It Can Be Like This?

Narcissa's tone turned serious. "Bellatrix already knows. She'll contact you soon, perhaps by letter, perhaps by coming to Hogwarts herself."

"She'll test you, assess you, and then decide whether to recommend you to the Dark Lord."

Regulus was silent for a few seconds.

"So what's your advice?" he asked.

"Rein it in a little, at least in public. You can show talent, but not to that extent."

"At Hogwarts, especially with a professor like Slughorn who likes collecting geniuses, your reputation will spread quickly."

"And when a reputation reaches ears that shouldn't hear it, it brings trouble—or opportunity, depending on how you see it."

I've already reined it in, Regulus thought to himself. And besides, this is exactly my goal, though it's still too early.

Eleven was only suitable for being observed. Even Voldemort would not make an eleven-year-old do anything. He was not some African warlord in need of 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 clever people sometimes trust themselves too much and often overlook what's around them."

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, what happened last night isn't over. Travers won't just let it go."

"He may not trouble you personally, but he'll have others come instead—older students, or those followers of his. That fits the Rules of Slytherin."

"I welcome them anytime." Facing a cousin who was still fairly close to him, Regulus's attitude became more casual.

Narcissa looked at him for a long time, then suddenly smiled. "You know?"

"Sometimes I think you and Sirius are actually very alike. Not just in appearance, but in that reckless streak in your bones. He simply uses it for rebellion, while you use it elsewhere."

She turned to leave, but stopped again. "One more thing. Lucius Malfoy. He's very interested in you—not that kind of interested."

"If he wants to see you, remember to be polite and stay cautious."

Regulus nodded. I know. Your fiancé.

With that, she left quickly, the hem of her robe tracing an elegant arc across the stone floor.

Regulus turned and walked toward the next classroom. History of Magic, Professor Binns's class. It would be the easiest lesson of the day.

The sky over the Scottish Highlands on Friday was clear and freshly washed.

On the training lawn for Flying Class, twenty Flying Broomsticks were lined up neatly. Every one of them was old, with uneven twigs, teaching tools Hogwarts had accumulated over many years.

Madam Hooch stood in front of the lines. Her hair was short and gray, and her sharp eyes swept over every student.

"All right, everyone stand to the left of your broomstick!" Her voice was loud and crisp. "Stretch out your right hand, hold it over the broomstick, and say clearly: up!"

The students did as instructed, and uneven shouts rang across the lawn.

"Up!"

At the front of the Gryffindor line, a red-haired, freckle-faced boy—probably one of the Weasleys, whom Regulus had seen at the start of term but had not bothered to remember by name—almost immediately made his broomstick jump into his hand. He was grinning smugly, drawing low exclamations from several Gryffindors beside him.

On the Slytherin side, Avery Cuthbert's broomstick rolled half a circle on the ground before rising reluctantly. He clicked his tongue in irritation.

Hermes Mulciber tried twice. On the second try, the broomstick sprang up abruptly and nearly hit him in the chin.

Regulus lowered his gaze and looked at the old Cleansweep by his feet.

"Up." His voice was steady, neither urging nor hesitant.

The broomstick trembled lightly on the ground, hesitated for a second, then fell into his open palm.

"Very good!" Madam Hooch strode quickly between the two lines.

"Mr. Weasley, quick response! Now everyone listen carefully. When I count to three, push gently off the ground and let your broomstick rise one foot above the ground, then maintain the hover."

"No higher than my shoulder! One, two... three!"

Chaos arrived right on schedule.

The rush of broomsticks shooting upward, girls' cries of alarm, and boys' forcedly brave shouts all mixed together.

At least four broomsticks went out of control and surged high. A Gryffindor girl screamed as she hugged the broom handle tightly, and Madam Hooch saved her with a timely slowing charm that eased her down.

Regulus, meanwhile, hovered steadily in the air exactly one foot above the ground, completely motionless.

His body was almost still, only the hem of his black robe moving 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 been glued to the sky."

Not far away, a brown-haired Gryffindor girl, Sarah Bones, also noticed the anomaly.

Her own hover was quite good, with only slight swaying and rising and falling, as though drifting with the wind.

But Regulus's steadiness was something else entirely. There was no wasted movement at all; every shift of his center of gravity was so precise it was as if he already knew every reaction the broomstick would have in the next second.

"Eyes forward, don't look down!" Madam Hooch shouted, flicking her Wand repeatedly to straighten out several students who had begun spinning.

"Now, try moving forward slowly!" Madam Hooch demonstrated a gentle pushing motion. "Feel how the broomstick responds, as if you were dealing with a living partner!"

The line began to inch forward clumsily. Most of the new students veered off course, their speed lurching fast and slow.

Regulus glided forward about fifteen feet at a steady speed, his path perfectly straight, then turned left as instructed.

"Hah, what a poser!" In the Gryffindor line, a stocky boy with black hair and thick brows muttered unhappily.

His broomstick was disobediently arcing left and right, forming a glaring contrast with Regulus's composure.

"He really does control his flight better, Alphard," the girl beside him said matter-of-factly.

"Better like a block of wood!" Alphard raised his voice, deliberately letting the wind carry his words toward the Slytherin line. "Not moving an inch, like he's terrified of falling off! Flying takes guts!"

Several Gryffindors laughed under their breath.

On the Slytherin side, Avery Cuthbert knitted his brows tightly, Hermes Mulciber shot Alphard a gloomy glance, and Alex Rosier looked worriedly toward Regulus.

Regulus seemed not to hear.

Alphard Pruitt's expression grew even uglier.

As the lesson entered its second half, Madam Hooch let the students freely practice basic controls while she went to guide a few who were struggling especially hard. The Training Ground immediately scattered into a dozen small groups.

Alphard deliberately steered his broomstick over near the Slytherin Area, his two friends following on either side.

"So, Black," Alphard hovered a few feet from Regulus. "Does your family train you specially in how to ride a broomstick like a statue? Got to maintain that noble image, after all."

Avery immediately drove his broomstick forward. "Watch your mouth, Pruitt."

"I'm talking to Black, Cuthbert." Alphard lifted his chin provocatively. "Or does he need someone else to speak for him?"

Regulus slowly turned his head, his gray eyes calmly looking at Alphard.

"Pruitt," he said, his voice not loud. "What are you trying to prove? Gryffindor courage? Or Pruitt manners?"

"A Slytherin brat is lecturing me about manners?" Alphard's voice rose with anger.

Regulus only looked at him quietly. Only when Alphard's face had flushed red did he slowly speak. "Do you have any?"

Alphard was provoked. He knew that if he did not do something, he would become a laughingstock.

He yanked out his wand, and his two friends, Colin Macmillan and Gareth Diggory, immediately followed suit as well, their wands pointing toward the Slytherin side.

"Want a fight?" Avery Cuthbert drew his wand almost at the same time, his face a mix of vigilance and a trace of excitement.

Hermes Mulciber's face was gloomy as his wand slid into his hand. Without a word, he drove his broomstick half a step forward, shoulder to shoulder with Avery.

Alex Rosier's face went pale. After hesitating for a moment, he also raised his wand shakily, though his aim was clearly toward an empty patch of ground.

Alphard shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

Regulus flicked his wand. "Expelliarmus."

His spell was faster and more solid, striking second yet arriving first. Two streaks of red light collided precisely in midair and burst into a shower of sparks.

The Disarming Charms canceled each other out on impact.

"What?!" It was not only Alphard; the surrounding students were all stunned.

The Disarming Charm could be used like that?