HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

On Friday afternoon, the owl brought Kreacher's second letter, which was even shorter:

"The healer left, saying there was nothing he could do but let him rest. The mistress cried every day. The master refused to see anyone. The Nott family sent someone to inquire and bring medicine, but the master threw them out. Miss Bella came by, very angry, and called the young master a 'good-for-nothing,' a 'coward,' and 'a disgrace to Black's honor,' before leaving. The young master woke up, but was very weak, and asked Kreacher to thank everyone."

"Bella's reaction is a good thing." Ian burned the note. "The angrier and more contemptuous she is, the more it shows that she believes Regulus really messed up and became a useless loser."

"The Nott family's medicine delivery was thrown out... Orion Black is truly in pain and furious this time, but it also shows that he doesn't intend to let others interfere in his son's affairs for the time being, which gives us time."

"Next, we just wait," Aris said. "We wait until Regulus recovers a bit and returns to school. That will be the real test. He will have to play the role of a patient with a wounded soul, unstable magic, and a bleak future in front of everyone."

"He'll do a good job." Severus closed the book and looked out into the darkness. "He has no way out."

A few days later, after Regulus's condition stabilized in St. Mungo, he was taken back to Black's old house to continue his "recuperation".

In early November, he returned to Hogwarts.

He looked much thinner, with sunken cheeks and a pale complexion as if he hadn't seen the sun in a long time, and dark circles under his eyes.

Her once meticulously combed black hair had become somewhat dull, and it softly fell across her forehead.

He was wearing a thick sweater and cloak, and seemed particularly afraid of the cold. His steps were a little unsteady as he walked in the corridor. Occasionally, he would stop, lean against the wall and pant slightly, or raise his hand to press his forehead and furrow his brow.

He no longer participated in any club activities, and remained silent like a shadow in class. The magical output from the tip of his wand became unstable. In one spell class, he even failed to cast the Disarming Charm and was instead knocked back a step by the weak force of the wand's rebound, his face turning pale.

Slughorn was very caring towards him, but also deeply distressed. He exempted him from many practical assignments, only requiring him to complete the theoretical parts.

Mrs. Pomfrey ordered him to go to the medical wing twice a week for a check-up, and Lily would talk to him for a few minutes each time, her eyes full of sympathy.

Within Slytherin, those who had once surrounded him unconsciously distanced themselves from him.

The gaze that once held scrutiny and a desire to win them over has turned into pity, disdain, or complete indifference.

A Black who is "damaged in spirit," whose future is uncertain, and who may not even be able to pass NEWTs smoothly, has lost most of his value.

He completely slipped out of that suffocating center and became a marginalized "patient" who needed care.

Thursday night, The Room of Requirement.

When Regulus pushed open the door, he was still wrapped in a thick cloak, but when he closed the door, shutting out the outside world, and sat down by the fire, something seemed different beneath the sickly aura that enveloped him.

He took off his cloak, his movements slow but steady.

He raised his eyes and looked at his friends in the room. His gray-blue eyes were no longer empty and desperate, but rather filled with a weariness and clarity after experiencing pain, as well as a deep sense of relief.

"They believed me." His voice was still a little hoarse, but very clear. "Bella thought I had become a disgrace to the family and didn't deserve any more favor. My parents... were heartbroken and disappointed, but at least for now, they haven't mentioned the oath again. The Nott family... haven't contacted me again."

Ian poured him a cup of hot tea. "How are you feeling? The medication is still working."

"Headache, fatigue, and heightened sensitivity to loud noises and strong emotions." Regulus took the teacup, holding it with both hands, absorbing its warmth. "But it's bearable, better than I expected..."

"The runes will completely dissipate before Christmas, and the effects of the potion will gradually wear off," Severus said. "Afterward, you will slowly recover, but you will never return to your previous state. Your magical stability may be permanently worse, and your tolerance for advanced dark magic will decrease; these are all reasonable side effects."

"You need to get used to this new role, Regulus Black, a patient who has ruined his future through ambition and folly and needs careful nurturing."

Regulus nodded slowly.

"The patient... is doing well," he said softly, his gaze fixed on the leaping flames. "At least, he's alive."

The crackling fire illuminated several young yet solemn faces.

The crisis has temporarily passed, but everyone knows that this is only the beginning.

They used lies and potions to snatch a companion from the dark tide, but the tide continued to rise, and the shadows never truly left.

Regulus slowly finished the cup of tea, the warmth flowing down his throat and dispelling some of the chill seeping from his bones.

He put down the cup, his fingers unconsciously tracing the upper part of his left arm, where it appeared smooth, but only he could feel the slightly warm, slowly melting rune traces beneath his skin.

"My father..." he began again, his voice even lower, "Although disappointed, perhaps because of this incident, he has a reason to postpone certain... urgings. Yesterday at dinner, he said to my mother, 'What can we expect from Rael in his current state? Let him recover first.'"

"This means that, at least temporarily, your value in their eyes has changed from a 'bargain that needs to be used as soon as possible' to an 'asset that needs to be carefully maintained,' even if it is a depreciating asset."

Aris calmly analyzed, "This buys you some breathing room and reduces the likelihood that they will force you to participate in dangerous matters."

Kevin breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping slightly: "That's good, at least you can have a peaceful Christmas."

"Peaceful?" Regulus repeated the word, a bitter look crossing his face. "Christmas at the Black family mansion has never been peaceful, but... at least we don't have to face the worst kind of 'festivities'."

He paused, then looked at Severus and Ian: "Thanks, and... I'm sorry to have dragged you into this. If Nott or Bella investigate further..."

"They can't trace it back to us," Ian interrupted him, his tone certain. "The theoretical basis of your research, those tattered notes, points to several long-lost, unorthodox schools of thought, which match the fragments of information you usually get from the Slughorn Club and even Nott and his group. As for the idea of ​​the Soul Relaxant..."

He glanced at Severus. "Everyone knows that Severus publicly admitted his failure at the tea party and that his research bottleneck was the translation of ancient runes."

"And you, Regulus, your ancient runes have always been a zero, so it's perfectly reasonable for you to try to crack them from another direction in private. Most importantly, you failed, and at a heavy price, which only proves how dangerous and unfeasible this field is, which is good for all of us."

Severus nodded in agreement; the foreshadowing they had laid when they abandoned the research had now become the best cover-up.