Regulus: I'm Looking Forward To It

Edge of the lawn in front of the Lestrange Manor, on the outskirts of Oxfordshire.

Sirius opened his eyes, swayed slightly, his feet touched solid ground, and he blinked.

There was no gagging, no leg weakness, and no ringing in the ears.

He looked at Regulus, a hint of surprise in his expression. "You... this time?"

"It was intentional last time." Regulus released his arm.

Sirius glared at him.

"Sirius, come here." Orion's voice came from ahead.

He and Walburga were already standing in the square in front of the manor, looking back in this direction.

Sirius glared at Regulus again, then strode over.

Regulus didn't rush to leave; he first looked around.

Visitors continued to appear in the open space in front of the manor.

Some appeared out of thin air, Apparition, and after a muffled thud, the people were standing there. Most of them were adult wizards with their families, the men in robes and the women in long dresses, walking on the lawn towards the manor.

Some House-elf brought along, appearing with their the Master with a snap, then hunching over and retreating into the shadows.

Several other groups were transported by Portkey, clutching teapot lids, old gloves, or a piece of rope in their hands. After landing, they stuffed the items into their pockets and dusted off their robes.

When a couple landed, the woman cursed something in French, probably because the Portkey had dirtied her gloves.

The man replied to her in English, his accent tinged with drawn-out vowels; he was from the Southern France.

There were quite a few people, walking in twos and threes on the lawn toward the manor. Some bumped into acquaintances along the way, stopped to shake hands and exchange pleasantries, their breaths drifting in the night.

Regulus's gaze swept past the crowd and landed on the manor.

The plaza in front of the manor is paved with stone slabs, and glowing moss is embedded in the cracks between the stones. When you step on it, it lights up briefly and then dims when you lift your foot. The bushes on both sides of the plaza are neatly trimmed, and a Magic orb of light hangs from the top of each bush.

They were silvery-white, not large, but numerous, stretching from the plaza entrance all the way to the Entrance Hall steps, illuminating the entire road.

The exterior walls of the main building are covered with glowing vines that climb up the French stonework, wrap around the edge of each narrow window, and continue upwards to the top floor's battlements.

Tiny Light Point floated in the air, scattered by the wind and then gathering again, only to scatter once more. As they passed over a passerby's shoulder, they would pause briefly on their robe before continuing to drift.

Warm yellow light emanated from every window of the manor, steady and full, overflowing from the window frames and casting a soft, warm hue on the stone walls of the manor.

The chimney on the roof emitted silvery-white smoke. The smoke did not rise into the sky, but swirled around the chimney opening a few times before turning into thin threads that climbed up the ridge and hung on the eaves, jingling in the wind.

The entire manor glowed as if it were breathing.

The stones are still the same stones, the windows are still the same windows, but under the embellishment of Magic, the cold, oppressive feeling is covered up, replaced by a kind of old-money luxury, quiet and understated.

Regulus looked away and walked forward to catch up with Orion and the others.

The number of people on the stone-paved road gradually increased, becoming denser as they approached the main gate of the manor.

Orion walked at the front, his pace slow, with Walburga holding his right arm, her skirt trailing a mark on the ground.

Sirius followed on Orion's left, with Regulus beside Sirius.

A middle-aged wizard in a dark blue robe strode over from the side, stopping two steps in front of Orion and giving a slight bow. "Good evening, Mr. Black."

Orion stopped and glanced at him. "Christopher."

"Long time no see. The last time was in Wizengamot," the man said with a smile, his attitude respectful but not obsequious, striking a good balance. "Regarding this year's proposal on the control of Dark Arts items, our family voted the same as the Black family."

"I know." Orion's tone was similar to usual, neither warm nor cold.

Christopher waited a moment, and seeing that Orion didn't seem inclined to continue, he tactfully turned to the side. "These two."

"My two sons," Orion said.

"I've heard so much about you," Christopher nodded to Sirius and Regulus, his tone now more enthusiastic. "The two young masters of the Black family must be quite accomplished at Hogwarts."

"Hello." Regulus nodded, interrupting the sentence he hadn't finished speaking.

Christopher's smile faltered for a moment, then returned. He nodded to Orion again, stepped aside to let him pass, and walked away.

Walburga didn't even look at him, walking past him with his chin slightly raised and his eyes looking straight ahead.

More people came, this time two: an old wizard with gray hair and a younger one. Both were wearing dark blue robes, Regulus didn't recognize the family crest on their chests.

"Mr. Black," the old wizard's voice trembled slightly, his tone unsteady, "I am Gregory Simcoe, this is my son Mikhail, we are..."

"Mr. Simcoe," Orion's tone was still not particularly warm, but he added a couple more points than before, "Your family handled the matter in the Celtic Sea quite well last time."

