Time will prove the path
Welcome to the fantastical world of magic and fantasy. The entrance is here:
Regulus raised his hand and knocked on the door, which immediately opened. Kreacher stood inside, wearing Tea Towel with the Black family crest on it, and bowed deeply.
"Welcome home, young master."
Regulus nodded slightly to it, then walked past it into the Entrance Hall.
Walburga strode down the stairs, her long black dress billowing behind her.
"Regulus!" She walked up to him, placed her hands on his shoulders, looked him over carefully, and said excitedly, "You've grown taller, and you look good."
"Mother," Regulus nodded, "I'm back."
Walburga smiled and pulled him toward the restaurant.
Orion was already seated at the head of the long table.
Seeing Regulus enter, he looked up, his gaze lingering on his son for a moment, then nodded. "Sit down and eat."
This meal was supposed to be breakfast, but it was prepared as lunch: Roast Lamb Chops, mashed potatoes, and stewed vegetables.
Walburga kept asking about school, course progress, House Points, and relationships with classmates.
Regulus was selective in his answers, filtering out most of the content and only saying what Walburga wanted to hear.
"Slytherin is much quieter now," Regulus said, cutting a piece of Lamb Chop. "Nobody's provoking us anymore."
Walburga's eyes lit up. "They know your strength?"
"I know a little," Regulus said. "My roommates are coming over now, which means they acknowledge my position."
"That's how it should be!" A proud look appeared on Walburga's face. "The Heir of the Black family should make everyone see his true status."
The conversation naturally turned to Sirius.
Just as Walburga was about to frown, Regulus interjected, "We haven't had much contact this semester. I've spent most of my time practicing Magic and studying. He has his friends."
Regulus spoke in a flat tone, simply stating the facts.
Walburga, surprisingly, didn't scold Sirius, but simply snorted, "Let him be. The Black family has you."
Orion ate in silence the entire time, occasionally glancing at his wife and son, but without saying a word.
After lunch, Orion put down his napkin. "Regulus, go and rest for a bit, then come to the Study in half an hour."
"Yes, Father."
Regulus returned to his room. He hadn't been back for over three months; exactly one hundred and four days had passed since the end of the Christmas holidays.
The room remained exactly as it was; the books on the bookshelf were arranged in his usual order, the desk was spotless, and the bed sheets were newly changed, carrying the scent of sunshine.
He stood by the window, looking out at Grimmauld Place. The afternoon sun in April was still warm, but there were few people in the square, and a few bare trees swayed in the wind.
He raised his hand and touched his face; the features were more defined than at Christmas, and his jawline was becoming more pronounced.
I've grown taller, so now I have to bend down a little to look out the window.
Half an hour later, Regulus knocked on the door of Orion's Study.
"Come in."
The Study was filled with the smell of ink and old books. Behind the huge mahogany desk, Orion sat in a chair, holding a document in his hand.
Hearing the door open, he looked up and gestured for the chair opposite him. "Sit."
Regulus sat down, the two of them separated by the desk, the fire crackling in the fireplace.
Orion put down the documents. "What's the matter with coming home?"
Regulus began to speak.
From Hermes' injury to the discovery of the Astronomy Tower passage, and then to Darren Macnair's breaking of the defenses.
From the outbreak of the Grey Mist to his leaving behind to cover the retreat, the Patronus appeared, Dumbledore showed up, Plague Wand was sealed away.
Orion listened quietly, his face expressionless, but his eyes never left Regulus's face.
When Regulus recounted Dumbledore's final words, he observed his father's reaction. Orion simply nodded slightly, signaling him to continue.
After everything was finished, the Study fell silent.
"Macnair and Mulciber's partnership has broken down," Regulus concluded. "Darren's mission failed, and he lost the Plague Wand as well."
The Mulciber family may have reached some kind of tacit understanding with Dumbledore; Hermes's current presence with me can be seen as the Mulciber family expressing their stance.
Orion leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrest. He nodded to indicate that he understood.
"And what about the professors' attitude towards you?" he then asked.
"Beyond the norm," Regulus replied. "Professor McGonagall taught advanced applications of Transfiguration, including Spatial Transfiguration."
Professor Sprout showcased precious Magical Plant, guiding the way forward in Natural Magic.
Professor Flitwick invited me to Advanced Charms Seminar, and Professor Slughorn provided me with connections.
He continued, "I can almost always get an answer whenever I ask. The depth of knowledge far exceeds the scope of normal teaching, and some even exceed the level."
