"Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, was the law; and this mandate, down out of the depths of Time, he obeyed." — Jack London, The Call of the Wild
The Fall of Nobby Leach (1968)
The Wizarding World was once again drowning in riots and chaos; peace had been a stranger ever since Nobby Leach became Minister.
To the Malfoys and their ilk, having a "sitting duck" in the Minister's office was not enough. They wanted him completely removed from the Ministry. And so, a curse was laid—so powerful and insidious that Nobby soon succumbed to a mysterious illness.
Deep within the Ministry of Magic lay a department that had never truly been under the control of any one person, not even the Minister himself. This department was mysterious enough to govern magic so unusual and dangerous that it could devour the world. Powerful dark curses, time, and alchemical tools were handled there: The Department of Mysteries.
The people who worked there were so secretive that even their closest kin had no idea of their true profession. These agents were known as Unspeakables.
They extended a rare courtesy by examining the Minister for Magic and found the root cause of his disease. They determined it to be a very powerful, ancient curse. However, they warned that it would take significant time and effort to lift—even for them.
The Minister was so relieved to find a glimmer of hope that he made a foolish mistake: he ordered them to cure him at any cost. His arrogant tone cost him his only salvation. The Department of Mysteries closed its doors to him and refused to open them again until Nobby Leach voluntarily resigned from his position.
He resigned in disgrace. There has been no news of him ever since.
Eugenia Jenkins was a very capable witch who succeeded Nobby Leach. However, despite her competence, she had to clean up the massive pile of refuse her predecessor had left behind.
A major headache for the new Minister was the Squib Rights protests spreading through the Wizarding World in the late 1960s.
Historically, Squibs were usually arranged by their family members to live in the Muggle world, cutting them off from further contact with magic. Those from wealthy families could afford to start a comfortable life among Muggles. But those from ordinary wizarding families were often cast out without a penny. Most of them ended up homeless, straddling two worlds but belonging to neither.
Driven to desperation, some Squibs agreed to be experimented on by Dark Wizards in the hopes of gaining magic. But there had never been a single Squib in history who gained magic this way. Most ended up dead.
With the previous decree by Nobby Leach, magical experiments on magical creatures were made illegal. Many of the Squibs who had volunteered as experimental material were "rescued" by Aurors. Unable to return to their families and legally barred from the experiments they had hoped would save them, they stayed in the Wizarding World without hope. Thus, the protests began. It is a desperate cry to reclaim their rights.
This proved to be a headache for the new Minister. But while chaos ruled the streets, a different power was brewing in the dark.
It was darker than the world had ever seen.
There is a difference between a revolutionary and a monster. Grindelwald was a man bound by the power of ideology and twisted love; he created a movement. Voldemort, however, did not believe in a movement—he believed in himself.
Grindelwald locked himself in Nurmengard and did not come out. The darkness that emerged during this time of chaos was Voldemort himself.
His appearance had changed from the charming boy who worked at Borgin and Burkes to a ghastly figure, tempered by rituals and forged in Black Magic. He made rapid moves in the Wizarding World, playing his political games against Dumbledore and gathering power like a man gathering stones on a riverbank.
He was more powerful now than ever before.
…
The Departure
Regulus finally turned seven. He was now ready to attend the Nostradamus School of Wizardry. This was the crucible where he would be tempered by the power of magic and forced to realise the power he held.
"That damn Sirius," Regulus muttered to himself. "If only he hadn't come back, refusing to attend the school like the snotty little brat he is, I wouldn't have to go this early."
Surprisingly, despite his complaints, Regulus approached the task with the organisation of the academician he had been in his previous life.
He was packing his bags with Kreacher's help—or rather, he was selecting the items he needed, and Kreacher was packing them into a suitcase with an Undetectable Extension Charm.
His mother popped into the room, opening the door to check on him.
"Regulus, you forgot your scarf. The school is very cold in winter," Walburga said in a tired tone.
"Mother, thank you," Regulus said, handing the scarf to Kreacher to be packed.
Walburga walked over and held Regulus in her arms. "Do you really have to go to that school, Regulus? You know I always hated that place. I am worried about how you might survive there."
"Mom, it is Grandmother's wish that I go," Regulus said in a firm tone, trying to assure her. "You know how she gets if I do not comply with her wishes. Sirius did not like it there, so I have to take his place now."
Suddenly, the door burst wide open. Orion strode in, beaming.
"Are you ready for your new school, son?"
"Yes, Father."
"Remember this: do not make our House look weak," Orion commanded in an unquestionable tone. "You should be the top student. Preserve the dignity of the Black family that your brother lost there."
"Is that all you have to say to your son before he goes to that place?" Walburga snapped, panic setting in. "For Merlin's sake! Do you not care if your son survives? He has grown comfortable here. You and I both know the conditions of that school—we barely made it out!"
Orion blinked, caught off guard. He had always been the centre of attention wherever he went. Even at Nostradamus, he had enjoyed a privileged time due to being the Heir to the Black family. He had not an ounce of understanding regarding his wife's trauma.
"Dear, it is not like that…" he started, but he was interrupted by Regulus, who stepped in to save his father from his mother's wrath.
"Mom, it is alright. I am bored at home, and Mr Carrow has nothing else to teach me. I need exposure to the outside world. I will be fine. Please, just take care of yourself."
"Oh, my dear boy is worrying about his mother," Walburga sighed, her anger melting into sorrow. "I will be alright, love. You should write me lots of letters when you… Oh! I forgot. They do not allow any contact with family while you stay there."
She hugged her son in a tight embrace, leaning down to whisper in his ear.
"Survive, my boy. Survive there, whatever you must do."
Regulus was finally freed from her embrace and looked at her with a questioning gaze. But she refused to speak further. She had experienced the horrors of that school, and she had survived them by doing unspeakable things.
Whatever the school held for Regulus was a mystery waiting for him to experience.