Two o'clock, the Library.
Regulus sat in his usual spot by the window, a bound volume of back issues of Transfiguration Today open before him, stopped at a page somewhere in the middle. He hadn't turned it.
Time was up.
Finding books was a task anyone could handle. Madam Pince would have been more efficient than Samuel and Lina combined. She could locate any title with her eyes shut.
Bringing them here was about evaluation.
Could they get things done? How well? And what was their attitude afterward?
At two sharp, the pair appeared at the far end of the stacks.
Regulus didn't look up. He knew they'd been waiting outside for twenty minutes.
He even knew they'd been pacing the corridor, glancing at the clock on the wall, breathing fast then slow, their magical fluctuations rising and falling in time.
They'd arrived early but hadn't entered. Waited until the exact minute to push the door open.
They walked to his table and stopped across from him.
Lina's chin was slightly raised, eyes bright, the faintest upward curve at the corner of her mouth. Her hands hung at her sides, fingertips worrying the edge of her robe.
Samuel's shoulders were drawn in, head tilted down, gaze resting on the tabletop. Not meeting anyone's eyes.
Regulus looked up and tipped his chin toward the chairs opposite.
Lina dropped into hers.
Samuel was slower. He pulled the chair out from under the table, sat, shifted forward, and placed his hands on his knees.
Regulus let his gaze drift away. Let them play their little performances.
In a place like Slytherin, people clawed their way upward, joining every little circle they could find, desperate to be seen, hungry for a chance at climbing past their station.
Those chances were slim.
Snape had talent. With his potions talent, he could make a name. Build a reputation. Make Pure-blood families think of him when they needed a difficult brew.
Regulus turned these thoughts over, then glanced at the two across from him.
If Lina and Samuel proved capable, if they could demonstrate their value, he wouldn't mind providing resources. He'd watch to see how high they could climb.
The higher, the better.
Two half-bloods establishing themselves within Slytherin would speak volumes on its own.
Place them under Alex. A mild-mannered Pure-blood shepherding half-bloods. It could serve as an interface between their group and the outside.
After graduation, Regulus would need people who could reach where he couldn't extend his own hand.
Some tasks weren't suited for Pure-blood family members. Some information shouldn't travel through family channels. That was when these people would prove their worth.
Regulus understood the future trajectory. Half-bloods and Muggle-borns would inevitably rise, because Voldemort was going to hollow out the Pure-blood families.
The wizarding world was small to begin with. Vacated positions needed filling.
In sheer population, half-bloods and Muggle-borns would only grow.
And the people he raised up had to stand on his side.
But that was later. Right now, the task came first.
Sheltering them was the simplest, most basic thing Regulus could offer.
Zero cost. Zero effort. A single word. But wanting more required proving more.
He drew a slip of paper from his sleeve, set it on the table, and slid it to the center.
Lina's hand was fast. The instant the paper stopped moving, her fingers were on it, pulling it toward her.
She unfolded it and read.
A few lines.
[Aerodynamics. Jet propulsion. Information transmission. Wave mechanics. Optical principles.]
She didn't recognize a single term. Being able to pronounce them at all was a credit to her upbringing, but she knew these weren't magical vocabulary.
Her brow creased, then smoothed almost immediately.
She looked up, stealing a brief glance toward Regulus. Her eyes touched his face and pulled away. She passed the slip to Samuel.
He took it, read it with his head down, and when he finished, pushed it back across to Regulus without looking up.
Neither spoke. Something shifted behind their expressions, not quite surprise, not quite confusion, but both held under control.
Regulus tapped the table with his index finger.
The paper began to change color from its edges. Yellowing, curling, turning to ash. The ash dissolved into powder so fine it sank into the wood grain of the table and vanished, leaving nothing behind.
The whole thing took a blink.
Lina's eyes flashed. Samuel's widened.
Regulus leaned back, expression unchanged. "Any questions?"
Lina spoke first, her tone tentative. "Mr. Black..."
A small shake of his head, barely perceptible. "This is Hogwarts. We're classmates. No 'mister.'"
Something lit up in her eyes again. She pressed her lips together, leaned forward slightly.
A quiet, testing murmur: "Black?"
No reaction. His gaze stayed the same.
Lina shifted into focus. "When do you need us to deliver?"
"No rush. Hold onto whatever you find. Someone will come collect it."
She nodded, a firm "Mm" to seal it.
Regulus turned to Samuel. "You?"
