Prologue
“It would do good, for both of the houses and the wizarding world if this marriage were to be completed.” Dumbeldore finished, and clasped his hands together.
Regulus couldn’t help but stare, dumbfounded. James and Sirius, both seated next to her, had a similar reaction, if not worse.
Still, she stayed silent. Her decision would be that of her parents, regardless of her emotions.
Walburga Black scoffed and rolled her eyes. “And marry my daughter off to a filthy blood traitor? Never.”
Sirius could not hold his tongue at that, and turned angrily towards his mother. Besides him, James remained unmoving.
“Not everyone is desperate to marry into this hellhole." He snapped.
Walburga did not spare Sirius a glance but replied rather roughly. “A stain of dishonor on our family has no say or meddling in what we do.”
For a moment, it seemed that the two were about to erupt into a fight. Regulus placed a hand on his mother’s and lightly squeezed it.
“Ça te ferait du bien de l'ignorer, mère.” She muttered. Walburga seemed to deflate a bit when hearing her words.
Dumbledore’s calm gaze swept over the room, clearly unfazed by the volatile reactions brewing before him.
"This arrangement is not merely for convenience but necessity," he added, as though to placate Walburga’s sharp disdain. "The alliance between the Potters and the Blacks could unite powerful forces against what lies ahead. Further prevent the rise of the Dark Lord, lessen the tensions between the houses and lineages."
Regulus felt her chest tighten. It was one thing to theorize about the possibility of such a marriage; it was entirely another to hear it stated so boldly. They feared that she would become a Death Eater–they wanted to reel her in. Her eyes darted toward James, whose jaw was tight, lips pressed into a thin line. He looked equal parts horrified and shocked. Sirius, however, was far from conflicted.
"You’re out of your bloody mind if you think James is going to just—just agree to this," Sirius barked, his voice trembling with anger. He shot Dumbledore a glare that could melt steel before spinning toward his mother. "And you —how can you sit there and act as though anyone would want to marry into this family? It’s a damn prison, and you know it!"
Walburga’s composure cracked, just slightly. Her lips curled into a sneer as she met Sirius’s eyes. "Better a prison than the chaos you have chosen to align yourself with. Or have you forgotten, Sirius, what happens when bloodlines are sullied and traditions are discarded? You would do well to remember where your loyalty ought to lie."
Dumbledore’s expression remained neutral, though his eyes twinkled faintly behind his half-moon glasses. "Miss Black," he said, addressing her with a tone that suggested he knew more than he let on, "you are, of course, entitled to your thoughts. But I urge you to consider the greater good—"
Regulus’s lips pressed together into a thin line. The "greater good." How often had those words been used to justify suffering, to push her into corners she could not escape?
Still, she inclined her head slightly, keeping her composure as she replied, "The decision is not mine alone, Professor Dumbledore. It rests with my parents." Her voice was measured, almost distant, though the turmoil in her chest was anything but.
Walburga seemed pleased with her daughter's response, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
"For once, someone in this room remembers their place," she remarked icily, her gaze flicking dismissively toward Sirius.
Sirius bristled, his hands clenching into fists. "Reg, you don’t have to—"
"Stop," Regulus cut him off. She looked at him briefly, her expression unreadable. "This isn’t about you."
Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but James placed a hand on his shoulder, a silent gesture to calm him. It was rare for James to be the voice of restraint, but even he seemed to sense the delicate tension in the room.
"Regulus," James said finally, his tone quieter but no less intense, "do you even want this?" His hazel eyes searched her face for any hint of what she was truly feeling.
Regulus hesitated, her hands folding neatly in her lap. "What I want doesn’t matter," she said softly, her gaze fixed on the floor. "What matters is what must be done."
Sirius’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as he shot to his feet. "Bloody hell, Reg, you sound just like her!" He jabbed a finger in Walburga’s direction, his voice raw with frustration. "You’re going to let her dictate your whole life? Let her sell you off like you’re nothing but a pawn?"
"Enough!" Regulus’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. For a moment, the room fell silent, all eyes on her. "This is not the time for theatrics, nor is it the place for family grievances. If there is to be a discussion, it should be civil."
Sirius blinked, momentarily stunned, but his anger quickly resurfaced. "Civil? They’re trying to control your life, Reg!"
"And what would you have me do?" she snapped, her voice uncharacteristically loud. "Defy my parents? Who gave me everything? Run away and abandon my loved ones like you did? I needed you then, Sirius, not now!" Her words were harsh, but her tone carried an edge of bitterness, and perhaps something else—envy.
Sirius recoiled as if struck, and James stood, placing himself between the siblings.
"Alright, that’s enough," he said, his voice firm. He turned to Dumbledore, his expression dark. "This is madness, Professor. You can’t honestly think this is the solution."
