In the spring of 1965, in the garden of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, the Beech Trees were just sprouting Tender Green buds.
"Regulus!"
Sirius rushed out of the house, waving a Toy Sword in his hand.
"Look! I can make the sword glow!" Sirius focused, and a faint Silver Lightappeared at the tip of the sword, lasting only two seconds before extinguishing.
He was five years old; his Magic Control had improved but was still unstable.
"Not bad." Regulus closed his book, giving a serious but perfunctory reply.
Sirius plunged the sword into the dirt: "Let's go explore the Basement! Kreacher says there are Biting Boxes down there!"
"I'm reading." Regulus shook his head and refused.
"What's so interesting about a book?" Sirius leaned closer and glanced at the Illustrated Guide: "It's all fake, real Dragons are much bigger than this! Cousin Bella says That Great Personage has a Dragon as a pet!"
Regulus looked up and asked, "Which Great Personage?"
"That one!" Sirius lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret: "Bella says he's gathering Followers to restore the Glory of the Pure-bloods, and Dad says he's a Dangerous Element."
Regulus's heart skipped a beat. Lord Voldemort, Tom Riddle—was he starting already?
He quickly calculated the Timeline. In the original work, Lord Voldemort's first rise was in the early 1970s, but the preliminary recruitment and planning must have started earlier.
1965... He must already be operating in secret, using the slogan of Pure-blood Revival to attract the support of Ancient Families.
"What else did Bella say?" Regulus asked.
"She said that Great Personage has Powerful Magic that lets people see Miracles." Sirius sat down on the Stone Bench.
"Regulus, what are you thinking about?" Seeing him silent, Sirius poked his younger brother's shoulder.
"I'm thinking..." Regulus looked at the book in his hand: "Knowledge Is Power, so That Great Personage must have read many books."
"No way! He's Naturally Powerful!" Sirius refuted him excitedly.
Naive, Regulus thought. All power has a source. Lord Voldemort's Magical Talent, Horcrux Research, and Dark Arts knowledge were all gained from books, experiments, and Plunder.
A Sense of Urgency suddenly hit him. Regulus realized that time was running out.
Once Lord Voldemort fully rose, all Pure-blood families would be drawn in.
As one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the Black Family would inevitably have to choose a side. In the original work, most Black members joined the Death Eaters, except for Sirius and Andromeda.
And he himself, Regulus Black, would inevitably fall under Lord Voldemort's scrutiny, especially if he displayed Unusual Talent—which he couldn't afford not to display.
He had to start preparing now.
That afternoon, Regulus, carrying three finished Children's Picture Books, knocked on Orion's Study door.
"Come in."
Orion was sitting behind a massive Mahogany Desk, reviewing Wizengamot documents. He looked up, surprised to see his youngest son: "Regulus? What is it?"
"Father," Regulus placed the picture books on the corner of the desk, "I've finished these. I want to read real books."
Orion put down his Quill and asked, "Real books?"
"Books with words, with knowledge, and with magic."
Walburga happened to walk in to deliver tea and stopped when she heard this: "He's only four! Orion, don't spoil him. He should first Study the 'Pure-blood Family Etiquette Manual' and learn how to uphold the Family's Honor."
"Honor requires strength to support it," Regulus said calmly but with absolute conviction. "If I am not strong enough, how can I uphold the Black Family's status?"
Walburga was stunned. Coming from a four-year-old child, the words felt somewhat strange and unsettling.
Orion nodded, agreeing with Regulus: "Starting tomorrow, you may spend one hour a day in the Library. Kreacher will accompany you."
"Yes, Father." Having said that, Regulus left the Study.
He showed no excitement or joy; this was merely what was due. There was no reason for a request to Study to be refused by his parents.
Walburga tried to speak, but Orion raised a hand to stop her: "Walburga, our son needs a Special Education. Times are changing. That Great Personage is gathering strength, and the Black Family needs more than just an Heir who understands etiquette."
"You know about That Lord too..." Walburga's expression grew somewhat excited as she thought of the person's rising influence.
