Narcissa was stunned by his words. She didn't believe for a second that Regulus truly cared about Abraxas's health, nor did she think he even wished for Abraxas to be healthy.
If it were any other young wizard, it might have been genuine concern or a mere social nicety, but Regulus?
She had come to realize that Regulus was completely different from ordinary young wizards; his mind was so meticulous and complex that it even surpassed many of the old-timers.
His perspective on issues was even more unusual, sometimes even sharp.
Abraxas Malfoy, Lucius's father and the current head of the Malfoy family, was a wily old fox to his very core.
His health was directly related to the future direction of the House of Malfoy.
"He has some minor ailments, but his spirits are high," Narcissa answered cautiously.
Although her heart was with the House of Black and she cared for Regulus, the Malfoys were, after all, her future in-laws.
Regulus smiled. "Then I should properly prepare a meeting gift."
He had already received an invitation to the Malfoy family's Christmas dinner—a separate invitation, apart from the Black family. This showed either great respect or ulterior motives.
The two chatted for a few more moments about trivial family matters before Narcissa stood up. She reached out to gently tidy the collar of Regulus's robes and then bid him farewell.
When she reached the door of the girls' dormitory, she looked back at Regulus with a complex expression that eventually settled into a slight nod.
Regulus sat alone on the sofa until the fire gradually died down.
He mentally reviewed the conversation: his communication with Narcissa had achieved its goals. He had established deeper trust, clarified channels for information sharing, and subtly conveyed his own stance.
He hadn't said anything that could be used against him, yet everything that needed to be said had been said.
Narcissa was shrewd, realistic, valued family and kinship, and had a line she wouldn't cross.
In the original story, she was willing to betray Lord Voldemort for the sake of Draco.
Regulus decided to trust her a little more.
Narcissa would soon marry Lucius Malfoy, and the Malfoy family was still under Abraxas's control.
That elder Malfoy was no pushover; in the early days of cooperation with Lord Voldemort, the House of Malfoy had even held a dominant position.
But later, Abraxas died suddenly of dragon pox, Lucius took over, and the House of Malfoy was reduced to being Lord Voldemort's money bag.
Dragon pox was an incurable disease in the wizarding world; a wizard without some "real skill" wouldn't even be able to contract such a disease.
Abraxas's death was too sudden, and the timing was far too coincidental.
Regulus didn't believe in coincidences; it would be far too unreasonable if there wasn't something going on behind the scenes.
He decided to mention this to Orion after returning home for Christmas. If there was an inside story to the Malfoy transition, the Blacks had better know in advance.
He thought of the tragedies in the original story: Sirius completely breaking with the family; Walburga never knowing what her eldest son was thinking until the day she died, nor knowing how her younger son had died.
Narcissa and Bella taking different paths, their sisterly bond existing in name only.
In the end, except for Narcissa and the disowned Andromeda, not a single member of the House of Black was left alive.
Too many misunderstandings, too many information gaps—in the end, everyone lost.
He could not repeat those mistakes. Fortunately, he wasn't much of a pushover either…
As he pushed open the dormitory door, Avery was sitting on his bed polishing his wand, Hermes was writing at the desk, and Alex was curled up in his blankets with only half his head showing.
"Regulus," Avery looked up and asked impatiently, "with the scene today, weren't you really afraid a fight would break out?"
He had been holding this question in all day. No matter how he thought about it, he couldn't understand why Regulus had stepped forward in that situation.
It didn't match his impression of Regulus, nor did it match the family education he had received.
In that scene earlier today, one wrong move could have led to being targeted by everyone. Even if Regulus was highly skilled, he couldn't possibly handle a siege by so many wizards.
Regulus took off his outer robe and hung it up, but he didn't intend to answer the question directly. He naturally wasn't afraid of a real fight, especially since the leaders of both houses were present and had been instantly subdued by him.
But he had been constantly monitoring several troublemakers, such as Sirius, James Potter, and a few insidious characters from Slytherin; he was confident he could suppress them.
Furthermore, he did not fear being targeted by a group of young wizards.
Regulus turned to look at Avery and asked in return, "What benefit would a fight bring me?"
Avery was stunned. Was that what I meant?
"House points deducted, personal detention, and possible injury," Regulus said, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "Preventing the conflict, however, allows me to demonstrate my ability, consolidate my status, and leave a good impression on the professors. Which one is more worthwhile?"
