Loose Lips Sink Ships

In Orion's judgment, Sirius was not someone Sirius should be listening to the following conversation.

It's not that I don't trust them, it's just that there's no need to.

He wanted to talk to Regulus about Bellatrix's situation—why he sheltered those two Half-bloods, and why he replied in such a provocative way. Each of these things pointed to the same question: why did Regulus, at this particular time and in this way, deliberately provoke a conflict with Bellatrix? Regulus's behavior at school seemed much more flamboyant than before—openly sheltering the Half-bloods, placing them at the center of the Slytherin table, and responding to Bellatrix's warning in that manner.

Each of these actions seemed to deliberately provoke conflict, which was not Regulus's usual style.

But Orion knew his son; Regulus wouldn't do these things without a reason.

These actions would be troublesome for any second-year Pure-bloods wizard, but Orion felt that Regulus must have his reasons for doing so.

Regulus's power had reached a level that many adult wizards couldn't even dream of, yet the changes it brought about were minimal. Anyone else with Regulus's abilities would have become arrogant long ago.

He swaggered around Hogwarts, acted arrogantly in the Pure-blood Circle, and even began to challenge wizards who were a cut above him.

A twelve-year-old wizard, wielding Space Magic, able to summon legendary Patronus, and developing the Severing Charm comparable to the Killing Curse, with Fiendfyre tamed to such an extent that his combat skills surpass those of most Auror.

If this talent were in someone with less self-control, in today's Wizarding World, they would have ruined themselves long ago. But Regulus didn't.

He remained calm and restrained, taking things one step at a time, never jumping ahead or acting recklessly.

Orion even thought that even if Regulus were to one day reach the level of Dumbledore or Voldemort, he would probably still be the same as he is now.

Because that's just how he is at heart; calmness and restraint are his inherent traits.

Therefore, there must have been reasons, purposes, and plans behind what he did.

Those reasons and purposes are what we'll really be discussing in Study study tonight.

But Sirius shouldn't have been there.

Orion won't believe a word of the lies he told Walburga at the dinner table. He'll have a proper talk with his Bellatrix and clarify things. A proper talk?

If Regulus had intended to have a proper discussion, he wouldn't have done those things.

Therefore, he never intended for Sirius to be involved.

But Regulus let him come, why?

Is it related to the changes in Sirius?

What happened between the two brothers at school?

Orion looked at Regulus, waiting for his explanation.

Regulus met Orion's gaze, his tone flat. "He knows about the Dark Enlightenment."

Orion raised his eyebrows slightly, then lowered them, returning to his composed demeanor.

Regulus continued, "We talked at Hogwarts. He knew who Bellatrix represented, the situation at the time, and why I accepted the role."

He didn't say what they talked about specifically, but only told Orion that Sirius knew.

Orion shifted his gaze from Regulus to Sirius.

Sirius sat in the chair, leaning back, his hands on the armrests, his fingertips tracing the edges. His gaze fell on the spine of a book on the bookshelf next to him, his expression a little awkward.

He did think a lot at the time, throughout the entire vacation.

Bellatrix's Bone Box led to Regulus's choice, which in turn led to questions about what had happened to the family, and what had happened led to questions about what he himself was doing.

He tugged at his sleeve and muttered, "I came up with it myself."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a hint of defiance and smugness, as if to say, "You guessed right, but I didn't learn this from you." Indeed, it was his own idea.

Regulus only said there was no choice; the rest was up to him to figure out.

But being told to his face that he knew and understood made him feel extremely uncomfortable, as if a layer of skin had been peeled off.

Regulus didn't reply.

Orion didn't answer either.

The Study was quiet for a moment, then the green flame in the fireplace flickered twice.

Orion looked at Sirius, at his awkward yet feigned indifference, and at his little tug at his sleeve.

Regulus actually talked to him about that matter.

That day in the restaurant in Grimmauld Place, Bellatrix, on behalf of Voldemort, handed over the Bone Box, leaving Regulus with only one option.

If they don't answer, it's a matter between the Black family and Voldemort.

By accepting the offer, Voldemort was essentially making a show of force, shifting his focus from the Black family's position to the potential of the Black family heir. This son understood Regulus's predicament: weighed down by Voldemort's gaze and confined by the family's stance, leaving him no room to refuse.

He learned about his brother's situation, that he had no choice at the time, and that some things cannot be judged by right or wrong.

He found out, and then he started to change.

I've grown up, at least in this respect.

But Orion also knew that this was the end of it.

Sirius learned of Regulus's situation and understood his brother's predicament. He even tried to get closer to Regulus in his own way. He understood Regulus, not the Black family.

He still didn't accept the Pure-bloods system, Voldemort's system, or the way this family operated.

He will not become a qualified Pureblood families heir, he will not hold a glass and chat with people at a banquet, and he will not put the family interests before his personal wishes.

