A Beautiful Cousin

The Black family went into the main house.

The marble floor reflects images clearly, with dark gray natural veins embedded in a white background, stretching from the Entrance Hall to the end of the Corridor.

The pillars are decorated with gilded reliefs depicting the Malfoy family making pacts with Dragon and Griffin throughout history. The reliefs are enchanted with Illusion Charm, with the dragons' wings occasionally flapping and the Griffin ' eagle eyes turning slightly in the light.

In the corner stood a life-sized silver statue of the first Malfoy family patriarch, holding a wand. The Diamond at the tip of the wand refracted tiny specks of light, casting a small patch of Starry sky onto the nearby screen wall.

The stair railings are Ebony inlaid with gold thread, and the carpet is so thick that it makes no sound when you step on it.

Several clusters of lavender flowers floated at the corner of the staircase, Magic fixed in mid-air and slowly rotating, their fragrance wafting down in waves.

The ceiling was decorated with a Starry sky effect similar to that of Hogwarts, with bands of orange-red and purple-blue colors flowing slowly overhead, occasionally with a small Light Point streaking across, leaving a thin silver tail.

Hidden somewhere, Magic sound effect played softly, a string ensemble of cello and viola, with a soothing rhythm.

The expansion of the entire manor's space wasn't limited to the outside; the Corridor were at least twice the actual length, and every corner was adorned with flowers and the light from Crystal Ball, visually reminding visitors that the Malfoy family was incredibly wealthy.

The family of three went their separate ways. Walburga walked towards the pile of ladies, Orion was stopped by an old wizard in a dark blue robe, and Regulus went upstairs alone.

On the second-floor corridor, the manor scenery depicted in the oil painting slowly changes between spring, summer, autumn, and winter.

Springtime is lavender fields covering the hillsides, summer is fountains gleaming golden in the midday sun, autumn is maple leaves turning from green to red in the mountains, and winter is stone walls covered with a thin layer of snow.

Regulus stopped at the door of Narcissa's room and knocked twice.

"Come in," a voice came from inside, sounding somewhat urgent.

Pushing open the door, Narcissa stood in front of a full-length mirror.

A white wedding gown, made of satin with a mother-of-pearl sheen, adorned with delicate lace at the collar and cuffs, the lace woven with shimmering silver threads.

The skirt trailed about two feet on the ground, with a circle of white roses embroidered around the edge. Tiny rhinestones were embedded in the petals, and as the skirt swept across the ground with her movements, the rhinestones would shimmer with iridescent light.

Her long golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, secured with a silver hair crown shaped like intertwined laurel branches, adorned with small Diamond and pearls, and gathered into a delicate arc at the top of her head.

Beneath the slightly open neckline, a teardrop-shaped white pearl dangled, suspended by a delicate silver chain.

She was looking at herself in the mirror, one hand holding the hem of her skirt, the other touching the pearls on her hair ornament, when she heard the door open and turned around.

Upon seeing it was Regulus, his entire face immediately relaxed, a smile blossomed on his lips, and his eyes crinkled.

"Regulus." She walked quickly over, her skirt brushing the ground with a soft rustling sound, and reached out to grasp his hands, her palms slightly sweaty.

Regulus glanced down at her hand, then looked up at her face, his tone gentle and his eyes sincere. "Cousin, you are beautiful."

Narcissa smiled, withdrew her hand slightly, then released it, her gray eyes looking at him. "Are you telling the truth or just being polite?"

Regulus tilted his head slightly, put one hand in his robe pocket, and said casually, "When have you ever seen me use polite words?"

Narcissa laughed out loud, her shoulders relaxing.

She pulled Regulus to the windowsill, and the two of them stood against the windowsill. Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating her wedding dress and making it Winky.

"I've been looking in the mirror since this morning," Narcissa said quickly, touching her tiara with her fingers before putting it down and fiddling with her skirt. "I've put the tiara on and taken it off, put it on and taken it off, asked seven people if it looked good, and they all said it looked good, but I don't believe a single one of them."

Regulus took a step back, raised his hand to his chin, and looked at him seriously, left and right.

Narcissa watched him nervously.

