A cozy dinner
Lestrange Manor, outside Oxfordshire.
Even after nightfall, the manor remained anything but tranquil.
It's not the kind of place that makes you want to take a walk in the moonlight; it's more like a giant beast lurking in the darkness, piled with stones, cold and icy.
The windows were narrow and tall, mostly dark, with only a few on the bottom floor letting in light. The light spilled out of the windows and fell on the lawn, but it didn't illuminate very far.
The restaurant is located on the first floor of the main building of the manor. Entering through the main entrance, you walk through a Corridor paved with dark stone slabs, with Portrait hanging on both sides of the Corridor.
The people in the Portrait are dressed in clothes from centuries ago, with different expressions, and their gazes are all directed towards the end of the Corridor.
The restaurant was spacious, with long tables stretching from one end to the other, enough to seat thirty people, but only two were sitting there.
The tabletop was made of dark stone, polished smooth. White candles were stuck in candlesticks, the flames dancing at the tops. The light shining down from the candlesticks was just enough to illuminate the tabletop and the people around it.
Further out, the light seemed to be swallowed up by something, and the area outside the chair back was completely shrouded in shadow.
The Magic fireplace was embedded in the south wall, the fire burning brightly, and the orange-red light danced at the fireplace opening, but only illuminated a small section of floor tile in front of the fireplace.
The heat from the flames drifted out, but upon encountering the darkness, it seemed to be sucked away, unable to reach the other side of the room.
Bellatrix sat at one end of the long table, her long, black curly hair cascading over her shoulders, with a few strands falling across her chest, making her skin appear coldly pale.
She wore a dark green velvet robe with dark silver lace trim at the neckline, and the buttons were fastened all the way to her collarbone.
The robe fit her body tightly at the waist. She sat upright with her back not against the chair back. Her left hand rested on the table, her fingers long and slender, her nails painted dark red.
On the table was a silver plate containing roasted young chicken, charred to a crisp, accompanied by mushrooms and potatoes simmered in red wine.
The wine glass beside him was filled with deep red wine, the liquid gleaming dimly in the candlelight.
She cut off a piece of meat with her knife, put it in her mouth with her fork, chewed it three times, and swallowed it.
The movements were neither too fast nor too slow, and there was almost no sound as the food was being cut.
Rodolphus sat at the other end of the long table, dressed in a well-tailored dark gray robe with a Lestrange Family Silver Crest pinned to his collar, featuring Snake-around-Sword with intricate dark patterns.
In front of him sat pan-fried Lamb Chop, served with roasted garlic and Rosemary, the juices pooling in a dark ring at the bottom of the plate.
He used a knife to remove the meat from the bone, cut it into small square pieces, and put them into his mouth one by one.
The mouth is closed while chewing, and no sound is made.
His posture was as upright as Bellatrix's, but more stiff, as if he were wearing an ill-fitting suit of armor.
The dining table was quiet; the sound of cutlery hitting the Porcelain Plates was faint and cold, and no one spoke.
The two were separated by the length of a table, on which candlesticks, vases, and silver condiment bottles were arranged in a row, like a dividing line.
A House-elf emerged from the shadows, moving slowly and crouching low, almost parallel to the ground.
A dark brown Tea Towel was wrapped around her body, its edges frayed, revealing her thin arms and legs.
It walked to Bellatrix's chair, stopped, bent down even lower, its nose almost touching the stone slab, and raised its hands above its head, holding a silver tray with a letter on it.
Its voice, strained and trembling, was forced from its throat. "The Master... letter..."
Bellatrix ignored it, her gaze fixed on the plate in front of her. She picked up a piece of foie gras with her fork, put it in her mouth, chewed it twice, and swallowed it.
Pick up the napkin and wipe your mouth slowly, from left to right, then fold the napkin and put it back on the table.
Then she reached out and picked up the letter from the tray. The moment her fingers touched the paper, she recognized it.
This is the piece of paper she mailed out last night.
Her expression changed; the color faded from her face, her lips pressed into a thin line, the corners of her mouth pressed down tightly, her eyelids drooped slightly, and her eyelashes obscured her pupils, making it impossible to see what was inside.
The House-elf was still lying on the ground, his forehead pressed against the stone slab, his whole body trembling.
Bellatrix unfolded the letter.
The first thing you see on the paper is a dark brown stain. It has dried, and the edges are curled up with tiny cracks. The color gets darker in concentric circles from the center outwards, and the darkest part is almost black.
Her first thought was blood.
Her pupils contracted slightly, her fingertips paused on the paper for a moment, then she lowered her head and sniffed it.
Dry tomato sauce.
Her face darkened completely. She took the letter away and looked down at its contents.
The dark red tomato sauce forms two letters, one capital letter and the other a capital O, with no space between them.
The strokes begin thickly and end with an upward flick, resulting in uneven edges because the tomato sauce shrank after drying.
