Regulus already understood. He leaned forward and pressed, "What exactly is in the inheritance?"
"There's Cassandra's Shadowstep Charm. It lets you merge into shadows and achieve true invisibility and instant movement. It's far more advanced than a Disillusionment Charm.
"There's Eldrin's Verdant Magic. It guides natural magic into your body. From the faint life in flowers and grass to the weighty energy of forests, mountains, and rivers, you can turn it all to your own use.
"There's Aurelius's Sky Volcano Curse. It doesn't need real terrain. You condense a molten core in a chosen patch of sky. When it detonates, it forms a floating volcano. The lava and flame streams can lock onto a target with precision.
"And there's Valerius's Bone and Blood Binding Curse. You use your own blood as a conduit and forcibly bind yourself to an enemy, establishing a bloodline connection. Through that link, you can strike directly or even predict an attack's trajectory.
"Also Sevilla's Soulmending Charm, which repairs damage to the soul.
"And the Space Anchor Charm. It lays invisible anchor points in empty space, stabilizing the structure of the area and resisting apparition ambushes and spatial distortion magic."
Orion listed them with a reverence that made his voice heavier. "These spells are all terrifyingly powerful, and they're just as dangerous.
"Verdant Magic most of all. If you slip up even a little, the raw, violent surge of natural magic will crush you. Eldrin died that way. He drew too much, siphoned too hard, and it killed him.
Sky Volcano Curse is brutally demanding on the mind. Lose focus for a moment and it runs wild, and you'll be the first one it burns. Every inheritance memory, every impact of the transfer, is enough to make a grown wizard back away."
Something stirred in Regulus at the mention of Verdant Magic. It lined up too neatly with the experiment he'd done before, coaxing power through a daisy.
Maybe this was the path. Maybe this was how you pulled out the lethal magic hidden inside a Mandrake.
"I can handle it."
He meant every word.
Regulus's voice came out steady. "What I showed you earlier wasn't everything. My mind's tougher than most, and my soul is stable enough to withstand the ancestors' memories."
Orion's brow drew tight, disbelief written plainly across his face. "You're strong, you see further than most, and you're clever. I won't argue any of that.
But mental strength and the strength of a soul aren't measured by those things. An ancestor's will has been tempered and fed by centuries. It's stronger than you think. Even I wouldn't claim I could completely resist it."
He truly couldn't accept it. An eleven-year-old child having power and intelligence was already rare enough. Having a spirit and soul sturdy enough for something like this felt like it went against the rules of the world.
Regulus knew words wouldn't convince him. He met his father's eyes and said, "Then let's test it with Imperio."
Regulus had thought it through.
In the story, Harry Potter could resist Imperio in fourth year, cast by Barty Crouch Jr. Regulus wasn't about to believe he fell short.
Orion froze for a beat, then understood exactly what Regulus was asking.
Imperio struck directly at the mind and will. If you could resist it, that was the cleanest proof there was.
Orion wanted to refuse. Imperio was Unforgivable for a reason. But Regulus's expression didn't waver, and Orion couldn't ignore everything he'd already seen from his son. In the end, he nodded.
"Fine."
Orion stood, wand raised, his tone turning sharp and controlled. "I'll manage the strength. We'll start light and increase it. If anything feels wrong, you tell me immediately."
Regulus rose as well and took a few steps back, leaving space between them.
"Imperio!"
The spell shot out. A dead gray force surged toward Regulus's awareness.
Instantly, he felt it, a foreign power trying to push into his mind.
It was like someone whispering right beside his ear, over and over, cold and absolute, nudging him into simple actions.
Lift your hand.
Turn around.
Put down your wand.
That will wanted his body. It wanted to twist his judgment until obeying felt like the most natural thing in the world.
But Regulus's mental barrier held.
The invading force slammed into it like surf striking stone and scattered at once, collapsing before it could even reach his thoughts.
Orion saw Regulus's eyes go empty, his focus slipping away, and assumed it had taken hold. Softly, he ordered, "Raise your hand."
Regulus didn't move. He stayed exactly as he was, posture straight, not a single twitch of control.
Orion's frown deepened. He pushed more power into the curse.
More magic poured in. The whispers thickened, multiplying until they seemed to crowd the air itself. The pressure grew heavier, trying to pry at the edges of Regulus's barrier. It even began to interfere with the flow of his magic, searching for a crack.
