I Don't Care

Regulus's gaze fell on Bellatrix's face, his eyes devoid of any other emotion.

There was no smugness, no mockery, no contempt, no sense of superiority from winning, and no trace of restraint or tension.

It's the expression of finishing one insignificant task and then moving on to the next.

He met Bellatrix's gaze, his tone calm and even gentle. "Bellatrix, you ask me what I care about?"

Bellatrix's right eye twitched.

Regulus took a step forward, stepping on a broken tile, the gravel crunching beneath his feet.

"I appreciate that Dark Lord's kindness."

Bellatrix was a little surprised, raising her eyebrows; she hadn't expected him to say that.

She thought he would remain silent, or throw out some nonsense like, "It's just a casual remark," or "My cousin is well-informed."

But he said he cared.

A glint flashed in her eyes, as if she were judging whether something was true or false.

Regulus took another step. "The Black family's Toujours Pur, I care."

Bellatrix's lips closed.

She looked at Regulus, her expression unchanged, but the corners of her upturned eyes drooped slightly.

These are the two sentences she wants to hear.

She even felt that her earlier words had worked; after all, she was Black family child and knew what she should care about.

So, was he just throwing a tantrum during this match?

This thought only lasted for a moment.

"But the smell of the letter in your hand," Regulus continued walking, taking another step, "I don't care."

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed back.

"How you choose your words," Regulus took another step. "I don't care."

Her gaze changed, turning into a dangerous silence; she already knew what he was about to say.

"Your advice," Regulus continued, without stopping, "I don't care."

A strange expression began to appear on Bellatrix's face. She still had a smile on her lips, but the muscles in her jaw were twitching, alternating between the left and right sides, which she couldn't suppress.

You think I'm disrespectful, arrogant, and provocative.

He paused, his gaze fixed on Bellatrix's face, and didn't look away.

I don't care.

He walked to a spot two meters away from her and stopped. He could smell the gunpowder on her.

"Your performance," he said, "I don't care."

Bellatrix's chest rose and fell slightly, her ribcage expanding outwards with each breath before shrinking back in.

The smile was still on her face, but it had become something else, as if it had been Transfiguration by emotions that exceeded her tolerance threshold.

Her lips were stretched wide, trembling, revealing her teeth, and her eyes were smiling, but the corners of her eyes were uncontrollably slanting upwards. Looking at her like this, Regulus's expression relaxed slightly, and there was something genuine in his eyes that seemed completely at odds with what he had just said.

"Cousin, if you want to continue, let's continue."

He switched his wand from his right hand to his left, then extended his right hand, palm up, fingers naturally spread, and held it out to Bellatrix.

"If you don't want to, we can sit down and have a proper talk."

The Banquet Hall fell completely silent.

Even the candles that were still burning seemed to be suppressed by some force; their flames instantly shrank to the size of a fingernail.

Regulus stood there, hand outstretched, a gentle expression on his face. Behind him lay a scene of devastation, and in front of him stood his cousin, covered in wounds. His hand hovered steadily, seemingly without any other meaning, as if he were genuinely offering her a way out, as if he were truly saying, "We can sit down and talk."

This hurt Bellatrix more than everything he had said before combined.

Because the meaning of that hand gesture was very clear: you are no longer a problem; what follows is a matter between relatives.

Bellatrix looked at the hand; it was the same hand he had used to blast her away, and now it was reaching out.

Family affection.

reconciliation.

Let's have a good chat.

Her gaze moved from his fingertips to his palm, from his palm to his wrist, and from his wrist to his face.

His face showed no malice, only sincerity.

This is the most critical part.

Bellatrix laughed again, the sound forced out from deep in her throat, hoarse and accompanied by a series of irregular tremors, before rising into a hoarse, loud laugh.

She tilted her head back, her curly hair falling from her shoulders, revealing red marks on the side of her neck from the rubble during the battle.

Laughter echoed and shattered in the empty Banquet Hall.

Then she straightened up, stopped laughing, but the corners of her mouth were still twitching.

"Regulus."

She called his name, her voice not loud, but each syllable was pronounced with great force.

"Regulus."

It called out again, this time slower than before, with the syllables drawn out and the final sound rising.

"Regulus"

The third repetition was drawn out even longer, the sound grinding from the chest, each syllable trembling.

She tilted her head to look at him, twirling her wand between her fingers, her eyes shining strangely.

Regulus's hand was still outstretched, and he didn't retract it, nor did his expression change.

Bellatrix took a step forward, stepping on the gravel, her shoe scraping against a broken piece of silver candlestick with a harsh screech.

She raised her hand, her fingers touching the back of his hand, her fingertips gently tracing across the back of his hand, from the base of his fingers to the tip, as slowly as if she were caressing something fragile.

Then she tightened her grip on his fingers, pressed down, and pushed his hand back.

"Let's have a proper chat?" Her voice was breathy, as if she were savoring the words: "You hit me, hurt me, threw me off the ground, and then you reach out your hand to have a proper chat?"