Avery blinked and followed Regulus's logic. "But wouldn't that seem not tough enough? Some upper-year students were discussing in the common room just now, saying you were too… restrained."
Regulus raised an eyebrow slightly at this. He knew the original words certainly weren't that polite.
"Let them talk," Regulus said dismissively. "What I need is influence, not blustering toughness.
After today, Lucretius Boke owes me a favor, and Frank Longbottom has to consider that if it weren't for me, he might have been punished.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn both saw how I handled it. This is much more valuable than having a scrap with Gryffindors in a corridor."
Influence is an abstract thing, but at certain moments, influence can be converted into power, and this requires constant, subtle cultivation.
Avery thought for a moment and slowly nodded. "I understand. You want to place yourself in the position of the 'problem solver'."
Among the heirs carefully cultivated by pure-blood families, there were certainly fools, but more often they were true elites. With just a little hint, Avery had grasped the key.
"Smart," Regulus offered a rare compliment. "So, Avery, help me keep an eye out for who has the biggest problem with my approach and who is gossiping the most behind my back."
Avery's eyes lit up. "Are you going to deal with them?"
"No," Regulus shook his head. "I want to know who the fools are. A real opponent won't jump out over such a small matter. Only a fool would develop hostility toward me over a single Quidditch conflict.
Just take note of such fools; they might be useful later."
He looked toward Hermes. "And you? Any discoveries today?"
Hermes put down his quill and turned halfway. "Rabastan Lestrange. During the match, he was sitting diagonally behind us, watching you the whole time.
After the match ended, he was the first to leave the stands, but he didn't return to the common room. I had Rosier follow him for a bit."
Alex poked his head out from the blankets and said in a small voice, "He went to that abandoned Potions classroom on the fourth floor. He was alone and stayed for about ten minutes before coming out."
Regulus narrowed his eyes slightly, immediately concluding that the boy intended to target him.
Truly like a toad crawling on one's foot—it doesn't bite, but it's disgusting. However, such a minor character wasn't worth his time; it was more appropriate to leave it to his roommates.
Regulus turned to face the group. "Can you handle it before Christmas?"
The corner of Hermes's mouth curled into a dark arc. "I have an idea…"
After that, Regulus no longer participated in the discussion. This was essentially a small activity he had assigned them to improve their cohesion.
He walked back to his bed and organized the textbooks he would need for tomorrow.
Avery looked at him and suddenly asked again, "By the way, Regulus, did you really do that today just to show influence? Nothing else?"
Regulus's hands didn't stop their movements. "What are you referring to?"
"I mean…" Avery hesitated slightly, his tone uncertain, as if he had thought for a long time before deciding to ask. "…You seem particularly concerned with controlling the situation.
In the corridor today, you were the first to stand at the very front and the first to step in and stop it… It didn't seem like a spur-of-the-moment decision."
Regulus turned around and looked at Avery.
This heir of the Cuthbert family had good observational skills. He didn't see things deeply enough yet, but he would think toward the depths.
This was a good quality, especially within pure-blood families.
"Avery," Regulus spoke slowly, "in Slytherin, there are two types of people.
One type waits for things to happen and then reacts passively. The other type predicts that things will happen and prepares a response in advance."
He continued, "If Slytherin uses foul play to win, Gryffindor will definitely cause a scene after the match. That is inevitable.
Since it was inevitable, I thought about how to handle it beforehand, rather than waiting for the conflict to erupt before frantically trying to find a solution."
Avery looked thoughtful, knowing that Regulus was saying he was the second type of person.
"As for why I had to stand at the very front," the corners of Regulus's mouth curled slightly, "it's because position determines perspective.
Standing in the back, you can only see chaos. Standing in the front, you can clearly see everyone's reaction—who is impulsive, who is calm, who is observing in the shadows, and who is taking the opportunity to incite others."
He recalled the faces in the corridor today: Lucretius Boke's shock when his wrist was pinned, and the worry and concern in Narcissa's eyes.
Frank Longbottom's bewilderment after his spell was interrupted, and the embarrassment of James Potter and Sirius jumping up and down in the crowd while being ignored by everyone.
All of this could only be seen clearly by standing at the very front.
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