"Cousin, the crown is beautiful, and the dress is beautiful too. But you're even more beautiful than the crown and the dress. Lucius would be too swayed to stand if he saw you."

Narcissa gave him a disapproving look, pursed her lips, and tried hard to suppress the upward curve of her lips, but she couldn't help but laugh.

Regulus stepped forward and took Narcissa's hand. "Nervous?"

"I'm not nervous, it's just that after today, I'll be surnamed Malfoy," Narcissa took a breath and slowly exhaled, "The surname Black has been with me for nineteen years."

"The Malfoy name will stay with you longer," Regulus turned his head, the Narcissa in the mirror and the Narcissa outside the mirror overlapping, both equally beautiful. "But you will always be a member of the Black family."

Narcissa stared at his profile. "Are you speaking on behalf of the Black family?"

Regulus turned to look at her and said softly, "On my behalf."

Narcissa's eyes reddened slightly, and she reached out and patted the back of his hand. "Don't make me cry, it took me half an hour just to draw my eyeliner this morning."

Regulus's lips curved slightly, and after thinking for a moment, he nodded seriously. "My word carries weight in the Black family too."

Narcissa chuckled at his smug expression.

Her eyes were still red, but the corners of her mouth were already turned up. She pressed her finger against the corner of her eye, trying to wipe away the moisture, but she couldn't. Instead, her smile widened even more.

"You..." She shook her head, her voice slightly nasal, completely relaxed.

A moment later, Regulus released Narcissa's hand. "It's time to go down, cousin, everyone's waiting downstairs."

Narcissa took a deep breath, turned to face the mirror, and finally adjusted her hair crown, tucking a strand of golden hair that was hanging by her forehead behind her ear.

She turned back to look at Regulus and nodded, her eyes filled with a smile, yet also a touch of moisture.

Regulus went out first; the Black family was large and prosperous, and it wasn't his place to see Narcissa off at her wedding.

In the Corridor, Cygnus III and Druella were walking this way.

Cygnus III was tall and thin, dressed in a black formal gown, with the Black family's signature grey eyes, a serious expression, and lips that were habitually pursed into a line.

His facial features bear a striking resemblance to those of Walburga, with the same high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and a cool, stern profile.

Druella, who was not tall and had a plump figure, was holding his arm. Her brown hair was tied in a low bun at the back of her head. She wore a dark rose-colored robe and had soft features. Her eyebrows and eyes resembled Narcissa's by about 50 or 60 percent, but were even more delicate.

Regulus stopped and bowed slightly. "Uncle, Aunt."

Cygnus III nodded, his voice low. "Regulus."

Druella's lips twitched slightly, but she didn't even manage a smile. Her gaze lingered on his face for a moment before shifting away, and she walked past him toward Narcissa's room.

It was rather impolite, but Regulus didn't blame her, after all, he had beaten her daughter and burned down her son-in-law's house.

If he were Druella, he wouldn't be able to laugh either; the fact that they didn't greet him was already a sign of politeness.

But in the end, they're all real relatives, family, so there's really no need to be so polite.

Regulus walked down the Corridor toward the stairs.

The main hall and garden were already packed with guests, and sounds came from all directions: conversations, laughter, clinking glasses, distant Silver Bell, and nearby footsteps.

He took a glass of elven wine from a House-elf carrying a silver tray, stood by a pillar on the side of the hall, and scanned the entire room with his gaze.

Beside the fireplace, the Patriarch of the Greengrass family was talking quietly with Orion. Both of them held wine glasses, relaxed, but neither of them drank. Orion spoke, and the Patriarch nodded slightly.

The Parkinson walked in from the arcade, followed by a girl of about fifteen or sixteen years old. She had long, dark brown hair tied in a braid and her eyes darted around in the crowd. When she saw Regulus's gaze sweep over her, she quickly looked away and stared at the tips of her shoes.

The Flint family was located near the garden entrance. Old Fawley, dressed in an iron-grey robe, with a round face and a round belly, and a mouth that never closed, was exchanging pleasantries with a middle-aged witch next to him.

Behind her stood a little girl with light blonde hair tied in two braids; Marcia Fawley, Lily's best friend.

Regulus looked over, and Marcia happened to be looking up towards the stairs as well. Their eyes met, and she shrank behind her father, only showing half of her head and a braid.

