The common room had filled up by the time Regulus appeared, and every pair of eyes swung toward him.
Several students from Sacred Twenty-Eight families approached on their own, shaking his hand.
"Well played last night," a seventh-year said. "About time someone reminded the Belmonts where they stand."
A sixth-year nodded. "Well done."
Regulus returned each handshake with practiced courtesy, his grip measured.
Alecto Carrow hovered at the edge of the crowd, eyes blazing, the tip of her tongue tracing her lower lip as though she wanted to devour him whole.
The mid and lower-years didn't dare approach directly, but the way they looked at him had shifted overnight.
Awe laced with adoration. Regulus fit the image of strength they carried in their heads.
He moved through the crowd toward the exit.
In the armchair by the fireplace, Lucretius Burke sat exactly where he'd been the night before. When he spotted Regulus, he rose and walked over.
They shook hands. Lucretius squeezed a fraction harder than necessary, as though transmitting something wordless.
"Professor Slughorn came by an hour ago." His voice carried at a deliberate middle register. "He took Arnold Belmont with him. He wants you in his office after breakfast."
He leaned in slightly, dropping to a volume only the two of them could hear. "The professor seemed reasonable. I wouldn't worry."
Regulus nodded. "Thanks."
He wasn't worried.
From a house perspective, Slughorn was head of Slytherin, and a student being hexed into kneeling all night on his watch was, by any standard measure, severe.
But this was Slytherin. Standard measures didn't apply.
If anything, Slughorn stood to benefit from how this played out.
Regulus walked out of the common room, Cuthbert and the others trailing behind.
Narcissa was waiting in the corridor outside. When she saw him, she stepped forward.
Cuthbert and the others read the situation and fell back a few paces, giving them space.
Narcissa reached out first, straightening Regulus's cuffs, then adjusting his collar.
"If you need it," her voice took on a formal register, "the Malfoy family is prepared to offer support. Lucius wrote me this morning. He said he endorses what you did."
Regulus nodded. "Please thank Mr. Malfoy for me."
Then Narcissa smiled, and the formal mask fell away, replaced by something warmer.
"Regulus." Her voice softened. "I'm proud of you. I know I've said it before, more than once, but I need to say it again. I'm proud of you."
He looked at her. The sincerity and joy in her eyes were impossible to fake.
She was genuinely happy for her younger cousin, genuinely relieved that the House of Black had someone to carry it forward.
A flicker of warmth rose in his chest. He smiled back. "Well. I am your cousin."
Narcissa's eyes glistened, but she regained control almost instantly and patted his shoulder. "Go on. Professor Slughorn's waiting."
Regulus nodded and turned down the corridor toward the Great Hall.
Cuthbert and the others fell into step behind him. As they passed through the underground passageways, the stares they drew had doubled from the usual count.
Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were watching too, their expressions layered: curiosity, wariness, and a measure of respect all tangled together.
The news had spread.
Regulus kept his gaze forward, his pace steady.
He knew that starting today, the rumors circulating Hogwarts about Regulus Black would have a new chapter.
At breakfast, Orion's reply arrived.
When the owl landed in front of Regulus, several pairs of eyes around him locked onto it. After last night, any correspondence he received was a potential clue to be dissected.
He broke the seal and slid out the letter.
The message was brief:
Letter received. Situation understood. The Belmont family will face consequences.
Orion had sanctioned his handling of the matter and confirmed the family would follow through.
Regulus folded the letter, tucked it into his inner pocket, and went back to his fried egg.
A gaze drifted over from the Gryffindor table. Regulus looked up. His eyes met Sirius's across the gap between them.
Sirius sat with a fork in his hand, the food on his plate barely touched.
He watched Regulus with an expression that was hard to pin down. Confusion and something else beneath it.
Regulus could guess what was going through his head.
Sirius had heard about last night. With his way of thinking, the layers of maneuvering would be lost on him.
Why a single remark could trigger that scale of conflict. Why an accusation of disrespect could silence an entire house. Why Arnold Belmont had ended up the way he did.
Sirius would see only the surface.
Regulus had used magic to force a seventh-year student to kneel through the night, in a common room where people came and went freely.
But he also knew Regulus had been defending the family name, and that knotted his emotions into something he couldn't untangle.
He despised the Black family's Pure-blood supremacy. He despised the way tradition and rules were used as chains. He despised Walburga's fanatical obsession.
