Cousin Narcissa, Don't Leave Tonight

After her speech, Bellatrix stepped back from the center of the crowd, and the noise in the banquet hall gradually returned to normal.

Some people were still gathered near where Bellatrix had stood, discussing her words in twos and threes, their voices still tinged with lingering excitement.

Some people, holding their wine glasses, moved to the edge, pulling themselves out of the earlier frenzy, wearing polite but cold smiles. Those standing on the edge began to move in, gathering in twos and threes towards the inner circle, trying to strike up a conversation.

The people in the inner circle were quite relaxed; if someone struck up a conversation, they would respond with a few words, and if no one did, they would continue chatting about their own things.

The entire Banquet Hall was arranged in a centripetal pattern, with everyone slowly moving towards the center. The closer they got, the slower their steps and the softer their voices became. "Regulus!"

Avery pushed his way through the crowd, his face beaming with excitement.

He was dressed quite smartly today, in a dark gray tuxedo with the Cuthbert family crest pinned to the collar—a soaring eagle perched on an oak branch. His hair was combed back, revealing his entire face, and he looked a bit older than he did at school.

Behind him followed a middle-aged wizard, who was rather thin with strong facial features and bore a striking resemblance to Avery.

Regulus nodded to Avery, then looked at Old Cuthbert and extended his hand. "Mr. Cuthbert."

Old Cuthbert grasped it briefly before releasing it, his tone surprisingly warm: "Has Avery caused you any trouble at school?" "We're friends, there's no reason for me to cause trouble," Regulus smiled, his expression perfectly normal, like any child being asked this by a classmate's parent.

He added, "Avery helped me a lot at school."

Old Cuthbert glanced at him a few times, then smiled and nodded, "That's good."

Avery, standing nearby, smirked slightly at the word "friend," then quickly suppressed his urge to maintain a composed demeanor. Old Cuthbert picked up his glass, took a sip, and changed the subject. "The Cuthbert family still has a few proposals pending in Wizengamot this year. I'll visit the Black family another day and have a chat with Orion."

"You're welcome anytime," Regulus said.

Old Cuthbert nodded, picked up his wine glass, and left.

Avery was left behind.

He watched his father's figure disappear into the crowd, paused for a moment, then turned to Regulus, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and elation. "Lady Lestrange is absolutely right," Avery said, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement. "Did you hear that? The New Order, the Pure-bloods Order—this is what we've been waiting for!"

Regulus, holding his sparkling water, didn't interrupt.

"My father once said at home that those people in the Ministry of Magic would be eliminated sooner or later, and the Wizarding World should be led by true wizards," Regulus said, taking a sip of water.

Avery continued talking, his voice growing louder and faster, but he was still sensible enough not to utter the word "Mudblood" to his face.

But that fervor came from the heart.

He was indeed a proponent of pure bloodlines, and the ideas and education he received from childhood reflected this: Pure-blood supremacy, Half-bloods is inferior, and Muggle are dirty. But did the Cuthbert family truly believe this?

Among the families that openly supported Voldemort, there weren't many who were truly wholeheartedly committed.

People like Bellatrix are the ones who truly dedicate themselves wholeheartedly.

He made Voldemort's cause his entire purpose, burning a mixture of Pure-bloods faith and Dark Arts worship, until in the end he burned himself up.

Most Patriarch in their Study aren't thinking about Pure-bloods glory, but rather whether the deal was worth it.

They don't shed tears for the decline of Pure-bloods before going to sleep at night; they simply side with the interests of the people.

Avery was talking, his voice booming, while Regulus looked at him, saying nothing, just listening.

In such situations, even if no one is around, he won't utter a single word of dissent.

The wall behind you is Magic.

He doesn't need to teach or correct anything; the Cuthbert family will teach their heirs themselves, explaining what Pure-bloods really means. Avery paused mid-sentence, then waved his hand vigorously, his face even more excited. "Hermes!"

Hermes and his father, Abros Mulciber, were walking over from the crowd.

Hermes wore a dark green robe, similar in style to the black robes worn at school, only made of better material and with a higher neckline.

His expression was similar to when he was getting ready to sleep in his Dormitory; his eyelids were half-closed, and the corners of his mouth were neither up nor down.