Samuel had kept his head down, but Regulus could feel his magical fluctuations. More intense than Lina's.
He was excited. His face wouldn't show it. Brow furrowed, lips pressed, fingers curled against his knees. The picture of anxious deliberation.
Regulus didn't interrupt. He watched.
Samuel probably knew he was overdoing the act. He lifted his gaze, expression settling into something that looked resolute.
"Is that everything? Do you need more?"
Regulus shook his head. "That's enough. I'll let you know if anything comes up."
Samuel nodded. "Understood."
Nothing more.
Regulus waited a beat. Neither of them spoke again.
"That's all. Go."
They stood.
"Starting today," Regulus's voice came from behind them, the tone flat, like he was mentioning something beneath notice, "you don't need to hide when you eat in Slytherin."
Lina's step faltered. She didn't turn around, but her shoulders rose an inch, then settled, as though she was drawing a deep breath.
Samuel paused too. He turned, looked at Regulus. Whatever was in his eyes, gratitude or something else, it was hard to name. Then he turned back and walked out with Lina.
Regulus watched their silhouettes disappear behind the bookshelves.
That pause at the end, the silence before he dismissed them, had been a test. He'd wanted to see if they'd ask why.
They hadn't.
Good.
People who don't ask why are the useful ones.
Next was whether they'd overstep, improvise, or botch the job.
If they handled it well, they could keep being used. If not, that was a different conversation.
He hadn't told them to keep it secret. Hadn't given additional instructions. Let them figure it out.
Whether they had a sense of proportion was theirs to demonstrate.
Even if they fumbled and word got out, it didn't matter much.
Muggle books. He wasn't worried about that drawing trouble.
And the task itself was genuinely simple. Find a few books. A little effort and it was done.
Lina's family would be easy. A minor family, no Pure-blood title, but they'd have the awareness. Her people would understand.
Samuel's family was more ordinary. One everyday wizard at home. Some things you could explain and they still wouldn't grasp.
But Samuel had spent over a year in Slytherin by now. He should know how things worked. Even if his family didn't understand, understanding it himself was enough.
Besides, outside of school, Regulus wasn't entirely without reach. Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley were, after all, very close to each other.
He pulled his gaze back from the door and turned to the window.
Afternoon sunlight shattered across the Black Lake. The Forbidden Forest was a dark, heavy green. The Whomping Willow's branches hung slack, twitching now and then, like it was dozing.
Young wizards ran across the lawn. Someone chased a model Golden Snitch. Others tossed Exploding Snap cards, laughing at every detonation.
Far off, by the edge of the lake, two small figures walked.
Red hair... Lily. Beside her, pale gold. Marcia Fawley.
Arms linked, pace slow, drifting slower still as they talked. Marcia gave Lily a shove. Lily dodged, then leaned back in.
The warmth of youth carried even across this distance.
The corner of Regulus's mouth curved.
He raised his hand, fingertip aimed at the lowest branch of the old oak outside the window.
The leaf at its very tip twitched.
The leaf became a palm-sized square of parchment, edges clean, surface smooth, words blooming across its center.
Then the parchment kept changing. Both sides folded upward, the middle swelling outward, a pointed head extending from the front, a fan-shaped tail spreading from the back.
A bird. Pale grey, a touch bigger than a sparrow. Wings fluttered once and it launched from the branch, circling twice in the air.
It called out, a bright, clear chirp, then banked toward the lake.
Lily was crouching to pick up a stone, about to skim it across the water. Marcia nudged her to hurry.
A bird landed on the rock in front of Lily and cocked its head at her.
She blinked. The bird chirped again.
She held out her hand. The bird hopped onto it, tiny claws curling around her index finger.
Then the feathers drew inward. Wings folded. The head retracted. The body stretched flat, thinning, settling into a sheet of parchment resting in her palm.
She looked down. Words on the surface. She recognized the handwriting instantly. Regulus.
"After dinner. Eight o'clock. The abandoned classroom at the end of the fourth-floor corridor."
She stared at the line for two seconds, then whipped around toward the Library.
Too far. The window too small. She couldn't make out the person inside, but she knew he was there.
She waved hard, jumped once, jumped again.
Marcia grabbed her shoulder and shook. Lily ignored her. Kept waving.
Each jump sent her hair flying over her shoulder, each landing sent it swinging back.
Behind the window, Regulus watched the bouncing figure and smiled.