Spring, 1966. Regulus was five years old.
Five years old in the Black family meant the beginning of formal education.
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at three in the afternoon, Walburga would conduct lessons on family glory in the small study.
On the wall hung a massive Black family tapestry, draping from ceiling to floor. Gold and silver threads embroidered a thousand-year network of marriages on the dark fabric background.
Monday: Genealogy.
"Look here," Walburga pointed to the top of the tapestry with a slender ebony pointer. "Linfred Black, a twelfth-century healer, the recognized founder of our family..."
Regulus sat on a hardwood chair, hands on his knees, his gaze following the pointer.
"Regulus, repeat what I just said." Walburga's voice pulled him back.
"From 1578 to 1623, the Black family intermarried with the Rosier family four times and the Fawley family three times, interspersed with marriages to the Crouches and Travers, forming a stable structure," Regulus answered fluently.
Walburga nodded with satisfaction and turned to Sirius. "And you?"
Sirius squirmed in his chair. "Who can remember all that? They're just names of dead people!"
"They are your ancestors!"
"Dead is dead," Sirius muttered.
Walburga's face darkened, and she was about to explode when Regulus interrupted in time. "Mother, I have a question."
"Speak."
"Why is it that after the fourteenth century, we only intermarried with the Sacred Twenty-Eight families?" Regulus pointed to the earlier parts of the tapestry. "It shows here that between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries, the Black family intermarried with the Prewetts, Macmillans, and even the Bones family, but then it stopped."
Walburga's expression stiffened slightly. "Because those families degenerated."
"How did they degenerate?"
"They began to accept Muggle-borns and even intermarried with Muggles," Walburga's voice became stern. " The bloodline was polluted. The Black family must remain pure; this is our responsibility."
"But the Prewett family is still on the list of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," Regulus pointed out.
"That was a compromise! The Ministry's stupid list!" Walburga tapped the tapestry with her pointer, causing several portraits to shrink back in fear. "True pure-blood families are becoming fewer and fewer. We are the last lighthouse in a defiled world."
Extremely narrow-minded, but understandable. In a world where magic is a hereditary ability, bloodlines do have significance, but attributing everything to bloodlines was far too simplistic.
Regulus glanced at Sirius, knowing he was destined not to accept this theory. That was fine.
A thought suddenly popped up: perhaps it would be better for Sirius to leave the Black family.
This thought stunned Regulus himself for a moment, but upon careful consideration, the logic held up completely.
The Black family would eventually side with Voldemort, except for Sirius and Andromeda.
If Sirius was destined to resist, then leaving early and joining the opposing camp as soon as possible might give him a better chance of survival in the coming war.
As for himself, Regulus Black, this identity was destined to be swept into the darkness.
He needed the Black family's resources, the pure-blood status, and access to the core of the Death Eaters to acquire knowledge.
He and Sirius were on two paths that would sooner or later oppose each other.
Wednesday: Blood Supremacy.
"Muggles are defective creatures," Walburga paced in the study, a habit of hers when she was emotional. "They have no magic, like birds without wings or fish without gills. They are failures of evolution."
Sirius raised his hand. This was something Regulus had taught him: raise your hand when Mother asks questions during lectures to avoid direct confrontation.
"Speak."
"But Muggles can build airplanes," Sirius said. "Airplanes can fly. They can fly without wings."
Walburga sneered. "Clumsy imitations. Using metal and fuel, noisy as death, polluting the air. Wizarding broomsticks are elegant, quiet, and environmentally friendly."
"But airplanes can fly higher, faster, and carry more people," Regulus added calmly.
The room fell silent. Walburga stared at her second son. "Are you defending Muggles?"
"I am stating facts," Regulus said. "Mother, if we are truly superior to Muggles, we should surpass them in every aspect.
If we can only comfort ourselves by saying magic is more elegant, while they surpass us in speed, load capacity, and altitude, then who is truly superior?"
Sirius gasped, waiting for his mother to explode.
But Walburga didn't explode. She stood there stunned, her lips moving, but no words came out.
Regulus continued, "Perhaps the question isn't who is superior, but what we choose to develop. Muggles develop technology; we develop magic.
But if we stand still and only guard our traditions while Muggle technology advances constantly, one day the gap will be too big to ignore."
"The Ministry has the Statute of Secrecy..." Walburga's tone weakened slightly.
"The Statute of Secrecy is built on the premise that Muggles won't find out," Regulus said. "But what if one day, Muggle technology can detect magic?
What if they invent instruments that can see through Disillusionment Charms? If we are still arguing about blood purity while they can already break Muggle-Repelling Charms, what then?"
Walburga was silent for a long time before finally saying, "That is all for today."
She left in a hurry.
Sirius leaned over and whispered, "You scared her."
"Maybe," Regulus jumped off the hardwood chair. "But someone has to speak the truth."
"Why did you speak up for Muggles?" Sirius asked curiously.
"I wasn't speaking up for Muggles," Regulus looked at him. "I just hate lies. If we are truly strong, we don't need to belittle others to prove it."
Sirius nodded, seeming to understand but not fully grasping it.
...
At dinner, Walburga spoke about the latest news she had heard at the table. "The Nott family's daughter actually wants to marry a Mudblood! Mr. Nott was so angry he locked her in the tower. They say she's being sent to a convent in France for the rest of her life."
Sirius was cutting his steak, but his knife and fork stopped upon hearing this.
"Why?" he asked. "She likes that person, doesn't she?"
"Likes?" Walburga looked as if she had heard the most ridiculous word. "Can 'like' put food on the table? Can 'like' maintain blood purity? She has lost her mind!"
"But if two people like each other—"
"Shut up!" Walburga's voice became shrill. "Sirius, how many times have I warned you? Do not pollute your brain with those filthy Muggle thoughts! A Black family member must have responsibility! Must have accountability!"
"Responsibility is locking up your own daughter?" Sirius stood up excitedly, his chair scraping backward with a harsh sound. "Responsibility is breaking up two people who love each other?"
"She doesn't love him! She is just—"
"How do you know?" Sirius roared back. "You aren't her! You don't even know that person!"
Orion put down his knife and fork. "Sirius, sit down."
"I won't!" Sirius's eyes were red. "It's not fair! Why can't we choose the people we like? Why must we marry someone from the Sacred Twenty-Eight? I don't know any of the people on that list! Maybe I won't like them at all!"
Walburga also stood up, her wand sliding into her hand. "Say that again?!"
Regulus watched this scene, feeling utterly speechless. Sirius's rebellion was on full display at this moment. Even if he didn't understand what love was at all, he just opposed doing things this way.
And Mother simply used oppression, forcing Sirius to accept her pure-blood ideology.
"Mother," Regulus's voice was calm. "Sirius means that affection is one of the important factors in choosing a partner.
But from the perspective of family continuity, blood stability is indeed the priority. Perhaps the two can be balanced, for example, by choosing someone you like within the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
Walburga paused, her anger subsiding slightly. "Well, of course... if it's within the appropriate range, having affection is better."
Sirius, however, stared at his brother, his eyes hurt. "You're speaking for them too? You also think blood is more important than liking someone?"
"I am speaking of reality," Regulus met his gaze. "The reality is that the Black family will not accept Muggle-borns. Rebels will be disowned. You must choose to accept the rules, or leave."
Sirius understood. He looked at his brother, then at his parents, and suddenly smiled.
He turned and left the dining room. He didn't slam the door or make a scene; he just walked away quietly.
Orion didn't speak, just looked at Regulus with a complex expression.
Dinner continued in silence.