Chapter 54: A Thorough Exchange of Views
The magical aftershocks in the training room had not yet faded. Protective runes along the stone walls still flickered with a weak red glow, and the floor lay scarred and uneven, littered with grit and broken fragments of stone.
Regulus and Orion sat on the ground, shoulder to shoulder, backs against the cold black wall. The air still carried the harsh mix of scorched heat and dampness left behind by clashing spells.
Regulus slowed his breathing, gathering himself, letting his magic settle back into a steady rhythm. After a moment, he spoke.
"Sirius not coming home might not be a bad thing."
Orion's movement paused. His eyes darkened, but he did not answer. He waited.
"He is doing well at Hogwarts," Regulus continued, voice even, as though he were describing a stranger. "James Potter and the others treat him sincerely, and Gryffindor suits him."
Regulus's gaze stayed on the ruined floor.
"His temperament is too intense. He will never accept the Black family's rules, or the tangled expectations of the pure blood circles."
He turned his head to look at Orion.
"His choice is rebellious, but it is the path that fits him best. If he stays away from Grimmauld Place, and away from the disputes of the old families, he can live freely."
Orion remained silent, but memory stirred behind his expression.
He remembered Sirius as a child, furious after another lecture from Walburga, railing at the walls of the house as though it were a prison. He remembered Regulus watching, quiet in the corner. And he remembered, now that Regulus spoke it aloud, how often the younger boy had mentioned choices, paths, leaving, as if scattering small stones along a road.
Details Orion had once dismissed began to connect. A cold jolt ran through him.
Had Regulus been nudging Sirius away for years, gently, almost invisibly?
"In the future, he will stand with Dumbledore," Regulus said, certain, as if he were reciting something already written. "That is the best arrangement."
Orion finally looked up. Doubt showed in his eyes, but more than doubt, there was scrutiny.
"Why are you so sure?"
"The situation is obvious," Regulus replied. His finger traced lightly along the stone, sketching an invisible map of forces.
"The rise of Lord Voldemort is, at its core, pure blood supremacy crashing into the existing order. Dumbledore represents the force that keeps a plural balance. Sirius hates the hypocrisy and cruelty of the pure blood circles, so he will naturally move toward Dumbledore."
Regulus's tone sharpened slightly, not with anger, but with conviction.
"He is only suited to live in the sunlight. Dumbledore's side offers an honourable stance, friends to stand beside, and a kind of justice he can believe in. That is what Sirius wants. Let him do what he believes in. It is better than trapping him here until he becomes nothing but resentment."
Orion listened, and something uneasy shifted in his chest. The boy's mind was too clear, too ordered.
Regulus continued, his fingertip never still.
"The balance of the wizarding world was broken long ago. Pure blood families hold resources and inheritance, but they cling to tradition. In truth, they cling to their interests. Half blood and Muggle born witches and wizards are rising, but they lack a voice. That will not remain true forever. They will grow stronger until they cannot be pressed down."
He lifted his eyes.
"The Ministry of Magic looks like it rules, but it is weak. Lord Voldemort has only dragged contradictions into the open."
Regulus's voice stayed calm, but the shape of his words carried the weight of a long view.
"The future will not be a simple black and white war. It will be a tug of power and interests. If Sirius stands with Dumbledore, that leaves an escape route for the Black family. We manoeuvre on this side to protect the foundation. Two paths, working together."
He paused, then finished cleanly.
"No matter which side gains the upper hand in the end, the Black family can survive."
Orion said nothing for a long time. Only the steady breathing of the two of them filled the damaged room.
He had to admit it. When it came to reading the shape of what was coming, he was behind his eleven year old son.
Regulus had power, yes, but more than power, he had vision. And vision, not duelling talent, was what kept a family alive across generations.
At last Orion nodded, slow and reluctant, as if conceding to a truth he did not like.
"From now on, I will not interfere with Sirius's choices."
He looked at Regulus, gaze turning solemn, the weight of an unspoken handover settling into the air.
"His affairs will be yours to manage."
Regulus did not answer. He simply watched his father, expression still.
Orion drew a breath, as though pushing past something difficult.
"Regulus, if it comes to it in the end, you will be the priority."
Regulus understood exactly what that meant.