The old wizard gave a genuine smile and nodded several times.

Simcoe's son, Mikhail, turned to Regulus and Sirius, glancing at his father before speaking, and then said, "Hello, Mr. Black."

Regulus nodded. "Hello."

Sirius nodded, his face expressionless.

Mikhail said nothing more and followed his father.

After they had walked a distance, Walburga remarked, "Such a sensible little family."

No one responded, Black family continued walking.

Two or three more groups of people came up to greet him on the way. The pattern was similar: the other party would take the initiative to come over, say a few words to Orion, then casually inquire about his wife and two sons before leaving.

Orion's attitude remained consistent: distant, polite, responsive to everyone, but not talk much with anyone.

Walburga kept her eyes straight ahead the entire time; her pride, her dignity, and her status did not need to be displayed in response to others.

Sirius nodded when someone approached, shook hands when someone reached out, and hummed in response when someone spoke. He did a great job.

Although his face clearly showed he didn't want to be there, every movement he made was precise.

Regulus stood beside him, maintaining the same distance as Orion —neither warm nor cold, but responsive.

He would nod when someone called him, and if someone praised his performance at school, he would say "you flatter me," but he always followed Orion's lead.

Orion said half a sentence more to someone, and he said half a sentence more to that person; Orion simply nodded to someone, and he simply nodded to that person.

Flanking the main gate of the manor are stone sculptures of Griffin. The gate is wide open, and warm light spills out from inside, illuminating the stone slabs at the entrance.

Rodolphus Lestrange stood on the right side of the Entrance Hall.

He wore a dark formal robe, with the Lestrange family crest pinned to his chest; he had a square face, high cheekbones, and a polite but not warm expression.

He is the Master of this manor, but not the protagonist tonight; he knows this, and everyone who walks through this door knows it too.

Bellatrix stood to his left.

Her long black dress trailed to her ankles, with a low neckline that revealed her collarbone. Her hair was loose, with thick, black curls cascading over her shoulders, making her face appear even smaller.

Deep-set eyes, large pupils, and dark-colored lips.

The hand she placed on Rodolphus's arm was loosely resting on his arm.

She is the face of the Lestrange family tonight.

Orion walked up the steps.

"Orion." Rodolphus extended his hand.

"Rodolphus." Orion grasped his hand, their palms touching briefly before releasing it.

Walburga released Orion's arm, a smile instantly spreading across his face.

She greeted Bellatrix, her eagerness barely concealed. "Bellatrix, the manor is beautifully decorated, thank you for your hard work."

Bellatrix smiled slightly, the curve of her lips barely moving, her eyes not following her gaze. "Auntie, you're too kind."

Walburga was still talking about the details of the arrangement, the Luminescent Moss on the stone slabs and the Silver Thread on the roof ridge, and so on.

Bellatrix listened without interrupting or responding, her expression remaining unchanged.

Then Bellatrix turned to Orion, her smile fading, not suddenly turning cold, but simply becoming serious.

Bellatrix looked directly into Orion's eyes. "Uncle."

Orion nodded. "Bellatrix."

Their eyes met briefly before they looked away.

Regulus walked up the steps.

"Bellatrix," he said, with a slight hint of politeness, but not much, "Rodolphus."

Rodolphus reached out and shook his hand.

Neither warm nor cold, without a trace of unnecessary formality, far less enthusiastic than the time at the Malfoy family: "Regulus."

Then Bellatrix took a step forward, snatched Regulus's right hand that he hadn't yet retracted, and clenched it tightly with all five fingers, much more forceful than normal in a social situation.

"Regulus, my dear cousin," Bellatrix licked her lips, a wide smile curving her face, her voice laced with laughter, but her eyes held no warmth, "You've learned a lot at school."

"There are some things I want to talk to you about after dinner," Bellatrix said, her eyes fixed on him, her large, dark pupils contracting. "Your cousin has a lot to say to you." Regulus didn't move, nor did he pull his hand away, letting her hold it, his expression unchanged from beginning to end.

He met Bellatrix's gaze. "I'm looking forward to it."

Then he pulled his hand back, and Bellatrix's fingers slid across the back of his hand, her nails lightly scraping as she released it.

Regulus turned to look at Rodolphus, and the two nodded to each other.

Rodolphus stood to the side, watching from beginning to end.

The Black family's affairs have always been the Black family's affairs.

Bellatrix has married into the family. Rodolphus knows very well that this woman carries the Lestrange surname, but what she has in her mind has nothing to do with the Lestrange family.

She does whatever she wants without ever asking for his opinion, and he can't offer any advice.

Whatever Mars might fly between her and her younger cousin tonight was none of the Lestrange family's business; he simply stood at the door greeting guests. He shifted his gaze to the next guest approaching, extending his hand. "Good evening."