Just as they returned to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons, the cheerful mood from their clash with Peeves still lingered in the air. Prefect Flint gave the new students a few words of encouragement and was about to send them off to their dormitories—
"When I call on first-years: anyone whose parents are either both wizards or both non-magical, step forward."
A rough voice cut through the room, completely ruining the good atmosphere.
It came from Rabastan Lestrange, a fifth-year standing beside the prefect.
This Rabastan was the younger brother of Rodolphus Lestrange, who would become Regulus's cousin-in-law. He was a large, burly bloke with an ordinary face that constantly wore a sinister, icy expression.
Three wide-eyed, confused first-years stepped forward.
Prefect Flint looked over in confusion, hesitated a moment, but said nothing.
Surrounded by the watching crowd of first-years and a few upper-years, young Lestrange put on an arrogant, rude, thoroughly unpleasant fake smile:
"You lot can clean the common room tonight!"
When Regulus had first started school the previous year, no such scene had taken place.
"But there's nothing to clean here," said one of the kids, a boy named Fry, whose complete lack of awareness was almost impressive.
At that, Rabastan shoved a fruit platter off a nearby table. With the crashing of shattering porcelain, a heap of fruit spilled all over the floor.
"Now there is."
From Regulus's vantage point, he saw Fry furrow his brows in confusion, his left hand reaching toward something at his waist. Prefect Flint still wore a helpless expression, but didn't intervene.
Flint, too, came from a pure-blood wizarding family after all.
That Lestrange—how utterly brainless. Did he not realize that his future boss was a half-blood?
A Sorting Hat-certified Slytherin, and yet instead of solidarity, he was here bullying first-years.
"Reparo." With that silent disapproval in his heart, Regulus calmly stepped into the center of the commotion, waved his wand, and spoke the incantation smoothly.
The shattered porcelain dish reassembled itself, and the scattered fruit floated back neatly onto the table.
Severus looked at him in astonishment. He had always thought Regulus was the type to keep his head down and stay out of trouble.
"It's already late. You wouldn't want them missing class tomorrow and costing Slytherin House points, would you?" Regulus said casually, his faint smile holding about seventy percent of Sirius's usual punch.
Rabastan was equally stunned.
He was a fifth-year—and a Lestrange at that. He had never expected the younger Black, just a second-year, to defy him so openly in front of everyone...
What, was the Black family not untouchable anymore?
Rabastan barely managed to choke back his fury. He recalled Lucius's warnings and the talent Regulus had shown. His face twisted into a livid shade of purple.
"Black, what do you think you're doing? Are you even a Slytherin?"
Regulus raised an eyebrow and said slowly, "The Sorting Hat was made by Slytherin himself. Are you questioning Slytherin's judgment?"
"They… they're just half-bloods, maybe even Mudbloods!"
Among the clueless first-years, a few didn't yet know what Mudblood meant, but they could tell from the context it wasn't a good word.
"Then they're still Slytherins," Regulus said, his tone turning cold.
"And I suggest you refrain from using such low-class language in public. It's entirely lacking in elegance," Regulus continued.
"Also, if you want to pick a fight with every non-pure-blood in the school, do it yourself. Don't drag the house into it."
"I—I never said I wanted to fight all the non-pure-bloods—" Rabastan hurriedly denied it. He wasn't completely stupid; he understood the weight of such an accusation.
"The Lestranges… ha." Regulus let out a soft laugh, full of implication.
Rabastan's heart gave a jolt. He immediately began racking his brain for any family secrets the Blacks might know. He had no idea—
It was a total bluff.
Dumbledore had once said that "so-called pure-blood families maintain the illusion of blood purity by denying or lying about the presence of Muggles or Muggle-borns in their lineage."
Even the Blacks had to strike "traitors" from the family tree. Regulus refused to believe the Lestranges were any purer—just looking at Rabastan and his brother, with their twisted behavior, there had to be a few skeletons in their closet.
"You lot head back to your dorms and rest," Regulus told the first-years.
The shaken half-blood students gave him grateful smiles.
Heh~ Regulus remained cool and aloof, keeping up his composed image.
…
Aside from that small incident, Regulus also signed up for the Quidditch team tryouts.
He had inherited Regulus's deep love for Quidditch, so no matter how busy he was, he had to give it a shot.
And the story of how he handled Peeves had, through the poltergeist's own songs, spread across all the houses.
Aside from Rabastan grinding his teeth every time he saw him, Regulus's school life was fulfilling, smooth, and enjoyable.
Also, the first full moon of September 1973 was fast approaching.
In Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, Severus and Regulus were huddled together, brewing an Invigoration Draught.
During a break, Severus was happily reading the Contemporary Potions magazine he had borrowed from the library.
"Reg, do you remember Damocles Belby? The upperclassman Professor Slughorn mentioned—this magazine says he's made a major breakthrough with the Wolfsbane Potion and is currently in a critical phase of research," said Snape with genuine respect.
!!
"Oh, right, I remember. One of those Slug Club types," Regulus quickly leaned over, their two small heads bumping together as they looked at the article. "And there's a Belby who started school this year too…"
…
Elsewhere, Sirius and James had just secretly seen Remus off to the Shrieking Shack.
They remained under the Invisibility Cloak the entire way back, only removing it after re-entering the castle.
They stuck to less-traveled corridors, but just before turning a corner, loud voices reached them from the hallway ahead.
They slipped back under the Invisibility Cloak. As they peeked around the corner, Sirius's face twisted into a look of disgust.
"That tall one—that's Rabastan Lestrange," he whispered to James.
At that moment, Rabastan had two first-years cornered, wand in hand and a rather nasty expression on his face.
"Aren't they all Slytherins?" James frowned in confusion. "Why's he bullying two first-year students?"
"Bullying first-years—is that really all you've got?"
A familiar voice cut through—
Rabastan turned his head and saw Regulus standing coldly to the side, wand in hand.
Beside him, Severus also held his wand at the ready, clearly prepared for a fight.
"How about we settle this with a proper duel—just wands, wizard to wizard? If you lose, you stop bothering the younger students," said Regulus.
"I'll be Reg's second," came two voices at once—Snape and Sirius, who had darted out from under the Invisibility Cloak.
"You.. You.. Hmph!"x2
They immediately shot each other a glare, then turned away with synchronized contempt.
Regulus nearly burst out laughing.
Rabastan, also from a wizarding family, stood frozen: this little Black, this second-year little Black, wanted to duel him?
"Cruel and wicked Black… cruel and wicked Black… bound to be a dark wizard when he grows up!" Peeves, who never missed a bit of drama inside the castle, popped out suddenly from the ceiling above.
"What, are you scared?" Sirius gave a classic contemptuous smile, fully charged with mockery.
Rabastan's fists clenched so tightly they cracked. He cursed both Blacks in his head. A fifth-year dueling a second-year—there's no glory in winning, and losing would be humiliating beyond repair.
Rabastan hesitated, and Peeves launched his ultimate assist:
"Fifth-year Lestrange won't face little Black one-on-one… cruel and wicked Black… bound to be a dark wizard when he grows up!"
At the same time, Filch's wheezing voice could be heard coming from another corner.
Ugh! Shut the fuck up you fucking bitch ass poltergeist!! Rabastan cursed like he was raised in the hoods.