Harmony Brings Prosperity
The door to the Room of Requirement closed behind him, Regulus didn't go straight back to his Dormitory, but walked west along the Corridor.
There were few people in the Corridor at this hour; the torches burned quietly, casting his shadow on the stone wall.
The Owlery is located on the West Tower. After going around three Spiral Staircase and pushing open the crooked wooden door, a strange stench mixed with dead rats and bird droppings hits you.
At 9:30 p. m., owls are at their noisiest.
Dozens or even hundreds of them huddled in the grooves of the wooden beams and stone walls. Some had just returned from hunting, with field mice still clinging to their paws, while others were darting out of the windows, their wings flapping loudly.
Two barn owls were flapping their wings at each other over the position of a wooden beam, while several Tawny Owl perched on the top beam watching the commotion, their round faces turning back and forth, emitting monotonous cooing sounds.
A Eagle Owl was dozing in the corner when it was woken up by a wing flap of Scops Owl next to it. Staring with its large orange eyes, it looked around, but not finding the one that had hit it, it closed its eyes again.
Regulus walked to the stone table by the window of the shed, took out a parchment from the inner pocket of his robe, and then picked up a feather to turn it into a quill pen.
There was an ink bottle embedded in the wall on the stone table. It contained communal ink; the ink was grayish in color, but it was usable.
The letter to Orion was brief, written with just a couple of dips in ink, in a few lines.
"Father:
We discussed this at home before, and I'm planning to leave this Saturday. I need to take some time off work, so please help me arrange the travel documents.
"Regulus"
After finishing writing, he blew the ink dry, folded the envelope, put it in the envelope, took out a small copper stamp from the inner pocket, and stamped it on the sealing wax.
The family owl has already stretched out its claws and is waiting.
A European Eagle Owl, dark brown all over, with a wingspan twice as wide as that of an ordinary owl, thick and fluffy breast feathers, and ear tufts standing tall.
It crouched on the Stone Platform, its posture upright, its head slightly tilted, its two large amber eyes fixed on Regulus without moving, its head turning slightly in sync with his hand.
The owls around it were still making a ruckus, but it was completely unaffected, remaining calm and composed, clearly not in the same league as the other owls.
Regulus tied the letter to the Eagle Owl's leg, Eagle Owl owl spread its wings and darted out the window, disappearing into the night in the blink of an eye.
He turned and walked out, went out of the shed, went down the stairs, went down half a flight of stairs, stopped, thought for a moment, and then turned back.
On the stone table, he spread out the parchment again and wrote another letter.
This letter to Walburga is not about the important matters.
"Mother:
Mother is well. The weather has warmed up recently, and the ice on the lake at Hogwarts has mostly melted, while the trees along the Forbidden Forest are beginning to sprout.
Last week in Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall praised me, saying that my theoretical derivation was more complete than that of most sixth-grade students. Those were her exact words.
Potions Class was alright. Professor Slughorn always said I had talent, and he would stuff Candied Pineapple into my hand every time class ended. I've refused many times, but the professor never seems to stop.
I usually eat well and sleep well, but I get a bit tired of drinking too much Pumpkin Juice. The House-elf at Hogwarts aren't as good at cooking as Kreacher.
Mother, please take good care of yourself. Don't take off your clothes too quickly as the weather gets warmer.
"Regulus"
After finishing writing it, I read it over. It reads like a letter a proper little wizard would write home—daily, trivial, and lighthearted.
Regulus folded the paper, but didn't stamp it with the heir's seal; he simply sealed it with ordinary wax.
Another family owl flew over, with the same temperament as the first one. It was a long-eared owl, slightly smaller, with light gray and pale brown plumage, and its ear tufts stood upright. It was a female.
Its golden eyes gleamed with intelligence. It crouched on the edge of the Stone Platform, its paws resting on the edge, waiting quietly.
He tied the letter securely, and the long-eared owl silently spread its wings, flew through the window, and disappeared into the night.
My mother has changed; she's been changing ever since the Christmas Banquet.
She used to treat him like a medal, always talking about him and showing off to other Pure-bloods ladies. She would mention my youngest son to everyone she met, her eyes full of fanaticism.
But that fanaticism had nothing to do with him as a person; she only cared about the beliefs she held.
Now she's not like that anymore; she's starting to carefully learn how to be a normal mother.
Regulus could see she was trying, clumsy, and awkward, but she had begun, and that was good.
Transformation requires positive feedback.
The basic principle of behavioral psychology is that to make a behavior continue, you should give it a positive response when it occurs.
When a mother begins to act like a mother, he begins to act like a son.
Every time she tried to be a normal mother, he would only give her a small response.
Write a letter, talk about everyday life, let her know that her son is eating and sleeping well at school, carefree, just like any ordinary child writing a letter to their mother.
A harmonious family brings prosperity; this principle applies everywhere.
The next morning, at 12 Grimmauld Place.
The fireplace in the restaurant burned with green flames, the long table was covered with a dark green tablecloth, and the candles on the silver candlesticks had been lit since early morning.
At opposite ends of the long table, Walburga and Orion sat, with a whole table of breakfast in between.