The "O" is written in a round shape, with a trailing line at the end, as if the writer was impatient when writing the last stroke and just casually flicked it.
The two letters were followed by a question mark, the dot of which was long and drooping, like a drop of not-quite-dried tomato sauce about to drip down, but which had already dried.
O?
Bellatrix gripped the letter tightly, her breathing becoming heavy.
Her purpose in writing the letter was simple: to warn him, to give him a warning, to let him know she was watching him.
O?
Bellatrix gripped the letter tightly, her breathing becoming heavy.
Her purpose in writing the letter was simple: to warn him, to give him a warning, to let him know she was watching him.
She mentioned this during the holidays; protecting those two Half-bloods is unacceptable.
Regulus didn't respond, make any promises, or refuse at the time. She wanted to force him to make a statement, but Orion stopped her.
But in her heart, the matter was already decided.
Moreover, that was a minor matter, even more significant than the Master Regulus from taking shelter from the two Half-bloods.
But Regulus didn't listen.
Since last week, the two Half-bloods have been appearing at the heart of the Slytherin table, sitting next to Regulus. The patronage has gone from private to public, from a possibility to a fact.
When Bellatrix learned about this, her first thought was confusion.
She didn't understand why Regulus did that.
They're just two Half-bloods people; it's not worth it. The Heir of the Black family would gain nothing by sheltering two Half-bloods.
No one in the Pure-blood Circle would think highly of him because of this, Voldemort's side certainly wouldn't treat him any differently because of it.
She wrote that letter, carefully choosing her words; it contained warnings, threats, and an ultimatum.
She expected Regulus to at least give a response—an explanation, a defense, silence, or even a retort.
But Regulus only replied with an "O?"
She didn't care about the two Half-bloods; that was a minor matter. What she really wanted was Regulus's attitude.
She married Lestrange, but she still bears the surname Black. A married daughter doesn't mean the relationship is severed; that's not the logic of Pureblood families.
Regulus is the Heir of the Black family, and if she can keep him under her control, her influence within the family will be secure.
In front of Orion, in front of Walburga, and even in front of Voldemort, she was the one who could influence the future of the Black family.
The Master will gain a completely controlled Black family, not only as an heir, but also with the vast resources accumulated by the Black family over hundreds of years.
Regulus's reply made her feel out of control; she took his obedience as an endorsement of her authority in front of Voldemort.
Regulus was disobedient, and she couldn't just use the excuse that the child was opinionated.
She could only sense one thing: her authority had been challenged.
This is undoubtedly offensive.
The underlying logic of the Pure-bloods core circle is very simple: hierarchy.
The Black family is indeed powerful, but she is the eldest daughter of the Black family, Regulus's cousin, and a member of Voldemort's inner circle.
In her mind, her writing letters was a way of superiors beating down, and Regulus's reply was like pulling her down from her superior position to look at her at eye level, or even looking down on her.
Her anger stemmed from a simpler and clearer reason: she understood that Regulus hadn't taken her words seriously at all.
Bellatrix wasn't stupid; she knew Regulus was talented and that he was progressing quickly.
However, within her understanding, there is an upper limit to how strong a second-year wizard can be; no matter how strong they are, they are still just a junior wizard.
She was confident in her own power and had faith in Voldemort's power.
What right does a twelve-year-old child have to reply to her letter with such an attitude?
Unless, he has something she doesn't know about.
Once the thought crossed his mind, even anger was suppressed.
She began to wonder, where did he get his confidence? Who was backing him? Dumbledore? Or someone else?
Then another emotion welled up from deeper within: fear.
Bellatrix's feelings for Voldemort were not simply loyalty.
She was infatuated with him, an infatuation that ran deep in her bones. Seeing him, hearing him speak, or being looked at by him would make her tremble all over.
But she was also afraid of him, afraid of disappointing him, afraid that he would think she was incompetent, afraid that one day he would only glance at her and then never look at her again.
The word "loyalty" is too light; it cannot encompass her entirety.
She feared Voldemort would think she couldn't even control a child.
Regulus's reply was not only an offense to her, but also a denial of her abilities.
If Voldemort knew, he might think, "You can't handle the person you recommended."
Therefore, she had to suppress the matter before Voldemort found out, or interpret it as Regulus's problem, not hers.
She sat there, clutching the letter, her chest heaving violently, her breathing heavy, as if something was blocking her airway.
She was wrapped in a Dark Green Velvet Robe, the silver lace at the neckline gleaming coldly in the candlelight.
She stared at the "O?", her lips twitching slightly before forming a cold, sharp smile.
Then she took a deep breath, her shoulders slumped, and the rise and fall of her chest gradually subsided.
She folded the letter and tucked it under her palm, then picked up her wine glass with her other hand and took a big gulp.
She wanted to personally deal with the families of those two Half-bloods wizards and teach Regulus a lesson he would never forget.
But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she suppressed it; she couldn't do that.
Once those two Half-bloods family members are involved, the situation changes.