Yet watching Regulus defend that surname with such force, such conviction, such willingness to use violence if necessary... something nameless stirred inside him.
It was as though something he'd discarded, trampled underfoot, wanted to rip apart completely, was being picked up by someone else. Dusted off. Set on a shelf. Treated like it mattered.
The feeling was strange.
He wouldn't want the toy back. But there was something there. Offense? Loss?
He couldn't tell.
James Potter nudged him with an elbow, leaning in to say something.
Sirius turned back to his friend, and the easy, carefree grin climbed across his face again. He and James fell into their usual roughhousing, and whatever complicated thing had surfaced got pushed back down.
Regulus looked away and finished the last bite of his egg.
Outside Professor Slughorn's office, Regulus knocked. From inside came the same hearty voice as always: "Come in."
He pushed the door open.
Slughorn wore deep purple robes today, his hair neatly combed.
"Regulus sit."
Regulus settled into the armchair opposite the desk, back straight, hands resting on his knees.
Slughorn pulled a piece of parchment from the stack of papers, glanced at it, and set it down.
"Arnold Belmont." His tone was carefully neutral. "Was collected by his father early this morning. Health concerns. He'll be recovering off-campus for a few days."
He looked at Regulus. "His family has asked me to relay a request: that Hogwarts allow him to return for his N.E.W.T.s. Until then, he won't be coming back."
Regulus understood. The Belmont family was asking for his permission. A thought followed on its heels: Still worried about exams?
But it made no difference to him. Even if Arnold hadn't gone home, Regulus wouldn't have pursued anything further. The school chapter was closed. The rest was Orion's domain.
He doubted Arnold would get the chance to sit those exams. The House of Black didn't do things by halves. You either left something alone entirely, or you finished it.
Arnold would most likely remain too ill to test. Possibly for a long time.
None of that needed to be said aloud.
Regulus kept his expression unchanged, his tone respectful. "Professor, the matter between us is settled."
Slughorn's eyes lifted to his.
The message was easy enough to read. The matter between Regulus and Arnold was over. The matter between the House of Black and the Belmont family might be starting.
Slughorn held his gaze for a few seconds, then nodded without pressing further.
"This incident," he said, settling back in his chair, fingers laced over his stomach, "as far as I'm concerned, is closed."
Regulus inclined his head. "Thank you, Professor."
Slughorn was fully aware of the growing swell inside Slytherin. The purge rhetoric. The secret gatherings. The increasingly brazen fervor.
What Regulus had done last night had, in a sense, disrupted the momentum of that brewing campaign.
A look of weary resignation crossed the professor's face. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, as though nursing a headache.
"Regulus, I understand why you did what you did. The Belmont boy's approach was inappropriate. That setting, that tone... it was out of line."
He studied Regulus's reaction. Regulus sat quietly, posture deferential, every inch the well-behaved student.
"However," Slughorn pivoted, "keeping a student on his knees all night, in that manner... by school regulations, it's somewhat problematic."
Regulus understood. The professor was building him a staircase to step down gracefully.
Slughorn accepted and tacitly approved what he'd done, but as Head of House, he needed to maintain the appearance of fairness. That meant attaching a formal punishment so the whole affair looked properly concluded on paper.
Offense, consequence, resolution.
Everyone saved face. Regulus accepted his punishment, proving the professor hadn't played favorites. Slughorn upheld school rules, proving he'd fulfilled his duties as Head of House. And certain observers would note that the Black heir conducted himself with restraint, accepting discipline within the established framework.
"So." Slughorn looked at him. "Detention. One week. Sound fair?"
Regulus nodded. "I'm sorry for the trouble, Professor."
Slughorn laughed, neither accepting nor deflecting the remark.
Agreeing it was no trouble would amount to an official endorsement of Regulus's actions, which would look biased. Saying don't let it happen again would imply Regulus had been wrong, which wasn't the message either.
Best to laugh and move on.
"As for the detention itself," Slughorn twisted the gemstone ring on his finger, "you'll be helping me process potion ingredients. You know the sort. Venomous Tentacula sap, Boomslang skin. There's always work to be done."
"Understood, Professor."
Regulus stood and gave Slughorn a slight bow.
"Off you go, then." Slughorn waved a hand. "Class is waiting."
He left the office. The door clicked shut behind him.
And that was that. Procedural justice, complete.
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