Christmas Banquet

The Main Banquet Hall is much larger than the Entrance Hall.

The buffet was set out with a long table around the wall, covered with a dark tablecloth, and silver candlesticks and plates on the table.

Magical Flames burned on the candlestick, its color shifting between warm yellow and pale gold, neither smoking nor dripping wax, its light steady. Some of the food on the plate was slowly changing; a thin layer of cool mist floated on a plate of sliced smoked salmon.

Oyster shells are arranged on crushed ice, the meat inside still trembling slightly. A silver dish of garlic Butter beside them is stirring on its own. In a bread basket nearby, several small bread rolls are automatically cutting open, revealing steaming hot slices.

Servants in dark uniforms moved among the crowd, silent and avoiding eye contact, simply taking a glass of wine from a silver tray every now and then and offering it to the empty-handed guests.

House-elf are almost invisible, only appearing from corners when tablecloths need changing or fireplace ashes need cleaning, disappearing immediately afterward. There are no assigned seats in the Banquet Hall; guests stand and converse throughout, some with wine glasses in hand and others empty-handed.

Regulus stood at the entrance to the banquet hall and glanced into the crowd.

There were probably just over a hundred guests tonight, their voices buzzing, laughter, small talk, and the clinking of glasses all mixed together.

Orion led Sirius into the hall to greet the Patriarch.

Walburga had already found her way into the ladies' circle; her dark green dress flashed and disappeared into the crowd.

Regulus took a glass of sparkling water from the servant's tray. The glass was cool, and the bubbles rose up, turning into tiny pale blue Light Point that flashed briefly at the rim before disappearing.

He took a sip; it didn't taste like much, just water with a little carbonation, but the rising light looked quite nice.

Then he went into the crowd.

"Regulus."

Lucretius Burke walked over to him, holding a wine glass.

A dark gray robe, with a Burke family crest pinned to the collar, a crossed wand and key, and an open book in the background.

It's been almost half a year since graduation, and this former Slytherin Prefect Taiyi from the Regulus remembers.

At school, Lucretius had the prima donna of a Prefect, always speaking and acting with a certain air of formality.

Now, most of that student air has disappeared, and his demeanor is more restrained than when he was a Prefect, as if he has shaved off all the unnecessary movements.

His gaze swept casually across the hall, like that of a young businessman accustomed to such occasions.

Regulus clinked glasses with him. "Lucretius."

He asked, "How is it?"

"Not bad," Lucretius said in a low voice, taking a sip of his drink.

"The Review Office has loosened up a bit recently. When that batch of goods was inspected before, we thought it would take at least six months to process, but it was suppressed in three months."

"They changed people?"

"No change in personnel, just a shift in the wind," Lucretius swirled his glass. "Someone up there gave us a heads-up, we didn't ask, but a few houses in Knockturn Alley have already moved out, and the rest are just watching."

Regulus understood.

The Burke family were still running the Knockturn Alley business, though under less pressure, but not none. They were assessing the situation and identifying allies. "The Black family' stuff in Knockturn Alley won't move," Regulus said.

Lucretius simply nodded and asked no further questions.

"Mr. Burke said that when you have time, you can go back to Borgin - Burke," Lucretius's tone lightened. "There'll be some new stuff there."

Regulus's heart skipped a beat.

The last time I visited Borgin - Burke's shop, Old Bok showed me three things in the warehouse: Cursed Box, Soul Container, and an unnamed Staff. All three were high-risk items being investigated by the Ministry of Magic. Old Bok used them to exchange for the Black family's crucial support in Wizengamot for three years. That deal was later approved by Orion, and all three items were transferred to the Black family and stored in the deepest Rune warehouse in the Basement of Grimmauld Place.

The Staff was the one that concerned him the most; he was forcibly instilling the concept of despair into him, but he hadn't had time to study it yet.

"Definitely." Regulus nodded.

Lucretius raised his glass, then turned and left.

Regulus watched his figure disappear into the crowd, then picked up his sparkling water and took a sip.

The Review Office is still active, but less so than before.

Last year, the Ministry of Magic set up a special department to investigate the circulation of Dark Arts items, which initially caused Knockturn Alley.

But now the efforts have clearly slowed down, either because someone above is blocking them, or because the Review Office itself is facing staffing and budget constraints. Either way, it shows that the Death Eaters ' infiltration of the Ministry of Magic is ongoing, step by step, quietly, purging those obstructive institutions from within, while the Burke family's position remains special.

Kara Burke, the current Patriarch, and Voldemort's first boss after graduation.

When Voldemort worked at Borgin Burke, everyone thought it was a less-than-honorable experience.