Smoked salmon is sliced thinly and arranged on Porcelain Plates. Fried eggs and bacon on a silver plate are still steaming. The toast rack is neatly arranged, jam jars are lined up, and a wisp of white steam floats above the teapot.
The restaurant was eerily quiet, save for the soft clinking of cutlery against Porcelain Plates and the crackling of the flames.
Orion had today's the Daily Prophet spread out beside him, the front page headline reading. "New Director of Justice at the Ministry of Magic Proposes Expanding Dementor Patrol Areas."
The accompanying photo was blurry, showing a middle-aged male wizard in a striped suit forcing a stiff smile in front of the camera.
He glanced at the headline, uninterested, flipped to the international edition, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.
Walburga was quietly spreading orange marmalade on his toast across from him.
She wore a dark gray loungewear today, and her movements were as elegant as usual.
Kreacher appeared silently beside Orion, holding a silver platter high in his hands, his body bent over, his nose almost touching the floor.
Its voice trembled with excitement. "The Master, a letter from the young the Master!"
On the plate lay a letter, in a dark envelope, sealed with Regulus's personal seal.
Walburga paused for a moment, the back of his knife striking the edge of the Porcelain Plates.
Her gaze drifted from the plate to the letter, lingered for a moment, then returned to her work, continuing to spread marmalade on her toast as if nothing had happened.
Orion noticed, but said nothing, picked up the letter and opened it.
The letter contained only a few lines and seemed ordinary, but he understood it at a glance.
Regulus had spoken with him in the Study after returning from the Malfoy family, following the incident at the Werewolf camp.
I need to find Dumbledore, about Werewolf, about souls, about the new things he encountered on his journey.
Three weeks passed, and there was still no news. He assumed his son was still considering it.
The letter has arrived; I need to prepare to leave and arrange for leave.
He put the letter aside, picked up the newspaper, and opened it again.
Regulus's absence from school for a short period is fine, but if it lasts a week or two, someone will definitely notice.
There were quite a few people in Slytherin keeping an eye on him. Several of the older students already had Dark Mark on their arms; he knew of at least four or five of them.
Other houses aren't necessarily clean either. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff also have Pureblood families, and it's hard to say about Gryffindor, but news travels faster than an owl among the houses.
Someone will inquire, and it's highly likely they're from the Death Eaters' side.
Those who were marked wouldn't show up directly, but there were always some who weren't quite right in the head, eager to prove their loyalty, wishing they could pass on Regulus's whereabouts to their superiors, and would run to ask their classmates, or the people around Regulus.
The Cuthbert family, the Mulciber family, and the children who followed him into the Room of Requirement.
He wasn't worried about these people. Regulus had managed to gather them around him for almost two years now. Keeping their mouths shut was the bare minimum; anyone who couldn't do that would have been weeded out long ago.
If you can't find the answer by asking, the next step is to find a professor.
Slughorn is the Slytherin Head of House; if anyone wants to inquire, they'll eventually reach him.
Then let him have Sickle say.
Write a leave of absence letter to Slughorn, with the reason readily available: family matters, location: France.
The Black family owns vineyards in the Southern France, in the heart of Provence, occupying half a hillside, and their Magical Wine are exclusively supplied to several Pureblood families in Europe.
Grapevines are also a material for wands. Those old vines have been growing for hundreds of years and have a high affinity for Magic Power, making them a raw material that Ollivander has been sourcing for a long time.
The protective Magic has been tampered with; someone is sabotaging the project, and several batches of grapevines have been contaminated. The local employees are unable to handle the situation, and a core member of the family needs to be present in person.
In the rules of Pureblood families, it is normal for the heir to be present when the property is infringed upon. This is a gesture to assert sovereignty, something every family has done, and everyone understands it.
The timing is also right, mid-March, a crucial period for the vineyards in spring. The protective Magic itself needs maintenance, so it's not surprising that problems occur during this season.
France was chosen after careful consideration.
To get there from UK, one must cross the English Channel; the Floo Network doesn't extend into France; and the Portkey must be registered with the Ministry of Magic in advance. For those who want to secretly investigate, every step leaves a trace.
France's geographical location naturally acts as a buffer, unlike Germany and Norse which are adjacent to UK and can be easily bypassed.
The Black family's France vineyards have an independent management system and employ local wizards. Arranging for Regulus to come and go there normally would be too easy for them.
The French Ministry of Magic's business registry also has complete records, and public records show that the manor is undergoing spring maintenance and protective Magic repairs.
Anyone can find out what he wants people to see, but what they find is only what he wants people to see.
As for the others, the Magical Creature Farm in Ireland is too small to be worth the heirs making a special trip for.
The Cornwall Plantation are in UK, too close to Hogwarts, to explain why people don't go back to the school.
As for India...
Regulus is too young; no matter how capable he is, he shouldn't go to a place like that.
France a reasonable timeframe, a geographical buffer, readily available cover for identity, and a plausible industrial logic.
All of this will be clearly written in the letter to Slughorn, in such detail that it can be directly repeated to anyone who asks.
This is only the first layer.