Horace Slughorn's office was much like the man himself, carefully curated to project comfort and abundance.
The air carried a peculiar blend of expensive potion ingredients. The walls were crowded with photographs of Slughorn alongside famous witches and wizards.
"Ah! Regulus, my dear boy, do come in!" Slughorn bustled forward, his round belly leading the way, his face split by a beaming smile.
"Sit, sit! A glass of mead? Or perhaps a Sherbet Lemon?"
"Thank you, Professor, but I'm fine," Regulus replied politely. He took the indicated seat, posture straight and composed, neither stiff nor overly deferential.
As he sat there, Regulus observed Slughorn carefully. The man was shrewd, fond of collecting promising students and weaving them into a vast web of favors and mutual benefit.
He valued talent, background, and future utility. He also knew how to read the winds and avoid unnecessary risks.
A textbook Slytherin opportunist, but not a villain. He simply took investment and networking to their extreme.
"I've heard about the little incident in the common room last night," Slughorn said, rubbing his hands together. His eyes seemed to glint.
"That Travers boy, well… always so impulsive, not nearly mature enough. Still, you handled it very well. Very properly. Quite in line with the dignity of the Black family."
Regulus almost laughed inside, along with a flicker of disbelief. I beat him half to death and you call that proper?
And what exactly was the dignity of the Black family supposed to be? Bullying people?
Outwardly, he remained calm, listening quietly and nodding in acknowledgment of the praise.
"With your talent and temperament, I have no doubt you'll become a truly influential figure in the wizarding world," Slughorn said, lowering his voice as he leaned forward, adopting a confidential air.
"I've always enjoyed watching outstanding young people shine. If you ever need help with potions, or anything else at all, my club, my collection, even a few of my… modest connections, will always be open to you."
Regulus understood perfectly. Slughorn was carefully avoiding Voldemort's name, but he was clearly optimistic about Regulus's prospects in the coming era and willing to invest early.
Regulus showed a touch of age-appropriate humility. "Thank you very much for your confidence, Professor.
Actually, there is a rather obscure direction in potions that I've been curious about. I was hoping for your guidance."
"Oh?" Slughorn's eyes brightened further. "Do tell."
"I came across some descriptions in a few very old family fragments concerning ritual practices," Regulus said, choosing his words with care, sounding like a student driven by curiosity.
"The officiants would sometimes draw complex totems or runes directly onto the skin. Supposedly, this allowed brief contact with certain forces.
I was wondering whether such external applications could be achieved through potions instead.
For example, could potion ingredients with specific effects be processed into a form that can safely adhere to the skin and release its effect slowly over time?"
Slughorn stroked his double chin, clearly intrigued.
"An interesting idea. Very old, very niche.
Directly inscribing magical runes is extremely dangerous, but using potions as a medium…
There are records. Ancient northern witches used ointments brewed from dragon blood, powdered troll heart, and frost crystal flowers to gain strength, though the side effects were severe.
If you want something safe, long-lasting, and targeted… that would involve ingredient stability, skin permeability, controlled magical release.
And also preventing magical conflict and backlash. It's quite a complex topic, my boy."
The more he spoke, the more animated he became, obviously drawn in by the academic challenge.
"Still, it's not impossible.
I recall an appendix in alchemy book that mentioned a basic carrier formula, which might serve as a starting point.
And some healers in Africa, particularly around Uagadou, have traditions of mixing plant extracts with mineral powders to draw sigils that enhance magical resistance… I'll need to check the texts and run some theoretical models."
He looked at Regulus with open enthusiasm. "If you're truly interested in this path, perhaps during the holidays we could conduct some safe, theoretical discussions and basic formula experiments.
With absolute caution, of course."
"That's exactly what I was hoping for, Professor," Regulus said, inclining his head slightly. "Thank you very much for your guidance."
As he left Slughorn's office, Regulus felt quietly energized. One of his ideas had just gained a crucial supporting plank.
---
At lunch, two owls with very different airs landed almost simultaneously in front of him, dropping two letters of noticeably different thickness.
The first was from Walburga, the handwriting bold and overflowing with emotion:
"My proud son,
The news has already reached us. You defeated your challenger and upheld the honor and glory of the Black family. Well done! This is exactly how a Black heir should act. Let those doubters be silenced!
The family is proud of you. Your father and I could not be prouder.
Continue to display your strength so that all may see the Black family will take a leading position in the great transformation to come.
We are fully prepared to answer our Lord's call and fight for the future of pure-bloods. You will be our blade and our glory.
Stay sharp, my Regulus. Remember your mission and your bloodline."
The words brimmed with unrestrained fervor, pride, and devotion to Voldemort's cause. Regulus folded the letter calmly.
The second was from Orion, the writing steady and restrained:
"Regulus,
I have heard of your recent performance. Be mindful of restraint when displaying your abilities. Do not make enemies lightly.
Slytherin relationships are complex. Power is the foundation, but adaptability and judgment are what allow one to endure.
The situation outside is growing increasingly tense, and matters at home are complicated. Your mother is highly motivated at present. You should be clear in your own mind.
Focus on your studies and on strengthening your abilities. Hogwarts is still relatively stable for now. Make good use of its resources.
I have updated your access to the family library. You may now consult shelves seven through twelve.
Knowledge brings not only power, but wisdom."
Two letters, two entirely different expectations.
Regulus put them both away. He understood clearly enough. His father was warning him that a storm was coming, while his mother could hardly wait to throw herself into it.
---
At the Gryffindor table, one section felt unusually subdued.
Sirius jabbed at the mashed potatoes on his plate, his expression dark.
Of course he had heard about Regulus.
There was some shock, but not complete surprise. He had always known his brother was different. He simply hadn't expected it to be to this extent.
What unsettled him was not jealousy over Regulus's achievement or strength, but something deeper.
The more impressive Regulus became, the more perfectly he fit Slytherin and pure-blood expectations. The more likely it was that he would catch that man's attention and be pulled into that dark vortex.
The thought of Regulus someday wearing a Death Eater's black robes, standing behind that man, made Sirius's chest feel tight.
Even though he had long prepared himself for that possibility.
"Hey, Sirius, don't look like that," James said, clapping a hand hard on his friend's shoulder. He assumed Sirius was simply annoyed at a Slytherin little snake stealing the spotlight.
"So he beat a fifth-year idiot. That Travers kid was useless anyway. Your brother just got lucky and used some shady tricks."
Sirius shook his head, saying nothing.
James took the silence as agreement. His eyes gleamed as he leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Don't worry, mate. I've had it out for him since the train. Always putting on an act.
I wrote to my dad. He says that kind of spell-freezing technique is rare, but it has to have weaknesses. Either it burns through magic like mad, or it fails against fast, continuous attacks.
Remus, Peter, and I talked it over. We'll find a chance to give him a lesson. Do it for you."
Sirius looked up sharply. "James, don't."
"Relax, we know what we're doing," James cut in confidently, winking. "We won't make things awkward for you. We'll catch him alone, hit fast, and make sure he remembers it."
Remus frowned slightly, as if he wanted to speak. He glanced at James's excitement, then at Sirius's dark expression, and finally let out a quiet sigh instead.
Peter nodded nervously, his small eyes darting about.
Sirius watched James, brimming with enthusiasm. The words of protest rose to his lips, then fell away.
He knew James meant well, and once James made up his mind, he was hard to dissuade.
More importantly, somewhere deep down, Sirius felt a faint, unsettling curiosity. He wanted to see whether James and the others could really force Regulus to show even more of what he was capable of.