"The entire British Wizarding World knows," Orion's voice was heavy. "He is recruiting Supporters, Tempting Followers with power, and coercing enemies with Fear. The Lestrange family has already sided with him, the Malfoy Family is watching, and the Black Family will have to make a choice sooner or later."
The next day at ten o'clock sharp, Kreacher led Regulus to the Double Wooden Doors at the end of the third floor.
The doors were deep Black Oak, inlaid with silver Constellation Patterns. They had no handles, only two symmetrical Keyholes shaped like two open Raven Beaks.
"It requires two keys turned simultaneously, Young Master." Kreacherpulled two Antique Keys from his apron pocket: one silver-white, with the Sun carved on the handle; the other jet-Black, with the Moon carved on the handle.
The keys were inserted and turned simultaneously.
Click.
The doors slid inward without making a sound.
Regulus's first feeling upon stepping into the Library was Oppression; the Density of Magic here was astonishingly high.
Visible Silver Light Dust floated in the air. The bookshelves extended from the floor to the ten-meter-high ceiling, requiring a Moving Ladder to retrieve the upper books; magic wouldn't work.
The edges of every bookshelf were carved with different Magical Creatures. The bottom layer featured Goblins and Fairies, the middle layer Centaurs and Merpeople, and the top layer Gryphons and Dragons.
In the center of the room was a giant Orrery, a complex Brass mechanism simulating the movement of the Solar System, but with a few extra Celestial Bodies known only to Wizards.
"The Open Section is on the left, Young Master," Kreacher whispered, as if afraid of waking something. "The right side is the Family Heritage Section, which requires the Master's permission. Directly ahead is the Restricted Section; do not approach it."
Regulus walked toward the Open Section first.
He pulled out a Pure-blood Family Genealogy and quickly scanned it, realizing that these families—Malfoy, Lestrange, Nott, Carrow...—were all future mainstays of the Death Eaters.
Once these families collectively sided with Lord Voldemort, half the power and resources of the British Wizarding World would fall into his hands, and these families were bound to side with Lord Voldemort.
He must acquire power before that happens.
An hour later, Regulus walked toward the Family Heritage Section.
The bookshelves here were deep red mahogany, and every book had an independent Magical Protective Shield. Kreacher nervously followed close by: "Young Master, this requires permission..."
"I'm just looking at the titles."
Then, he looked straight ahead, toward the Restricted Section.
There were no bookshelves there, but a solid Black Iron Wall embedded in a Stone Archway. In the center of the wall was a Barred Gate, the iron bars as thick as a baby's arm. Through the gaps, he could see the deep darkness beyond.
The lock on the gate was a Bronze Skull with a movable jawbone, and the keyhole was in the skull's left eye socket.
Squinting through the gaps in the bars, Regulus looked into the deep darkness. Bookshelves were faintly visible, and the Gilded Titles on the spines shimmered in the gloom:
*The Darkest Arts: Origins and Advancement of the Unforgivable Curses*
*Blood Curse Studies: Bloodline Magic and Eternal Binding*
*Necromantic Communication: Forbidden Rituals for Conversing with the Other Side*
Every book title struck Regulus's heart like a Heavy Hammer.
Lord Voldemort must have read these, and even more. Horcruxes, Dark Arts, Soul Experiments... how much has he mastered?
I must understand, at least, what Methods he is using.
But he couldn't go in now; the timing was wrong, and his Clearance was insufficient.
He turned around and said to Kreacher, "Time's up. Let's go."
Before leaving, Regulus took one last look at the Restricted Section... Returning to his own room, Regulus walked to the window and looked at the street outside.
It was night in London. Muggle cars came and went, their red and yellow headlights densely woven together. There was already severe Urban Light Pollution, making the true Starry Sky invisible.
But Regulus knew the Starry Sky was still there.
The war instigated by Lord Voldemort, the Power Games of the Wizarding world, the glory and madness of the Pure-blood families—all of it was as minuscule as Dust on a Cosmic Scale.
But Regulus was currently trapped within this Dust.
He looked out the window, imagining the man who might currently be studying Dark Arts in the Albanian Forests or some Ancient Ruin: Tom Riddle, the future Lord Voldemort.
Time was running out.