They knew what I was learning and what I was thinking, and instead of stopping me, they offered help.
Orion gestured for him to continue.
"Dumbledore's conversation..." Regulus paused for a moment, "Was more like guidance, about the path of Magic, about power and awe, about Hogwarts allowing for trial and error."
He looked up at his father.
"The professors have been very kind to me," Regulus continued, his voice softening slightly. "Hogwarts has made me feel very good."
He knew why the professors were so kind to him; he knew there were calculations, expectations, and interests behind it all.
But at the same time, that goodness is real.
The notes Professor McGonagall handed over were genuine, the knowledge Professor Sprout shared was genuine, the ideas Professor Flitwick conveyed were genuine, and Dumbledore's guidance was genuine.
One can remain clear-headed about one's motives while accepting the behavior itself.
Orion understood. He looked at his son, his eyes filled with complex emotions: understanding, relief, and a touch of unspeakable heaviness.
"A person with normal thinking," Orion said in a low voice, "Would think of repaying someone who is kind to you. That's human nature, not a weakness."
"The Black family has publicly stated that they stand with Voldemort. This is a family decision, a choice made after careful consideration. If they were to switch sides now, you know the consequences without me having to explain them."
He looked at Regulus, his gaze sharp, with a hint of expectation.
I want to know what you think.
Orion didn't ask for a choice, because he had already made one.
He didn't force his son to take sides, because he had already done so.
He only wanted to understand Regulus's thoughts, and also wanted to give Regulus some space.
Regulus remained silent.
He watched the fireplace flames, watched the firewood crackle in the fire, and watched the Mars rise and disappear into the chimney.
My mind raced.
He can say whatever he wants to others, depending on their needs, but he should tell his father the truth.
Family stance, personal path, Dumbledore's expectations, Voldemort's shadow, the professors' goodwill, and the accumulation of one's own power.
All the lines intertwine to form a complex web.
"My choice hasn't changed, but I don't want to be driven forward when I really need to make a choice—"
Many images flashed through his mind, many things that might happen in the future.
"I will gain the power to choose freely before I truly need to make a choice," Regulus raised his eyes, his gaze landing on Orion's face:
His tone was calm, as if he were stating an inevitable fact.
Orion's body trembled slightly. He looked at his son, a glint in his eyes.
He knew what choice Regulus was referring to—a choice that would truly hurt one side and completely side with the other.
Even if someone doesn't really want to hurt anyone, someone will force them to do it.
The power of free choice is the power of refusal.
He couldn't fathom how powerful one would need to be to achieve that, but given Regulus's current performance and rate of progress, it might indeed be possible.
"You've improved again?" His voice held a hint of expectation.
"There has been progress, but not as much as I imagined," Regulus answered honestly. "However, the direction is clear. I know where to go, how to get there, and what I need. The rest—"
A confident smile played on his lips, understated yet radiating conviction. "We'll get there step by step."
Orion leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh. He believed what Regulus had said.
The fact that his son wasn't swayed by the warmth of Hogwarts or misled by Dumbledore's sweet talk put him at ease.
The road was full of thorns, but Regulus could see it clearly and walk steadily, which earned his approval.
How could a son like this not make him proud?
Orion looked at him. "But until then, let's stick to the established plan."
"Understood." Regulus nodded solemnly.
Orion stood up, opened the drawer, and took out a dark wooden box.
The box wasn't large, and its surface had a fine wood grain. It had no lock, but Regulus could sense the protective Magic on it.
"Here you go," Orion handed over the box, "Easter present."
Regulus took it and opened it.
Inside was a Pocket Watch. The dial had no numbers, only star patterns, and the hands were slender silver arrows.
The inside of the watch case is engraved with the words: Time will prove the path.
"It was left to me by your grandfather," Orion said nostalgically, "And I'm giving it to you now. It doesn't have any special functions, it just keeps accurate time, but sometimes, keeping accurate time is enough."
Regulus closed the watch case and put the Pocket Watch into his pocket. "Thank you, Father."
Orion nodded. "What are your plans for the holidays?"
"Practice Magic," Regulus said. "There are some things that aren't convenient to practice at school."
"For example?"
"Fiendfyre Curse."
Orion looked up at him, a hint of surprise in his eyes, but quickly regained his composure.
"Be careful," he said. "That thing is hard to control."
"I know," Regulus nodded.