In the spring of 1966, Regulus turned five.
In the Black family, turning 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 Tapestry hung on the wall, stretching from ceiling to floor. Golden and silver threads embroidered a thousand years of marital alliances across its dark fabric.
Monday: genealogy.
"Look here." Walburga pointed her slender Ebony teaching wand at the top of the Tapestry. "Linfred Black, a 12th Century healer, the acknowledged founder of our family..."
Regulus sat on a hardwood chair with both hands on his knees, his gaze following the teaching wand.
"Regulus, repeat what I just said." Walburga's voice pulled him back.
"From 1578 to 1623, the Black family intermarried with 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. "What about 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 to interrupt. "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 from the 12th to the 14th century, the Black family also intermarried with the Pruitt, Macmillan, and even Bones families, but that stopped afterward."
Walburga's expression stiffened for a moment. "Because those families fell into disgrace."
"How did they fall into disgrace?"
"They began accepting Muggle-borns, even marrying Muggles." Walburga's voice turned stern. "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 made by the Ministry of Magic!" Walburga's teaching wand struck the Tapestry, making several portraits shrink back in fright. "There are fewer and fewer true Pure-blood families. We are the last beacon in a tainted world."
It was absurdly narrow-minded, though understandable. In a world where Magic was hereditary, bloodlines did matter. But to attribute everything to bloodlines alone was far too simplistic.
Regulus glanced at Sirius and knew that he was destined never to accept such a theory. That was probably for the best.
A thought suddenly surfaced. Perhaps Sirius leaving the Black family would be better for him.
The thought startled Regulus himself, but the more he considered it, the more logical it seemed.
The Black family would side with Voldemort in the future, except for Sirius and Andromeda.
If Sirius was destined to rebel, then leaving earlier and joining the other side sooner might help him survive the coming war.
And he himself, Regulus Black, was destined to be drawn into darkness by this identity.
He needed the Black family's resources, the status of Pure-bloods, and access to the core of the Death Eaters to acquire knowledge.
He and Sirius were walking two paths that were bound to stand opposed sooner or later.
Wednesday: bloodline supremacy.
"Muggles are incomplete creatures." Walburga paced through the Study, a habit she had whenever she became impassioned. "They have no Magic. They are like birds without wings, fish without gills—failures of evolution."
Sirius raised his hand. Regulus had taught him to do that: raise his hand when questioning their 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 a terrible racket, and 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'm stating facts," Regulus said. "Mother, if we really 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, carrying capacity, and altitude, then who is truly superior?"
Sirius sucked in a breath, waiting for their mother to explode.
But Walburga did not explode. She stood there stunned, her lips moving without producing a word.
Regulus continued, "Perhaps the issue is not who is superior, but what we choose to develop. Muggles develop technology; we develop Magic."
"But if we remain stuck in our ways, clinging only to our traditions while Muggle technology continues 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 is built 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 capable of seeing through the Disillusionment Charm? What if we are still arguing about 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 left in a hurry.
Sirius leaned closer and whispered, "You scared her."
"Maybe." Regulus jumped down from the hardwood chair. "But someone had to tell the truth."
"Why did you speak 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, half-understanding.
At dinner, Walburga brought up the latest news she had heard. "The Nott family's daughter actually wants to marry a Mudblood! Mr. Nott was so furious that he locked her in a tower. They say he plans 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 that person, doesn't she?"
"Likes?" Walburga looked as if she had heard the most ridiculous word imaginable. "Can liking someone feed you? Can it keep the bloodline pure? She has simply been bewitched!"
"But if two people like each other—"
"Shut up!" Walburga's voice sharpened. "Sirius, how many times have I warned you? Do not pollute your mind with those filthy Muggle ideas! A member of the Black family must have responsibility! Must have a sense of duty!"
"Responsibility means imprisoning your own daughter?" Sirius sprang to his feet, his chair scraping backward with a piercing screech. "Responsibility means tearing apart two people who love each other?"
"She does not love him! She was merely—"
"How would 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. "This is unfair! Why can't we choose the people we like? Why do we have to marry someone from the Sacred Twenty-Eight? I do not know any of the people on that list! Maybe I do not 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. Even though he did not truly understand what love was, he instinctively opposed this.
And their mother only knew how to suppress him, forcing Sirius to accept her Pure-blood ideals.
"Mother." Regulus's voice was calm. "What Sirius means is that feelings are one important factor in choosing a partner."
"But from the perspective of continuing the family line, bloodline stability is indeed a priority. Perhaps the two can be balanced. For example, one could choose someone they like from within the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
Walburga paused, and some of her anger faded. "Of course... if it is within an appropriate range, having feelings would be better."
But Sirius stared at his brother, hurt in his eyes. "You are taking their side too? You think bloodline matters more than liking someone too?"
"I'm 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 either to accept the rules or to leave."
Sirius understood. He looked at his brother, then at his parents, and suddenly smiled.
He turned and left the dining room. There was no door slamming or shouting; he simply walked away quietly.
Orion said nothing. He only looked at Regulus, his expression complicated.
Dinner continued in silence.
Before you continue