly scattered into over a dozen small groups.
Alphard deliberately maneuvered his broom to hover near the Slytherin area, his two friends flanking him.
"So, Black," Alphard hovered a few feet from Regulus: "Does your family specifically train how to ride a broom like a statue? Gotta maintain that noble image, after all."
Avery immediately drove his broom forward: "Watch your mouth, Prewett."
"I'm talking to Black, Cuthbert," Alphard challenged, tilting his chin up: "Or does he need others to speak for him?"
Regulus slowly turned his head, his grey eyes calmly looking at Alphard.
"Prewett," his voice wasn't loud: "What are you trying to prove? Gryffindor courage? Or Prewett upbringing?"
"A Slytherin whelp talking to me about upbringing?" Alphard's voice rose with anger.
Regulus just looked at him quietly until his face flushed red, then slowly spoke: "Do you have any?"
Alphard was provoked. He knew if he didn't do something, he'd become a laughingstock.
He abruptly drew his wand. His two friends, Colin Macmillan and Gareth Diggory, immediately followed suit, wands pointing toward the Slytherin side.
"Want a fight?" Avery Cuthbert drew his wand almost simultaneously, his face a mix of wariness and a hint of excitement.
Hermes Mulciber, face dark, slid his wand into his hand, wordlessly driving his broom forward half a step to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Avery.
Alex Rosier paled, hesitated, then shakily raised his wand as well, though clearly aiming at empty ground.
Alphard shouted: "Expelliarmus!"
Regulus pointed his wand: "Expelliarmus."
His spell was faster, more focused, launched later but arriving first. Two red beams collided precisely in mid-air, exploding into a shower of sparks.
The Disarming Charms collided and canceled each other out.
"What?!" Not just Alphard, the surrounding students were stunned.
*The Disarming Charm can be used like that?*
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