After dinner, Regulus slipped quietly into the Slytherin Common Room.
"Regulus Black!" A voice, equal parts gentle and commanding, stopped him in his tracks.
Silky golden hair, pale blue eyes, graceful posture, and that aristocratic poise that set her above the crowd—it could only be his cousin, Narcissa Black, seventh-year and undisputed beauty of Slytherin House.
The sixties and seventies were a golden era for the Black family at Hogwarts; one after another, their children filled its halls. From Bellatrix to Andromeda, and now Narcissa, the title of Slytherin's most radiant girl had always seemed to belong to the daughters of the House of Black.
Being born a Black was a talent in itself.
Regulus, quiet and unassuming, was practically an anomaly among them.
The sound of his full name from Narcissa's lips made his stomach twist. Cissy wasn't fiery like Andromeda, nor manic like Bellatrix. She looked soft, sweet even—but she was sharp. Ruthless, when it counted. And dangerous precisely because she could smile while twisting the knife. Too many men fell for it.
Even Lucius, her boyfriend, probably didn't know the half of it.
Regulus bowed politely, resigned to take whatever lecture was coming.
"Regulus, word of what you did has already reached the family."
He kept silent, face arranged in the perfect mask of guilty regret.
"Jumping from the Astronomy Tower. What possessed you?"
Still guilty silence.
Say less, risk less. Silence is golden.
"Or have you let those idiotic Gryffindors rub off on you?" Her tone softened, concern creeping in. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? Don't you dare do something so reckless again."
"I'm graduating soon. You'll be the last Black left in Slytherin. Remember—you cannot shame the family." Narcissa sighed faintly, the thought of another cousin clearly weighing on her mind. "Don't worry. Lucius and I have already spoken to our friends in the house. They'll keep an eye on you."
Regulus bit back a groan. Death Eater babysitters, then. Wonderful.
Dumbledore really ought to take a look—recruitment was happening right under his nose.
Another seventh-year Slytherin called out, waving Narcissa over.
"Cissy, I need a word—" He glanced at Regulus.
One look from Narcissa was enough. Regulus nodded quickly and turned toward the boys' dormitory.
His new Assassin's Creed perks had sharpened more than just his reflexes; his hearing was sharper too.
"It's about Lucius, the Dark—"
Regulus picked up the pace.
…
Later, carrying the ornate family-supplied kit, he arrived at Horace Slughorn's office.
Ever since unlocking the Assassin's Creed system, his days had been packed. He hadn't even properly tested his new skills yet, though sneaking silently behind classmates in corridors had earned him a few points in Stealth.
And somehow, flimsy desks in classrooms worked as cover—people looked right past him as if Confunded.
He rapped politely on the office door. A snake-shaped knocker flicked its tongue, and the door swung open.
The office was lavish: a massive chandelier, cabinets lined with trophies and jars, a wide desk and potion station. The sweet tang of wine clung to Slughorn himself, seated behind the desk.
And there was someone else.
Oily black hair, thin frame, hooked nose. Not even a boyish face could soften the brooding aura.
Severus Snape.
The Half-Blood Prince himself.
Regulus felt the pressure immediately. Plotlines he didn't know, heavy hitters everywhere. He bowed his head. "Good evening, Professor. Evening, Severus."
Snape blinked, clearly not expecting him to acknowledge him at all.
"Ah, you know Severus. Good, good," Slughorn said cheerfully. "A very gifted wizard in Potions. You're only in second year, aren't you?"
Snape gave a proud nod.
"He volunteered to help me with ingredients." Slughorn gestured at the preparation table.
"Professor, a small gift." Regulus opened his case, revealing a crystal bottle filled with shimmering golden liquid.
Slughorn's eyes lit up as he took it with exaggerated delight. "Oh, what's this?"
"A Hungarian Tokaji sweet wine, Professor. I missed your birthday last month. I remembered you said you enjoyed sweet vintages, so I brought this back from home over the holidays. I wanted to give it to you in person."
"You shouldn't have—marvellous, marvellous!" Slughorn beamed. "And how are your parents, Orion and Walburga?"
"Very well, thank you, sir."
"Good, good. Give them my regards. Your Levitation Charm was excellent, you know. Not that I'm keen on detaining you, but Hogwarts doesn't encourage… well, stunts. With all those Gryffindor lions already keeping Filch busy enough."
"Tonight, you and Severus can help me with ingredients. The tools are here—ah, but I see you've brought your own."
Regulus laid out his family's portable potion kit, silver and crystal tools etched with the Black crest. Snape's eyes flickered—impressed, then resentful.
Regulus himself? Average talent. But with wealth, connections, and gifts for professors? Snape hated how much it mattered. He had no idea yet that his own future would be shaped by the same man standing across from him.
Regulus, oblivious, Scourgified his hands and picked up a silver knife, pressing down on a shrivelled sopophorous bean.
Juice poured out in surprising quantity, far more than its withered form suggested.
Snape froze. According to Advanced Potion-Making, you were supposed to slice the bean. And yet Regulus's method… worked. It worked well.
Snape, who always saw Sirius as a reckless idiot, had written off Regulus as a silent shadow. Just another Black, nothing more. But maybe—just maybe—the Blacks had more substance than he'd thought.
Regulus saw Snape calmly mirror the technique, and relaxed. At least he hadn't embarrassed himself. Little did he know Snape was thinking the exact same thing.
They worked side by side, following Slughorn's instructions, and for once nothing went wrong.
Regulus caught himself wondering—this office would belong to the boy next to him one day. He drifted in thought, only to find Snape staring back with narrowed eyes.
That look said: What are you staring at?
"I was just imagining how you'd decorate this office, Severus," Regulus said smoothly.
Snape rolled his eyes.
"With your talent, you could easily be teaching us one day," Regulus added, dead serious.
Another eye-roll. But Snape's mouth twitched anyway.
…
By the time detention was winding down, Slughorn had left. Regulus was tidying up when he noticed Snape sneaking glances, clearly waiting for him to leave.
"Want to walk back to the Common Room together?" Regulus asked.
"You go ahead. I've more ingredients to finish," Snape said, voice a shade too dramatic. Obvious cover.
"Very well. Goodnight." Regulus shut the door gently, leaving a small crack.
The corridor was quiet. His footsteps echoed clearly as he walked away. Then he slipped back, activating Stealth, and crept noiselessly to the door.
[Stealth proficiency +1]
From his robe he drew a small mirror, angling it through the gap.
Inside, Snape pulled a hidden jar from the wall and tucked something inside.
Caught. Not a single angel in this school.
Interesting..