Finished, Going Home

The process of containing the Fiendfyre is much slower than its release.

The out-of-control Fiendfyre has a tendency to Main Consciousness. It's easy to get it out, but it takes a lot of effort to bring it back. It wants to keep burning; destruction is the sole purpose of its existence. To make it stop is to let it die.

Regulus's will pushed outward along the connection with Fiendfyre, guiding the destructive impulses back, peeling away layer by layer the autonomous tendencies that had arisen after spiraling out of control.

The Dragon first shrank, folding its wings and shrinking its body. It flew over from a distance, shrinking into a Fire Serpent, Fire Serpent then shrank further into a flame the size of a fist.

The Giant Serpent followed suit, pulling its body out of the ruins, coiling up, shrinking, becoming a burning rope, which then shrank further and merged into the flames. Chimera returned last, its six legs still kicking reluctantly, but was held down by Regulus's will and forcibly compressed.

It went from having six legs to four, then four to two, and finally became a ball of fire, merging with the two that had been there before.

The flame flickered twice in his palm, then transformed into a small bird the size of a fist.

The Fiendfyre Bird tilted its head and let out a shriek, still as unpleasant as ever—sharp, dry, and utterly unlike a normal bird call. Poof, it went out.

The warmth in my palm dissipated, leaving nothing behind.

Regulus looked around; there was nothing left.

Where the Fiendfyre, the stone had turned into vitrified black slag, leaving a layer of charred crust on the ground, reflecting a dark light when the moonlight shone on it. After the Structural Solidification Charm was completely stripped away, the granite softened, melted, and cooled, turning into a pile of irregularly shaped black lumps that lay at the foundation.

The walls were gone, the roof was gone, the columns were gone, the Entrance Hall was gone, and the dome of the Banquet Hall had become a shallow pit in the ground, the bottom of which was full of molten slag. Only half of the foundation of the West Wing Tower remained, and only two column bases half-buried in the scorched earth remained of the East Porch.

If we were to rebuild on the original site, we probably wouldn't need to rebuild the foundation. However, if we were to build on a foundation that had been Fiendfyre, the structural strength would be affected. Fiendfyre not only burns matter, but it also burns Magic.

In short, Lestrange Manor is gone.

The windows that were lit up, the Corridor that was bathed in warm light, the Banquet Hall with its Crystal chandeliers—all of them are gone.

From glory to ruin, a family dispute stood in between.

The moonlight shone down from above, falling on the scorched earth and molten slag. The wind blew from the direction of the collapse, evaporating all the moisture in the air. Breathing it in made my throat feel dry and astringent, without any burnt smell, only dryness.

Regulus stood there for a moment, then walked outside.

After taking a few steps, Orion came in from outside, and the father and son met at the boundary between the moonlight and the ruins.

Orion's first action was to look at him, scanning him from head to toe.

The Fiendfyre had just died down, the ruins were still hot, and the charred crust crunched underfoot.

Regulus had been inside for far too long; the fire had burned so badly and he still hadn't come out. Orion came in to check on him.

Then he saw Regulus walking out, already back to his original self—calm, composed, and no different from before entering the manor. He just looked somewhat tired, his face paler than usual, and there were slight dark circles around his eyes.

Orion walked over, asking nothing—no questions about Fiendfyre Blaze, no questions about where Bellatrix had gone, no questions about what he had been doing inside all this time. He reached out and patted Regulus's shoulder hard, his palm lingering on the shoulder for a moment.

Regulus nodded without saying anything.

Orion turned and walked out, with Regulus following.

Moonlight shone on the lawn outside the manor, and Regulus glanced back as he walked out.

When I arrived, the manor was intact, with stone walls, iron fences, and Magic maintained lights, showcasing the heritage of Pureblood families for over two hundred years. It had all the grandeur one would expect.

Now, all that spot is left is a patch of uneven, black ruins. Even the iron fence is Transfiguration, bent by the heat Radiation, and stands crookedly at the edge of the lawn.

Narcissa and Lucius stood at the edge of the lawn.

Narcissa's face was a little pale, and she was standing unsteadily, her center of gravity slightly leaning towards Lucius's side, her fingers resting on his arm.

Lucius, leaning on his Snake-headed Staff, stood upright. Seeing Regulus emerge from the ruins, he nodded, maintaining a degree of composure. Sirius leaned against a tree, arms crossed.

Upon seeing Regulus emerge, he leaned forward, his foot already stepping out, then stopped.

He pulled his foot back and leaned against the tree trunk again, this time more firmly than before, as if using the tree to support himself. His gaze was fixed on Regulus, unblinking. Walburga stood next to Narcissa, watching Regulus walk out, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

She was probably the most affected by today's events. She wanted to ask Regulus if he was injured, whether Bellatrix was alive or dead, who set off the Fiendfyre, and who put it away.