Abros stepped forward and clinked glasses with Regulus.

The two nodded to each other.

"Mr. Mulciber," Regulus said.

"Black." Abros's voice was low and hoarse. He took a sip of his drink after speaking and said nothing more.

Avery quickly greeted him, giving Abros a slight bow, somewhat reservedly. "Mr. Mulciber."

Abros nodded to him and took another sip of his drink.

Then Abros also left, carrying his wine glass towards the center of the Banquet Hall.

There are three little wizards left.

Avery, as if nothing had happened, continued the previous topic, "I think those things will definitely come true in the future; Pureblood Wizards will reclaim what belongs to us."

Hermes stood to the side, his expression as if he were looking at a wall.

Regulus held his cup, his expression blank.

Avery's voice trailed off as he spoke. He glanced at Hermes on the left and Regulus on the right, but neither face gave him any reaction. "Don't you think so?" Avery asked hesitantly.

Regulus raised his hand and patted him on the shoulder. "Go home and ask your father."

Avery opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. He closed his mouth again, looked down at his cup, and his brows gradually furrowed.

Hermes turned to Regulus: "What are you doing on your holiday?"

"And you?"

"Practice Magic," Hermes said matter-of-factly.

Regulus nodded. "Me too."

Avery's mouth opened again.

He originally wanted to say that he had a lot of things he wanted to do during the holiday, but he hadn't finished looking at the new Flying Broomstick catalog yet. He planned to buy it once he finished looking at it.

There's a Magical Circus performing Christmas shows in London, and Professor Flitwick's Duelling Chess.

But he looked at Regulus, and then at Hermes.

"Me too," Avery said, "I practice Magic."

Hermes ' lips twitched.

Regulus looked at the two of them and took a sip of water.

Then he saw Narcissa.

She stood not far away, with Lucius Malfoy beside her.

Narcissa wore a silver-grey gown that reached her ankles, with a cinched waist and a light blue tulle shawl draped over her shoulders. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders like flowing water in the candlelight, and she wore a delicate chain around her neck with a small Sapphire hanging from it. Lucius stood beside her, his platinum blonde hair particularly striking in the setting, and he wore a meticulously tailored black gown.

He held a Snake-headed Staff in his hand; the cane was jet black, and the snake's eyes were two tiny Emerald.

The two of them standing together are both good-looking and look extremely well-matched.

"I'll go over there," Regulus said to Avery and Hermes.

Avery, still thinking about going home to ask his father what he meant, nodded. Hermes, without thinking, also nodded.

Regulus walked through the crowd and stood before Narcissa.

"Cousin."

Narcissa turned her head, saw him, and her expression softened. "Regulus."

"Lucius." Regulus nodded.

Lucius raised his Staff in return, a slightly reserved smile playing on his lips, "Regulus, good evening."

The three of them walked to the side of the hall, away from the crowd.

There's no need to be so formal here.

Lucius and Narcissa were engaged, and Regulus and Narcissa were close, Lucius didn't need to maintain that Malfoy -like distance in front of Regulus.

"How is it?" Regulus asked as usual.

Lucius leaned against the wall, his Staff planted on the ground, the silver snake at the tip gleaming in the candlelight. "What else can you do in an occasion like this? Show your face, have a couple of drinks, listen to a bunch of correct nonsense, and then go home."

He glanced at the crowd in the hall, his tone disdainful. "Those who were shouting the loudest just now, how many of you do you think will remember what they shouted tomorrow?" Regulus didn't reply.

"Rodolphus has been quiet tonight," Lucius remarked casually. "Since he came in, I've only seen him speak to three people, and each time it was just a sentence or two."

Regulus simply nodded, but didn't reply.

"I heard you and Bellatrix have a falling out?" Lucius looked at him and asked directly.

Narcissa, standing nearby, frowned slightly, her gaze shifting from Lucius to Regulus: "Regulus, you know, Bellatrix is different now."

"It's not a contradiction," Regulus said casually, "Just a slight difference of opinion."

Lucius tapped his cane twice with his finger. "Because you sheltered those two Half-bloods?"

He said it outright, which didn't surprise Regulus.

