Leaving Orion's study, Regulus headed along the corridor toward the east side of the third floor.
Walburga's room was at the end of the corridor, its door ajar. He knocked twice, and his mother's voice came from inside.
"Come in."
He pushed the door open and entered. This room was brighter than the others at Grimmauld Place, with a large bay window overlooking the inner courtyard.
Several magical laurels grew in the garden outside, their leaves gleaming silver-green in the afternoon light. Every so often, one or two palm-sized creatures darted between the branches, trailing slender tails as they wove through the shrubs.
Walburga sat on the cushioned window seat, two dark pillows behind her back and a thick book bound in black leather in her hands.
The book was old, its corners worn and most of the lettering on its spine faded. Only a line of Old English remained faintly legible, with roots relating to blood and death.
She wore a dark emerald-green house robe, its collar and cuffs embroidered with fine silver thread. Her hair was loosely pinned at the back of her head, a few stray locks falling beside her ears.
Regulus walked over and sat on the cushion beside her.
Walburga closed the book, set it on the windowsill behind her, and turned to look at him, a smile rising on her face.
"My Reggie."
"Mother."
"Everything is ready." She reached out to smooth a crease in his collar, stroking it twice before letting go. "Your robes are hanging in your bedroom wardrobe. Remember to put them on tomorrow. The new winter overrobe is at the very bottom of your trunk. It may be cold this winter."
Regulus smiled. "Thank you, Mother."
"And all the little things you usually use. I had Kreacher pack two extra