But she only moved her lips twice, without making a sound.

Regulus had switched back to his normal self; his voice, expression, posture, and the look in his eyes were all back to normal. He looked at Narcissa first.

"Sorry, Cousin Narcissa." He walked over, his tone filled with sincere apology.

The apology was genuine. He and Narcissa were close, and he truly felt bad that she had been so frightened tonight. "I'm sorry you were frightened."

Narcissa looked at him, her lips trembled, she didn't speak, and her eyes reddened.

Then she hesitated, opened her mouth, closed it again, opened it again, and said tentatively, her voice tinged with a cautious tone, "Bellatrix."

The Dark Lord who tortured Bellatrix, the Dark Lord who made Bellatrix scream, the Dark Lord who laughed as Bellatrix struggled, and the person who is now standing in front of her apologizing—it's the same person.

She wasn't sure how she should face those two faces.

"He was taken away," Regulus nodded, his tone calming and his expression relaxing. "Alive."

Narcissa understood what being taken away meant; it was obvious who could take Bellatrix away at a time like this.

Her expression changed slightly, her lips trembled, but she didn't press the matter.

Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly.

That Dark Lord came in person, came, and left, which means that Dark Lord witnessed everything that happened tonight. He glanced at Regulus out of the corner of his eye; the man was standing there unharmed, indicating that the Dark Lord had no intention of pursuing the matter, or rather, that the pursuit was not directed at Regulus.

Before he could even relax his squinting gaze, Orion's eyes swept over from the side, light and emotionless, but his gaze landed precisely on Lucius's face and paused for a moment.

Lucius's eyes relaxed and returned to normal.

"Tonight's events need to be handled properly," Lucius, looking at Regulus with a polite tone.

He tapped his Snake-headed Staff lightly on the ground. "If it's convenient, the Malfoy family will pay a visit to Grimmauld Place."

His words were full of promises to help. The Wizengamot's side of the story, the Ministry of Ministry of Magic's characterization, and the Pure-blood Circle's stance—these clean-up tasks needed to be done, and the Malfoy family was willing to participate.

But its essence is investment.

Bellatrix was beaten to a pulp by a twelve-year-old Black, Lestrange Manor was burned to the ground, Dark Lord himself came to take Bellatrix away, but made no move against the Black family.

With all this information combined, Lucius Malfoy was already recalculating the Black family's importance within the Pure-blood Circle. Approaching them proactively at this point was far more shrewd than obsequious; betting early meant lower costs and higher returns.

Regulus nodded and replied succinctly, "The Black family is always welcome."

He glanced at Narcissa, his eyes catching sight of Lucius's hand supporting Narcissa.

"Go back and get some rest, cousin. Tonight shouldn't have turned out like this."

Narcissa nodded, her eyes still red. She loosened her grip on Lucius's arm and tried to come over, but stopped as soon as she leaned out. Her fingers then went back to him, this time a little tighter.

Sirius didn't say a word the whole time.

He leaned against the tree, watching Regulus, Narcissa, Lucius talk.

His brother spoke in that polite tone and with the same polite words as at the table in Grimmauld Place, as in Professor McGonagall's office, and as he always did when he saw Regulus.

This is what makes him most uneasy.

If Regulus had emerged with that cracked state from before, he would have known what to do.

He rushed up to him, grabbed him by the collar, and demanded to know what had happened and what that thing had done to him.

But Regulus was exactly the same as usual.

Where did that the Dark Lord go?

Where did that person go—the one who smiled and cast spells on Bellatrix, who lay on the ground, one after another, causing her to scream in agony, with eyes that shone strangely and an aura that made people want to back away?

Same as last time in the Training Room.

He felt the same way when Orion and Regulus played that match in the Training Room.

A figure moving at high speed, eyes so calm they didn't look like those of an eleven-year-old, and the final moment when darkness descended.

Then the battle ended, and Regulus stood there, reverting to his former self as the slow, composed, and debonair younger brother.

He couldn't tell the difference.

Last time, I couldn't tell the difference between Regulus in battle and Regulus in everyday life.

This time it's more serious.

Is the Regulus we just saw the same Regulus who is now standing on the lawn apologizing to Narcissa?

If it's the same person, which one is real?

Was the previous one real, and this one is fake?

Is this the real one, and the one from before was just an act?

If what I just did was an act, who was it for? Who was that act meant for? What was the purpose?

If what happened just now was real, then when did Regulus become like that? Or has he always been like that, but he just doesn't know it? I can't tell, I really can't tell.

He felt his mind was a mess and his heart was heavy.

He wanted to ask, but he couldn't ask here; Narcissa was there, Lucius was there, Orion and Walburga were there too.

Let's talk about it when we get home, or when we get back to Hogwarts.

He clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly, but in the end, he said nothing.

The Black family Apparition and disappeared.