This isn't a secret; anyone who wants to know can find out.

"Yes." He nodded.

Narcissa was about to say something when Regulus gave her a look, and Narcissa shut her mouth.

Lucius ignored their interaction and continued, "You are the Heir of the Black family; it can't be as simple as just providing protection. What are you using them for?"

"It started as a casual thing," Regulus said, offering only this brief statement.

Lucius understood: it started out as a matter of convenience, but later it wasn't.

He didn't ask any more questions.

"Cousin," Regulus turned to Narcissa, "Stay a while after dinner. You can talk to your Bellatrix if you need anything. It's better if you're with your own people." A hint of worry flashed in Narcissa's eyes.

She knew what had happened; Bellatrix had written to her, more than one letter.

Narcissa understood Regulus's meaning: he wanted to talk to Bellatrix with her family present so that Bellatrix wouldn't easily lash out.

"Talk to Bellatrix properly," Narcissa said, her tone clearly concerned. "You know who's behind her."

Regulus sensed this, his expression relaxed, and a smile appeared on his face, but he didn't intend to reveal his intentions immediately; a little more time wouldn't make a difference. "Cousin, I know," he said, "Don't worry, I'll have a good talk with Bellatrix."

Lucius glanced at Narcissa, then at Regulus.

"Then I'll go first," Lucius said to Narcissa, his tone softening and becoming more casual.

"Go back and prepare dinner. Don't expect to get full at this kind of party. Those salmon slices look nice in the cold mist, but they taste like chewing on ice."

Narcissa looked at him, a slight smile playing on her lips. She tightened her grip on Lucius's arm and gave a soft "Mmm."

"Lucius," Lucius called to Regulus as he was about to turn around, "You stay here too."

Lucius stopped and looked at Regulus.

His first reaction wasn't that this guy considered me family; that's something only a child would do.

Regulus may be young, but his deeds and the reputation he has earned have nothing to do with his age.

He and Narcissa exchanged a glance.

Narcissa frowned again, Lucius gently placed his hand on the back of her hand.

"Alright," Lucius said, "I'll stay."

After he finished speaking, he continued to look at Regulus, a hint of inquiry flashing in his eyes.

For the Black family to have an outsider present in their internal affairs, it either indicates a high level of trust or a need for a witness. There is trust between them, but that trust comes from Narcissa, and they both know exactly how much.

That leaves only one person: a witness.

Regulus nodded. "See you later, cousin."

He then looked at Lucius and nodded, "Lucius."

Then he walked away from Narcissa and Lucius, through the now much thinner crowd, towards Avery and Hermes. Narcissa was silent for a moment before saying, "When he said 'let's talk this out,' did you see his expression?"

Lucius looked at her.

"Too easy," Narcissa said softly. "He's always been like this; the easier things are, the more uneasy he seems."

Lucius patted her hand that was on his arm, without saying a word.

The Banquet Hall gradually emptied out.

Most of the dishes on the long table had been cleared away, and the servants were quietly tidying up. The silver candlesticks were still burning, though the flames had dimmed and the light had gone down a bit. Regulus stood in the hall and looked around.

Orion stood beside the fireplace, expressionless.

Sirius stood to Orion's left, arms crossed, looking at the floor.

Narcissa and Lucius stood on the other side of the Banquet Hall, Narcissa's arm linked with Lucius's, their expressions indistinct in the candlelight. Rodolphus stood by the doorway between the Entrance Hall and the Banquet Hall, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, looking at the people inside with no expression.

Bellatrix stood in the center of the Banquet Hall, her gaze sweeping from one face to another.

Walburga straightened her skirt and said to Orion, "That's enough, it's time to go back."

Orion didn't move.

Walburga frowned slightly. "Orion?"

"Stay a little longer," Orion said.

Walburga glanced at Orion, then at Regulus standing not far away, then at Bellatrix and Rodolphus opposite him, Narcissa and Lucius a little further away.

The expression on his face changed from confusion to bewilderment.

She knew something was about to happen, but no one told her what it was.

There was another person in the distance.

Rababstan Lestrange stood in the corner of the Banquet Hall closest to the back door, half of his body hidden behind a pillar.

The air grew quiet.