Old Fawley sensed his daughter's movement, turned his head following her gaze, and saw Regulus. His round face immediately broke into a fawning smile, and he gave a slight bow, just about to greet her, when Regulus's gaze had already shifted away.

Old Nott stood by the pillar, holding a glass of wine, ignoring everyone, his lips always drooping, with his two sons standing beside him.

The older one, Theodore Nott, was about the same height as Regulus. He had a stern face and was imitating his father's indifference, but he wasn't quite right. His eyes kept wandering into the crowd.

The younger one, Darius Nott, is truly expressionless; his expression is exactly the same as the Old Nott's, always gloomy.

Walburga was surrounded by the ladies, his deep burgundy gown standing out among the group of women in lighter colors.

Several ladies around her took turns talking to her, leaning towards her. She listened with a slight tilt of her head, her posture elegant.

In the garden, Crabbe and Goyle sat on a bench in the corner. They were both very large, with broad shoulders and thick backs, and the bench sank under their weight.

The two heads were huddled together, talking about something funny, and old Goyle's shoulders rose and fell with the laughter.

Old Crabbe's little eyes glanced in the direction of the hall, his eyes moved quickly between several guests, then he looked away and continued to grin innocently.

The Selwyn family was strolling in the middle of the garden. Rosalie Selwyn, who was with her parents and wearing a light green dress, saw Regulus appear at the entrance to the hall. Her expression brightened for a moment, her mouth opened slightly, and she was about to take a step forward when she stopped abruptly.

At the corner of the Corridor, Slughorn was chatting happily with a foreign wizard in a dark green robe. His round face was beaming with joy. He held a glass of Mead in one hand and a piece of cake in the other, chewing and talking at the same time, taking a sip every few words, and smacking his lips after finishing.

The old man has come too.

Regulus looked away.

New Apparition towards the Entrance Hall, as guests continued to arrive.

About twenty minutes before the ceremony began, the conversations from the direction of the hall entrance suddenly subsided, and the air seemed to grow heavy.

Several wizards standing near the entrance were the first to sense it; their hands holding wine glasses paused, and their voices lowered. Then, more people followed their gaze and looked towards the entrance.

Bellatrix Lestrange walked in from the porch.

The black gown, deeper black than anyone else's, had a light-absorbing quality, tightly wrapped around the body, with a high neckline and narrow cuffs, without any superfluous decorations.

Her long, slightly wavy hair reached her waist, glossy black, her face was pale and cold, and her dark pupils were unnaturally bright. She exuded an aura that was completely out of place with the wedding atmosphere.

Dangerous, chilling, and dazzlingly beautiful, stepping into the room filled with the fragrance of flowers and golden light, it was like a black flame.

Rodolphus Lestrange followed half a step behind her.

He wore the same black tuxedo, was burly, had a gloomy face, downturned lips, and his eyes scanned the crowd rapidly.

He maintained just the right distance from Bellatrix —close enough to be mistaken for a married couple, yet far enough not to seem like he was following her around, but always with an air of cautiousness about him.

Those present noticed her and stopped what they were doing; even their conversations ceased around her.

Six months have passed since the Christmas Banquet, and news of the Lestrange Manor being burned to the ground has spread throughout the Pure-blood Circle.

But Bellatrix's presence here today proves something else: she is still that person's person, she hasn't been abandoned, and may even be valued more.

Regulus stood by the pillar, holding a wine glass, watching Bellatrix walk in.

After France, this was the first time I saw her up close. Before that, it was at the Christmas Banquet. Bellatrix in that movie was the previous version; she would scream, go crazy, and even laugh while lying on the ground after losing a fight.

This version is indeed quieter now, and the Magic Power texture has also changed.

Bellatrix's Magic Power used to be outwardly radiant and restless, as if it were about to explode at any moment. Now, the restlessness has been suppressed, but it hasn't disappeared. It's just been wrapped in a thin layer, like a shell forming on top of lava, with the churning still beneath.

But this shell wasn't her own.

Regulus watched for a moment, amusement flashing in his eyes.

She's quiet now, but I haven't noticed anything amiss with her intelligence. So, is she quiet or intelligent?

He walked past the pillar.