Later, Voldemort rose to power and established his own faction. The Burke family did not openly follow him, nor did Voldemort harm them.

The Burke family are not Death Eaters, but their businesses are deeply intertwined with Death Eaters.

Lucretius's presence on this occasion speaks volumes.

A voice came from the right. "Mr. Black?"

Regulus turned his head, and a wizard in his early forties walked over, wearing a brown robe and a small family crest pinned to his chest, the design of which was a bent old oak tree.

He hadn't met them, so they weren't a family worth remembering.

"Philip Wendell," the man extended his hand, smiling humbly, "the Wendell family has some property in Wiltshire, your father may have mentioned it."

Orion hadn't mentioned it, but Regulus still shook his hand.

"We've all heard about Mr. Black's exploits at Hogwarts."

Wendell's smile was very polite, "The Wendell family may be small, but it has always stood on the same side as the Black family, and that will never change." Regulus thought for a moment; this was probably referring to the Belmont family.

"Mr. Wendell, you're too kind," he said.

Wendell waited a while, but Regulus showed no sign of continuing to speak.

"Then I won't bother you any longer," Wendell said with a smile, taking a step back and raising his glass. "Have a pleasant evening."

Regulus nodded, and Wendell turned and left with satisfaction.

"Regulus."

Another voice came, this time Taiyi, and quite substantial.

Cygnus Roxier, the current Patriarch of the main branch of the Roxier family, was in his early fifties with neatly combed gray hair and fine lines around his eyes. His dark robe was embroidered with the Rosier family's signature Thorn Pattern, which shimmered faintly in the light.

He stepped out of the crowd, holding a wine glass in his hand, taking large but steady steps.

"Mr. Roxier." Regulus gave a slight bow.

Cygnus raised his glass, and without any beating around the bush, said directly, "Alex is at Hogwarts, thank you for taking care of him." "Alex is doing well at school," Regulus's tone softened, becoming more relaxed, "He's sensible and reliable, I'm very satisfied."

Cygnus raised an eyebrow.

I am very satisfied.

A twelve-year-old wizard is evaluating members of another family, speaking in a superior tone.

But he didn't correct it.

The fact that a branch of the Roxier family has produced a child working under the heir of the Black is a good thing for the main Roxier branch. This Young Black has already demonstrated abilities and prestige far beyond his years, and those who work for him will inevitably benefit in the future; it's a win-win situation.

Moreover, a child from one branch cannot represent the position of the main branch. If something happens one day, the main branch can say that it is the branch's business and has nothing to do with them. But if the Black heir really goes that far, this relationship can also become a resource for the main branch at any time.

So Cygnus came in person, which can be seen as a way of making a statement.

"I haven't paid much attention to Alex before," Cygnus said, his tone so frank it was almost unbecoming of someone in this situation. "Things at the branch office are usually too far away; if it weren't for you, I might not even be able to meet with the people there."

Regulus's heart skipped a beat.

The main branch and the sub-branch of Roxier were indeed far apart, so far that Cygnus might not have known that his family had someone like Alex. But because of him, Alex came into the main branch's view.

This method of leveraging personal relationships to shift the attention of the entire family is also a way of exerting influence on external parties.

Interestingly, Roxier seems to appear alongside both generations of Dark Lord.

Grindelwald has Venda Roxier by his side, his top confidante, key deputy, fanatical follower, and the Black Rose of France.

Voldemort also has one by his side, Evan Roxier, who graduated this year and should have already joined the Death Eaters.

Coincidentally, there was also a Roxier by his side.

In fact, the Black family and Roxier family are related.

Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa's mother, his aunt, Druella, was a Roxier before she married into the Black family.

That's how Pureblood families are; if one family marries into another's family, the other will always have some blood relation.

"Mr. Roxier, you're too kind," Regulus said. "Alex has done a very good job."

Cygnus raised his glass, the two clinked glasses, and then he turned and left.

Regulus walked to a pillar on one side of the Banquet Hall, holding a glass, and looked around the room.

In his view, the people in the hall could be roughly divided into three types.

The first type is the true core, the Patriarch of a large family; wherever they stand, that place becomes the center of the crowd.

They are relaxed and not in a hurry to talk to people, because others will take the initiative to approach them.

The second type is followers, people from medium-sized and small families.

They looked for places around the key figures, pacing back and forth with their wine glasses in hand, their eyes constantly observing who was talking to whom, and adjusting their direction accordingly.

The third type is marginal figures who are simply there to show off.

They stood by the long table, pretending to pick out food, but actually waiting for someone to strike up a conversation. Their main goal tonight was probably to avoid looking too lonely.