If the choice became unavoidable, if survival demanded sacrifice, Orion would choose the family's continuation over Sirius's safety. He would choose the son who could carry the name forward.
Regulus felt something stir in his chest. He did not offer pretty words. He only reached out and set a firm hand on Orion's shoulder, steady and resolute.
Orion studied the calm line of his son's face. Slowly, the tightness at the corners of his mouth eased into the beginning of a smile. The heaviness in his eyes thinned, replaced by trust.
The conversation shifted, naturally, to the Malfoy Christmas gala.
"At the Malfoy gathering," Orion said, "families from every circle will be present."
Then he asked, directly, "I want to hear your thoughts."
Regulus answered without hesitation.
"If Lord Voldemort wants loyalty, we give loyalty. If he wants resources, we provide resources. But we cannot do what the Lestranges do, throwing themselves in completely and tying the family's fate to him."
He spoke with the same clarity he had used in the training room.
"We show loyalty on the surface and keep independence in secret. He wants the power and prestige of the House of Black. That is leverage. We use it to keep decision making space, and room to grow, even within his influence."
Regulus's eyes stayed level.
"We do not go looking for trouble. We do not obey blindly. When it matters, we judge for ourselves. We do not let ourselves be absorbed."
Orion listened, one finger tapping lightly against his knee.
"What you are thinking matches the family's direction," he said.
There was shrewdness in his tone, the voice of a man who had negotiated with venomous people and lived.
"Lord Voldemort is powerful, and charismatic, and he will be remembered in the history of the wizarding world. But he is not at the point where every family should stake everything on him."
Orion turned his head slightly, and for the first time, he let more of the inside of the game show through.
"Some families are truly fanatical. They follow him with their whole hearts. But more families are watching. A few even push the brainless fools to the front, letting them declare loyalty loudly, while they themselves observe."
His eyes narrowed.
"They want to see what becomes of those who depend on Lord Voldemort completely."
Regulus felt a small shift inside himself.
He had thought his advantage, the knowledge carried by a soul that remembered another life, gave him a view above the board. But Orion had lived on this board for years. In politics, in bloodline games, in quiet bargains, his father's experience ran deeper than any fresh certainty.
The House of Black had survived not by charging forward, but by careful steps and cold patience.
Regulus recognised, with a faint sting, that he had been arrogant.
And yet, another thought followed just as quickly. Even if Orion saw the shape of it all, the Black family still ended in ruin in the fate Regulus remembered. Walburga's fanaticism. Sirius's break. Bellatrix's madness. Voldemort's paranoia and cruelty. Shrewdness alone could not save them from a storm like that.
In the end, only overwhelming strength could decide one's destiny.
Orion did not notice the turn of Regulus's thoughts.
"Your idea of placing the Black family as a partner is bold," he continued, "and very dangerous. Lord Voldemort's desire for control is extreme. If he detects it, he will treat it as provocation."
He paused, then added, measured.
"But it is not impossible. We must show enough value that he believes the House of Black is indispensable. At the same time, we keep a low profile. We do not steal attention. We do not touch his limits. We develop quietly, right under his nose."
Orion looked at Regulus.
"At the gathering, stay at my side. Let me handle the room. Our outward posture must be correct. Say what must be said, and do not ask what must not be asked. Your ability is already enough for them to take you seriously. There is no need to display it."
Regulus nodded. Then he raised what had been sitting in the back of his mind.
"Father, I want to see the inheritance in the family's chamber of secrets."
Orion's face hardened at once.
"No."
"Why?" Regulus pressed.
"The inheritance is not ordinary books," Orion said, voice turning stern. "Our ancestors sealed the powerful magic, the insights, and the combat experience of their lives into memory crystals."
He held Regulus's gaze, making sure each word landed.
"Those memories carry not only knowledge, but the magic power and spiritual will of the ancestors themselves."
Orion's tone deepened, heavy with warning.
"That power is vast, and their will is strong. If you touch it rashly, the best outcome is being suppressed by an ancestor's will, and having your own magical path distorted. The worst outcome is a collapse of the mind, backlash, and the loss of self."
He did not soften the last part.
"You would become nothing but a vessel for the inheritance."
.....
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