Sending You Far Away

In the spring of 1966, Regulus turned five.

In the Black family, five meant the beginning of formal education.

At three o'clock every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon, Walburga held lessons on family Glory in the small Study.

A massive Black family Tree Tapestry hung on the wall, stretching from ceiling to floor. Golden and silver threads embroidered a thousand years of marriage alliances across its dark fabric.

Monday was genealogy.

"Look here," Walburga said, pointing her slender Ebony teaching cane at the top of the Tapestry. "Linfred Black, a healer from the 12th Century, the recognized Ancestor of our family..."

Regulus sat in a hardwood chair with his hands on his knees, his gaze following the cane.

"Regulus, repeat what I just said." Walburga's voice pulled him back.

"From 1578 to 1623, the Black family married into the Rosier family four times and the Fli family three times, interspersed with marriages to the Crouch and Travers families, forming a stable structure," Regulus answered smoothly.

Walburga nodded in satisfaction and turned to Sirius. "And you?"

Sirius squirmed in his chair. "Who can remember all that? They're all dead people's names!"

"They are your Ancestors!"

"Dead is dead," Sirius muttered.

Walburga's face darkened as she was about to lose her temper, but Regulus spoke up in time. "Mother, I have a question."

"Speak."

"Why did we only marry within the Sacred Twenty-Eight Pureblood families after the 14th Century?" Regulus pointed at an earlier section of the Tapestry. "It shows that between the 12th and 14th Centuries, the Black family married into the Pruitt, Macmillan, and even Bones families, but that stopped afterward."

Walburga's expression stiffened for a moment. "Because those families fell into decline."

"How did they decline?"

"They began accepting Muggle-borns and even marrying Muggles." Walburga's voice sharpened. "Their bloodlines were polluted. The Black family must remain pure. That is our responsibility."

"But the Pruitt family is still on the Sacred Twenty-Eight list," Regulus pointed out.

"That is a compromise! A foolish list from the Ministry of Magic!" Walburga's cane struck the Tapestry, making several Portraits shrink back in fright. "True Pureblood families are growing fewer and fewer. We are the last beacon in a defiled world."

It was incredibly narrow-minded, though understandable. In a world where Magic was hereditary, bloodlines did matter. But to attribute everything to bloodlines was far too simplistic.

Regulus glanced at Sirius, knowing his brother was destined not to accept this theory. That was fine.

A thought suddenly surfaced. Perhaps Sirius leaving the Black family would be better for him.

The thought startled Regulus himself, but on closer consideration, the logic was perfectly sound.

The Black family would side with The Dark Lord in the future, except for Sirius and Andromeda.

If Sirius was destined to resist, then he should leave sooner, join the opposing side as early as possible, and perhaps have a better chance of surviving the future war.

As for himself, Regulus Black, this identity was destined to be drawn into darkness.

He needed the Black family's resources, the status of a Pureblood, and access to the Death Eaters' inner circle to acquire knowledge.

He and Sirius were walking two paths that would inevitably oppose each other.

Wednesday was the lesson on blood superiority.

"Muggles are incomplete creatures." Walburga paced through the Study, as she always did when impassioned. "They have no Magic, like birds without Wings or Fish without gills. They are failures of evolution."

Sirius raised his hand. Regulus had taught him to do that, to raise his hand when questioning Mother during lessons rather than directly contradicting her.

"Speak."

"But Muggles can build airplanes," Sirius said. "Airplanes can fly. They can fly without Wings."

Walburga sneered. "A clumsy imitation. They use metal and fuel, make an awful racket, pollute the air. A wizard's Flying Broomstick is elegant, quiet, and environmentally friendly."

"But airplanes can fly higher, faster, and carry more people," Regulus added calmly.

The room fell silent. Walburga stared at her Second son. "Are you defending Muggles?"

"I am stating facts," Regulus said. "Mother, if we truly are superior to Muggles, then we should surpass them in every respect.