She released his fingers, took a half step back, twirled the wand in her hand, and a wisp of extremely thin white smoke rose from the tip of the wand.

She asked with an almost gentle curiosity, "What makes you think that's all I'm capable of?"

She didn't say anything more.

Orion knew Regulus better than anyone else; just hearing him call out "Bellatrix" told him what was going to happen next. He glanced in the direction of Narcissa and Lucius, his lips moving slightly, but no sound came out.

Narcissa was stunned for a moment, but Lucius reacted first.

He glanced at the distance between the two people in the center of the arena, then at the wisp of white smoke at the tip of Bellatrix's wand. He tucked the wand back into the Snake-headed Staff, put his arm around Narcissa's waist, and walked toward Orion.

Narcissa realized that Regulus was not only winning, but he was also continuing to provoke Bellatrix, choosing the most provocative methods to irritate her.

They knew Bellatrix's abilities; Narcissa had heard about them, but Lucius had witnessed them firsthand—he'd seen Bellatrix in action. The scene to unfold was going to be big, so getting close was the right thing to do. With Orion around, at least they wouldn't get involved.

In a fight of this level, getting too close can really cause injury.

Lucius led Narcissa to Orion's side, holding the Snake-headed Staff in his hand and planting it on the ground.

His gaze remained fixed on the center of the field, his eyes narrowed, and his mind raced.

The Heir of the Black family, only twelve years old, beat Bellatrix up like this and still spoke so infuriatingly.

It's impossible to tell what this person will become in the future, but he can at least be sure of one thing: this generation of the Black family is different. Sirius also came over, standing against the wall to Orion's left, already trembling with excitement.

He knew Regulus was formidable.

He had watched Regulus and Orion spar in the Training Room, and even after half a year, there were still many things he didn't understand. He was there when Regulus used Spatial Transfiguration, watching the air in front of him twist into another shape, and he thought that was the most outrageous thing he had ever seen.

Needless to say, the time Regulus beat him was a solid, unforgettable blow.

But the scene before me was different from the Training Room.

Bellatrix's every spell seemed designed to kill; rubble flew, flames raged, and the Banquet Hall was reduced to a mangled mess. Regulus fought her for several rounds without faltering, his movements unwavering, his expression unchanged, before a single spell blasted her away. This was a true Dark Wizard; Regulus was completely dominating her.

Sirius could accept that Regulus was stronger than him; he had already accepted it long ago, so it wasn't a problem.

But to be strong enough to send Bellatrix flying is still a bit of an exaggeration.

Just a little bit.

He can too.

after.

Rodolphus glanced at Rababstan, who was still huddled behind the stone pillar, and then at the two men facing off in the center of the arena.

He raised a finger and moved it, and a House-elf appeared out of thin air at Rababstan's feet, its slender fingers touching his trouser leg. Before Rababstan could even open his mouth, with a snap, both of them vanished.

Rodolphus was still standing by the door frame, his face expressionless.

He glanced at the spot where Rababstan had disappeared, then looked back at the center of the arena.

He didn't leave; he wanted to finish watching.

Bellatrix made her move, slamming her wand into the ground, Magic Power flowing from the tip into the earth.

The broken paving stones beneath her feet began to twist and curl up at the edges, like a piece of paper scorched by fire, coiling from all sides toward the center. The rubble and paving stones stuck together, stretched, and joined, transforming in a second into a stone snake more than seven meters long, with muscle lines and scale-like texture, its entire body writhing on the ground, preparing to charge forward.

The snake raised its head, its stone eye sockets were empty, and its mouth was open, revealing sharp stone teeth.

Bellatrix pointed her wand at Regulus, and the stone serpent shot out.

At the same time, she drew an arc in the air with her other hand, and the wall on the left side of the Banquet Hall, which had not yet completely collapsed, began to soften.

The surface of the stone bricks became sticky as if heated, and they peeled off the wall piece by piece. Instead of falling down, they hung in mid-air, enveloped by her Magic Power, and were squeezed toward Regulus.

Attacked from both sides: snakes on the ground and a cluster of shattered stone walls closing in from the air.

Regulus pointed his wand at the ground where the stone serpent had passed, and gently touched it.

When the stone snake crawled over that spot, the ground beneath its belly changed.

The surface of the floor tiles became extremely smooth in an instant, with friction almost reaching zero.

The lower half of the stone snake slipped, and the entire snake's trajectory veered three feet to the right. The snake's head was still pointing at him, but its body had twisted into an unnatural angle, and most of its force had dissipated.

He stepped to the side, and the stone snake grazed past his Left Arm, crashing into a stone pillar behind him that was already half broken, shattering into more than a dozen pieces. The fragments of the stone wall in the air were still pressing down on him.

Without looking up, he flicked his wand upwards, altering the internal structure of the largest of the fragments. The stress distribution within the stone changed, concentrating the originally evenly stressed structure at a single point.

The stone split open on its own during flight.

After splitting in two, it blocked the path of the next few stones. The stones collided with each other in mid-air, completely disrupting their direction.

Some hit the ground, some flew to the corner of the wall, but none landed on Regulus's head.