He only knew one thing: his brother, in that world he despised, was forced to make a choice he also despised, and that choice was the right one.

That's enough.

There's no need for him to accept anything more, nor is it possible for him to accept anything more.

Orion looked away, nodded, and said nothing.

Regulus waited a moment, then said, "So he can listen to some of it here."

Orion nodded again, as if to acknowledge it.

Regulus continued, his tone the same as before. "After the dinner, I'd like to keep a few people behind, preferably all from the Black family, including my cousin Narcissa, so we can talk face-to- Bellatrix."

He didn't say what they were going to talk about, but Sirius understood that he wanted to do Bellatrix.

Sirius sprang to his feet, his eyes gleaming, and his voice rose in a sneer, "You're going to fight Bellatrix?"

Regulus glanced at him. "I said talk."

"Talk?" Sirius's lips curled into a sneer, his expression clearly disbelieving. "What do you have to talk about with Bellatrix?"

Regulus didn't look at him again, and said calmly, "Just do your own thing."

Sirius, unconvinced, leaned forward slightly, a smirk playing on his lips, a look of eager excitement on his face. "I can do it!"

"You can't," Regulus interrupted him.

Sirius's mouth was still open, the rest of his sentence stuck in his throat, his brows furrowed, and he became even more indignant.

He raised his voice slightly. "You have no idea what I'm going to say."

Regulus turned his head to look at him, his expression unchanged. "You can't even beat Kreacher."

Sirius's expression froze.

Then he laughed, a snicker coming from his mouth, a breath coming out of his nose, his mouth stretching to his ears, his face clearly saying, "Are you kidding me?"

"Kreacher?" He looked at Regulus, his tone full of disdain. "You mean that House-elf who's always kneeling around wiping the floor?" But Regulus didn't laugh.

Sirius's smile was still on his face.

He looked at Regulus's expression; his face was expressionless, devoid of any joking or mockery. He glanced at Orion, Orion was looking down at the table, ignoring him.

Sirius's smile gradually faded.

He remained defiant, jutting his chin forward. "You mean Kreacher? That Kreacher?"

Regulus didn't answer, but turned his head. "Kreacher."

Kreacher emerged from the air in the corner of the Study and stood with his hands at his sides beside the desk.

The Tea Towel was washed clean, the edges were ironed flat, and the large ears protruded from both sides.

It bent down towards Regulus, its nose almost touching his knee. "Young master's name is Kreacher."

Then, noticing Orion behind the desk and Sirius beside him, they bowed and said, "The Master, Eldest Young Master."

Regulus pointed at Sirius: "Take his wand."

Kreacher blinked twice, his body stiffening slightly.

Its gaze shifted from Regulus's face to Sirius's face, and then to Orion's face.

The Eldest Young Master is also the Master.

But the young master is giving orders.

Orion raised his eyes, said nothing, and simply nodded.

Kreacher turned back to look at Sirius, who raised his right hand and snapped his withered fingers in the air.

Smack

The sound was crisp and light, like the snapping of a dry twig.

Sirius's wand flew out of the inner pocket of his robe.

Before he could react, his hand was still on his knee when the wand slipped from his grasp, twirled halfway through the air, and floated lightly to Orion's desk.

Sirius then reached into his pocket, only to find it empty.

He had his hands in his inner pockets, looking at the wand on the table.

His magic wand.

He usually carried it in his inner pocket, close to his ribs, but now that spot was empty.

He looked at Kreacher.

Kreacher stood with his hands at his sides, his posture respectful, his eyes lowered, and his fingertips still in the position of snapping his fingers.

Sirius's face screamed three words: What the hell!

This thing, you want to take away his wand?

Sirius turned sharply and glared at Regulus: "You made it..."

He didn't finish speaking.

Regulus pointed with his right index finger.

A gray light shot from his fingertips, striking Sirius in the chest.

Petrificus Totalus.

Sirius's voice caught in his throat, and his body froze instantly.

The second one followed immediately.

Regulus tapped his finger again and Muffliato.

The world fell silent.

Sirius remained frozen in his chair, half-sitting up.

His mouth was agape, half a word still hanging on his tongue, his eyes were wide open, his finger pointed in Regulus's direction, his posture stiff, like a statue. He could see.

Regulus sat beside him, withdrew his finger, and his expression remained unchanged.

Orion sat behind his desk, his gaze sweeping over him before returning to his seat.

The world has become a silent film; all sound has been stripped away.

Sirius wanted to move, but couldn't.

I want to blink, but I can't.

I want to turn my head, but I can't.

My arm was dangling in mid-air, a very awkward posture, but I was so frozen in place that it didn't ache even after a while.

Regulus looked at him, his lips moved, and he uttered three words.

Sirius couldn't understand it.

Serves you right.

Serves you right for being so foul-mouthed.