If we can only comfort ourselves by saying Magic is more elegant, while they surpass us in speed, payload, and altitude, then who is truly superior?"

Sirius sucked in a breath, waiting for Mother to explode.

But Walburga did not explode. She stood there stunned, her lips moving without a word coming out.

Regulus continued, "Perhaps the issue is not who is superior, but what we choose to develop. Muggles develop technology, while we develop Magic.

But if we remain stagnant, clinging only to our traditions while Muggle technology keeps advancing, then one day the gap will become too great to ignore."

"The Ministry of Magic has the International Statute of Secrecy..." Walburga's tone weakened slightly.

"The International Statute of Secrecy rests on the assumption that Muggles will not discover us," Regulus said. "But what if one day, Muggle technology can detect Magic?

What if they invent instruments that can see through the Disillusionment Charm? What if we are still arguing over blood purity while they can already break the Muggle-Repelling Charm?"

Walburga remained silent for a long time before finally saying, "That will be all for today."

She hurried away.

Sirius leaned closer and whispered, "You scared her."

"Perhaps." Regulus hopped down from the hardwood chair. "But someone had to tell the truth."

"Why are you speaking up for Muggles?" Sirius asked curiously.

"I wasn't speaking up for Muggles." Regulus looked at him. "I just hate lies. If we are truly strong, we do not need to prove it by putting others down."

Sirius nodded, seeming to understand but not entirely.

At dinner, Walburga brought up the latest news she had heard. "Nott's daughter actually wants to marry a Mudblood! Mr. Nott was so furious that he locked her in a tower. Apparently, he intends to send her to a convent in France and keep her there for the rest of her life."

Sirius had been cutting his Steak, but his knife and fork stopped at those words.

"Why?" he asked. "She likes him, doesn't she?"

"Likes him?" Walburga looked as though she had heard the most absurd word imaginable. "Can liking someone feed you? Can it keep a bloodline pure? She has simply lost her senses!"

"But if two people like each other—"

"Shut up!" Walburga's voice turned shrill. "Sirius, how many times have I warned you? Do not pollute your mind with those filthy Muggle notions! A member of the Black family must have responsibility! Must have commitment!"

"Responsibility means imprisoning your own daughter?" Sirius shot to his feet, his chair scraping backward with a piercing sound. "Responsibility means tearing apart two people who love each other?"

"She does not love him! She was merely—"

"How do you know?" Sirius shouted back. "You are not her! You do not even know that person!"

Orion set down his knife and fork. "Sirius, sit down."

"I won't!" Sirius's eyes had turned red. "It isn't fair! Why can't we choose the people we like? Why must we marry someone from the Sacred Twenty-Eight? I don't know any of those people on that list! Maybe I won't like any of them at all!"

Walburga rose as well, her wand already slipping into her hand. "Say that again!"

Regulus watched the scene in utter speechlessness. Sirius's rebellious nature was on full display at this moment. Even though he did not truly understand what love was, he opposed this all the same.

And Mother only knew how to suppress him, forcing Sirius to accept her Pureblood ideals.

"Mother." Regulus's voice was calm. "What Sirius means is that feelings are one of the important factors in choosing a partner.

But from the perspective of family continuation, bloodline stability is indeed a priority. Perhaps the two can be balanced. For example, choosing someone you like from within the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

Walburga paused, her anger easing slightly. "Of course... If they are within an appropriate range, feelings would be better."

But Sirius stared at his brother, hurt in his eyes. "You're speaking for them too? You think bloodlines matter more than liking someone too?"

"I am talking about reality." Regulus met his gaze. "The reality is that the Black family will not accept Muggle-borns. Those who resist will be disowned. You must choose to accept the Rules or leave."

Sirius understood. He looked at his brother, then at his parents, and suddenly smiled.

He turned and left the dining room. He did not slam the door or make a fuss; he simply walked away quietly.

Orion said nothing. He merely looked at Regulus, his expression complicated.

Dinner continued in silence.