Regulus still didn't flinch. He even spoke, calm as anything. "Hold it a little longer. I want to feel it more."
Orion stared at him, and his grip on the wand slackened without him meaning to. Disbelief flooded his face.
What kind of person asked to experience Imperio longer?
This was one of the three Unforgivables. A torture aimed straight at the mind and will. Most wizards either fought with everything they had or were controlled in an instant. Nobody, absolutely nobody, resisted it completely and then requested extra time like it was a lesson they didn't want to end.
Worse, Regulus wasn't struggling. There was no chaotic magic, no tremor in his casting core. Even his breathing stayed even.
It didn't look like an Unforgivable was being forced into him. It looked like someone had tossed a Cheering Charm his way.
Imperio's whole nature was the violent rewriting of will. Even if you resisted, you were supposed to feel the tearing, the strain, the pressure of something trying to peel you open.
Regulus sounded like he was talking about the weather.
That kind of composure wasn't something you expected from an eleven-year-old. It was something even a seasoned Auror might not manage.
Orion could have gone further. He could have made the curse more corrosive, sharper, more invasive. He could have torn through Regulus's barrier entirely and left damage behind that might never heal.
But this was his son.
And Regulus had already proven enough. This kind of mental strength was more than sufficient to touch the family inheritance.
Orion lowered his wand.
Regulus's gaze cleared at once. There was no trace of control, no lingering haze. Even his magic flowed as smoothly as ever, as if the spell had never landed.
"Your mental strength…" Orion's voice carried a tremor of excitement. "It really is enough to withstand the ancestors' memories."
He put his wand away and studied Regulus's eyes, long and serious. After a long moment, he said, "Come with me."
When he turned, Orion couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from lifting. His pace even quickened.
After a while, he spoke again, trying to sound casual and failing. A thread of hope crept into his words. "Sirius… is he like you?"
Regulus followed behind him, and for a second he couldn't quite hide how done he felt. Mr. Black, what exactly are you hoping for here?
He hesitated, then answered carefully, "He's… healthy."
Orion gave a quiet cough and said nothing more. He kept walking toward the stone door at the deepest end of the training hall, Regulus right behind him.
They passed through several hidden corridors before arriving at the family's sealed chamber.
The door was carved from a single slab of obsidian. Ancient runes covered its surface, and the air around it felt thick with old magic.
Orion murmured an archaic incantation. One rune after another lit up red, and the stone door slowly swung inward. A breath of air rolled out, heavy with the weight of time.
Inside, the chamber was spacious and solemn. Magic torches were set into the walls, casting a steady light over a stone platform at the center.
On the platform sat more than a dozen crystal spheres, each about the size of a fist. Soft silver light swirled within them, and every so often, a flicker of an image flashed deep inside.
"This is the family inheritance," Orion said as he approached the platform, awe plain in his eyes.
He turned to Regulus, his voice firm and careful. "Remember this. The moment you touch a crystal, the ancestor's memories will trigger directly. You can't resist them. You need to accept them, understand them, and make them yours.
"If you feel your mind can't take it, break the connection immediately. Don't try to prove anything."
Regulus stepped up to the platform. His gaze settled on the leftmost sphere. Eldrin's Verdant Magic.
He lifted his hand and let his fingertips meet the crystal.
It was icy cold.
Then, in the next heartbeat, power and memory crashed into his awareness like a tidal wave.
He saw Eldrin sitting still in the mountains and forests. He saw the way he reached outward, how he connected to everything living, how the world answered him in return.
The impact wrapped around Regulus's mind all at once. He clenched his jaw and threw his mental barrier wide, not to block it, but to hold steady while he accepted the inheritance.
Orion stood beside him, eyes locked on Regulus's face, ready to cut the connection the moment anything went wrong.
Regulus's body trembled. Cold sweat beaded at his hairline, but he didn't break. He didn't collapse. Orion's shock deepened again.
Regulus sank into the memories. Every insight Eldrin had ever had about natural magic laid itself out inside Regulus's mind with painful clarity.
But Eldrin's Verdant Magic had come from something innate, a gift unique to him, like Parseltongue.
And Regulus clearly didn't have that gift.
He didn't know how much time passed before he finally pulled his hand back, fingertips leaving the crystal.
Orion leaned in at once. "Well? How is it?"
Regulus's mouth tugged downward, just slightly. "It's… fine."