She got married, but she still took the surname Black, which is one of the foundations of her identity.
To mess with those two Half-bloods family members is tantamount to slapping the Black family in the face.
Regulus is the Heir of the Black family, and to some extent, or when necessary, Regulus does what the Black family wants.
Orion will not tolerate this.
She could disregard Orion, but she couldn't disregard Voldemort.
Voldemort is still in the stage of winning over Pureblood families; it's not time for him to completely crush them yet.
The Black family is one of the highest-ranking families among the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Voldemort needs the support of the Black family, or at least, he needs the Black family not to openly oppose him.
If she were to put the Black family on the opposite side because of something as trivial as disciplining her cousin, she wouldn't be highly regarded by Voldemort.
Voldemort wanted people who could get things done, not people who would cause him trouble.
More importantly, Voldemort's attitude towards Regulus was one of observation, not elimination; the Dark Enlightenment was a test, not a judgment.
Voldemort wanted to see how far this Heir of the Black family could go and whether he was worth winning over.
If she were to make the decision for Voldemort at this stage and kill the person Regulus was protecting, it would be tantamount to overstepping Voldemort's authority.
No matter how crazy she was, she wouldn't dare to make decisions for Voldemort.
There's also a more direct reason.
If she were to turn her attention to those two Half-bloods family members, it would be tantamount to admitting that she couldn't do anything to Regulus and could only take her anger out on the people around him.
That's so embarrassing.
She can be ruthless, but she cannot appear incompetent.
During the holidays, she planned to make Regulus face her again, in the living room of Black Ancestral Home, with Orion and Walburga both present, and make him say "O?" one more time.
She bet he wouldn't dare.
Bellatrix stood up, the chair leg scraping against the floor with a short, sharp screech.
She folded the letter twice, clutched it in her hand, and turned to leave.
The hem of her dark green robe swept across the ground, stirring up a gust of wind. The candlelight flickered, and her shadow slid across the table, disappearing into the darkness from the light.
Rodolphus never looked up. When Bellatrix stood up, he was cutting up a pigeon; when Bellatrix walked out, he was chewing on a pigeon.
As Bellatrix's footsteps faded away, he swallowed the last bite, put down his knife and fork, and picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth.
He then leaned back in his chair, turned his head, and glanced towards the Corridor.
There was no one there anymore; only the firelight from the fireplace illuminated a small area.
He was silent for a moment, then raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
The House-elf was still huddled in the shadows next to the chair, his body bent over, his forehead almost touching the floor tiles, and his knees hitting the ground.
Rodolphus flicked his finger.
The House-elf got up from the ground, ran over with small steps, stopped next to his chair, bent his body at a right angle, and pointed his nose at the floor tile.
"The Master."
"That letter just now," Rodolphus said in a flat, monotone voice, "What's going on?"
The House-elf's voice trembled. "Reporting to the Master... it's... it's a reply from the young master of the Black family."
"Content."
The House-elf trembled even more violently. It dared not raise its head, its voice broken and intermittent. "A reply... the reply... wrote... wrote two letters... O... and a question mark..."
Rodolphus didn't speak, but tapped his finger on the armrest of the chair.
The House-elf hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice even further. "The reply... seems to be from Ketchup."
Rodolphus turned his head to look at the House-elf, his expression unchanged, but a hint of surprise or amusement flashed in his eyes.
He was silent for a moment, then waved his hand.
The House-elf bowed and disappeared.
Rodolphus leaned back in his chair, looked at the empty seat across the long table, picked up his glass, took a sip, and put it down.
The Heir of the Black family, a second-year student, replied to Bellatrix with an "O?" written in ketchup.
Bellatrix was appeased by a twelve-year-old boy with ketchup.
Rodolphus's lips twitched.
But in any case, this matter has nothing to do with him; it's an internal matter for the Black family Black family, and they should handle it themselves.
The Lestrange family doesn't get involved.
He picked up his knife and fork and continued eating.
She could disregard Regulus, but she couldn't disregard the surname Black.
Click to begin your wondrous journey in <Hogwarts: Regulus Lord of the Starry Sky>.
Readers are hotly debating: What exactly happened? Join the discussion at Cola Novels.
It would have started with the older cousin disciplining her younger cousin, and then turned into the Lestrange family declaring war on the Black family.
She could disregard Regulus, but she couldn't disregard the surname Black.
The Lord of Water-Strengthening presents <Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Starry Sky>, exclusively published by Cola Novels!
It would have started with the older cousin disciplining her younger cousin, and then turned into the Lestrange family declaring war on the Black family.
She could disregard Regulus, but she couldn't disregard the surname Black.
You can read the latest updated chapters of <Hogwarts: Regulus, Lord of the Starry Sky> without any issues on PP's "Renren Library" platform. Over one million books are available for free reading. You can also visit the PP official website.
It would have started with the older cousin disciplining her younger cousin, and then turned into the Lestrange family declaring war on the Black family.