Dumbledore regarded him with calm patience. "Madness, perhaps, to some. But unity is what the wizarding world needs now, Mr. Potter. And unity often requires sacrifice. Might I add, the Ministry is demanding a marriage. Miss Black may find herself wed to Peter Pettigrew instead, and Mr. Potter to one of the Blacks?"
Regulus wrinkled her nose. Beside her, Walburga barked out a laugh.
“I’d rather marry my daughter off to a Lestrange than have that pig touch a hair from her head,” she said with disdain, casting a scathing glance at Dumbledore.
“Ah, Mrs. Black, this marriage is meant to appease the efforts of the Dark Lord,” Dumbledore replied gently, as if he hadn’t just stirred the room into chaos.
James leaned closer to Sirius, lowering his voice but not enough to keep the edge of panic from slipping out. “Padfoot, I am not marrying one of your cousins.”
Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically. “Marrying my sister is not a better option, Prongs.”
“Well, she’s not trying to kill me on sight, so there’s that,” James muttered back, rubbing his temples.
“Oh, give her time,” Sirius quipped, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “She has a whole lifetime to regret this arrangement—and trust me, the Black family knows how to hold grudges.”
Regulus, catching their hushed exchange, shot them both a pointed glare. “I’m right here, you know.”
Sirius shrugged, unbothered. “Doesn’t make it any less true, Reg.”
"Je commence à avoir de la rancune contre ton connard d'ami à partir de maintenant, Sirius." Regulus replied. She turned her head away and brushed her hair back with a finger.
James groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Great. My future wife is probably going to hex me into oblivion whilst speaking French. Fantastic.”
“Who said I’m agreeing to this stupid marriage.” Regulus snapped. “I’m still a seventh year student.”
“Didn’t Bellatrix get married when she was 17–” James began.
Walburga’s face twisted into a sneer, her voice dripping with venom.
“Enough idle talk. You expect me to stand by and watch my daughter marry into a family of blood traitors ?” Her gaze swept across the room, landing on James with open disdain. “The Potters have no respect for tradition, for purity. They are an insult to everything the Black name stands for.”
James shifted uncomfortably, glaring back at her. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Black. I didn’t realize ‘family honor’ included raising a bunch of people who think the sun shines out of their own—”
“ Enough .” Dumbledore’s voice, quiet but commanding, sliced through the escalating tension. “I understand your concerns, but I must remind you that this union is not a matter of personal preference. It is a necessity for the survival of our world. To birth the boy of the prophecy, to stop the rise of Death Eaters.”
Walburga's lips parted to fire back, but Dumbledore lifted a hand, halting her. “The Ministry, alongside certain... other influential parties, has reached an agreement. This marriage will proceed. If you wish to preserve your family’s honor, it would be wise to comply rather than resist.”
Walburga's eyes burned as they snapped to James and Sirius, who visibly recoiled under her glare.
“Out! The lot of you!” she shrieked. “Regulus, you too!”
The three did not need to be reminded twice, and immediately scurried out, Regulus doing so albeit slowly and in a relaxed manner.
As the door clicked shut behind them, Walburga's voice echoed one last time, sharp and furious: “--Just wait until my husband hears about this!”
“...The boy of the prophecy,” James muttered. “How would Dumbeldore know that the boy would be born of this marriage?”
“I heard it was Severus who heard the prophecy and relayed it.” Regulus said thoughtfully. “Regardless, the child will not be from me. I am not one to defy the Dark Lord.”
Sirius, still fuming, snapped his head toward her.
“Oh, come off it, Reg! Is that why you’re so calm about this? Because you’d roll over for that crazy lunatic?”
Regulus’s icy gaze locked onto Sirius, her posture rigid.
“You misunderstand me, brother ,” she replied coldly. “I have no intention of becoming anyone’s sacrificial lamb. But unlike you, I know how to bide my time. This marriage? It’s a farce, a performance to dissuade the likes of the Dark Lord and benefit those who oppose him. I’ll play along—for now, if mother wills it. That doesn’t mean I’m surrendering.”
James raised a brow. “And when you’re expected to provide the heir of this so-called prophecy? Then what?”
Regulus’s lips twitched into a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Let them try to bind me to their plans. They forget that even pawns can become queens when the board changes.”
At that, the door opened once more, revealing Walburga who was positively fuming . She walked past James and Sirius, completely ignoring them.
“Follow me Reglus,” She commanded. “There are lessons to be taught today; your cousins will be there to help.”
James watched Regulus follow her mother out the hall. The girl took extremely poised steps, and always ensuring to stand a few steps behind her mother. Very obedient, unlike Sirius.
He sighed. “What lessons are they talking about?”
Sirius hummed. “I reckon it’s those marriage lessons on how to be a proper wife and whatnot.”
“...Already?”
“Just another thing in the list of the Black family’s madness,” Sirius replied, concern evident in his voice. “Narcissa and Bellatrix had similar lessons. Terrifying really, more like a brainwashing lesson on submission.”