Dim, cold, and hopeless—such was the atmosphere of Azkaban. For the few Aurors stationed there, it was considered a short-term assignment, typically lasting no longer than a month. Any Auror who had been there once would rather face danger on the front lines than ever return. But orders for rotation could not be avoided.
"Ah…!"
With a shout—whether out of anger or excitement was unclear—Sirius Black threw himself toward the small window in the cell door.
Years of imprisonment had blurred his mind. He stared at Regulus Black with a twisted expression, examining him over and over as if trying to confirm something.
"You're not Regulus. You can't look this young. What does the Ministry want this time, sending someone who looks just like my brother in his youth?"
So, Sirius Black believed this was a plot by the Ministry—to send in a look-alike to extract something from him.
"What do you even have left that's worth taking? Your body? You've been rotting in Azkaban for 11 years. Your family? It's gone. Lady Black, your mother, died five years ago. The family estate? Confiscated—because you were caught as a Death Eater. The family honor? You never once cared about your family's feelings. Compared to them, your friends were always your real family. Oh, and your friends? You, the Secret-Keeper, actually handed off that responsibility and let a filthy rat slip through the cracks—both of them were your… friends."
Regulus Black elegantly listed Sirius's mistakes, brutally ripping open his wounds.
Inside the cell, Sirius howled and pounded the door in a fit of rage and regret.
"If I could get in there, I'd teach you a lesson you'd never forget. I'd break your mangy legs, knock out your mutt teeth, and give you a full tour of every ancient torture device I could find."
Regulus's own heart burned with anger. This brother of his—who, out of guilt, never defended himself and essentially chose to be imprisoned in Azkaban—was just as stupid as his Animagus form: a brainless dog.
"What about your connection to Dumbledore, huh? Why didn't you use it? What about your identity as a member of the Order of the Phoenix? Why didn't you announce it? Fool!"
"How do you know all that?"
After venting, Sirius finally quieted down in exhausted defeat.
"What exactly do you mean? Your membership in the Order of the Phoenix? Your role as Secret-Keeper? Your Animagus form? Or your friend's Animagus form?"
Even though Regulus had cast a soundproofing charm, he still spoke in a lowered voice.
"What if I told you I just guessed?"
Regulus stared at his brother with a mocking smile. Was it even necessary to explain how he knew? And what good would it do?
He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Sirius.
"That's Grandfather's wand. So, you're using it to kill me now? Is this the family's chosen method of execution?"
Sirius recognized the wand Regulus often used, but his thoughts went in a different direction.
"Execute you? Hah! You think I'd sacrifice myself just to take you out? Scourgify!"
The moment Regulus drew his wand, a distant Auror tensed and prepared to act—only to be stopped by Judy Fox. At that moment, Regulus's magic swept through the cell, thoroughly cleansing both the space and Sirius along with it.
"If you want to die, at least die cleanly. Looking like this would disgrace the Black family."
Regulus cast a silent spell inside the cell, then holstered his wand with a look of distaste.
"Mind your appearance. You must always remember—you are a member of a pure-blood family. I'll be sending you back issues of The Daily Prophet to catch you up on everything you've missed. That's 11 years' worth of news. Plenty to read. Stay put until I figure out how to get you out of here."
After leaving Sirius's cell, Regulus entrusted the on-duty Auror with delivering the stack of newspapers he had brought.
He believed that once Sirius read those 11 years of papers, he would realize the truth—that the Order of the Phoenix had already forgotten him, that Dumbledore had never tried to rescue him. Even if Sirius didn't come to that conclusion himself, Regulus would make sure he did.
What a foolish black mutt.
"Why the argument? Still, you don't seem to treat Sirius that badly."
Judy Fox walked alongside Regulus Black toward another cell, curious about his attitude toward his older brother. Though he seemed cold and sarcastic on the surface, his request to deliver newspapers to Sirius clearly showed he still cared.
"Just a fool. If he weren't family, I wouldn't care if he died. I've already seen the dumb mutt—now it's time to visit another."
Inside her cell, the disheveled Bellatrix Lestrange became visibly excited as soon as someone approached.
She looked at Regulus Black like a deranged patient watching a doctor, giggling madly. She let him reach through the bars and caress her face. Perhaps for a witch who had long been drained of happiness by Dementors, this fleeting warmth was something rare. She didn't even notice a few strands of her hair being plucked.
"Take me away from here—whoever you are, take me out of here. I'll do anything for you."
Bellatrix Lestrange resembled a broken, long-imprisoned slave, desperate to escape her current life. For that one wish, her morals and shame had already lost all meaning.
It's no wonder that after Voldemort broke a few Death Eaters out of Azkaban, Bellatrix acted like an infatuated girl—adoring the Dark Lord with both worship and love while completely ignoring her own husband.
"The Black family is on the brink of destruction because of the wrong path it took. We can't afford another mistake. So, can you make one final contribution to the Black family?"
Regulus Black thought that instead of letting his cousin continue down a path of pure evil, it would be better to bring it all to an end now.
As someone who had crossed through time—someone who had gone back to the source from the future—Regulus Black carried not just a system of cheat-like abilities but also the revolutionary ideas born of repeated reincarnation. Just like how he had crafted new protective charms, he had created new spells and magical artifacts through fresh, creative thinking.
Drawing upon his understanding of curse magic, Regulus had come up with a new curse inspired by internet slang: "Get pregnant just by being glared at!" The resulting spell was called the Conception Curse.
"You will not live to see your child's birth!"
Through the food slot in the cell door, Regulus Black gently tapped Bellatrix Lestrange's abdomen with his finger, uttering a cruel curse. A small magical array formed around her navel, etched in fine lines. Over time, the formation would expand and eventually fade—right at the moment of childbirth.
"I've made my final contribution to the family… what happens to me now?"
Bellatrix felt a surge of powerful magic flow through her, and for once, she seemed genuinely shaken and desperate for answers.
"No need for a man. As a woman, you'll be able to conceive and carry a child on your own. But the child will only ever be female. And you… you will definitely die during childbirth."
Regulus Black laid out the curse's effects in a calm and straightforward manner.
After more than a decade of imprisonment, Bellatrix no longer feared death. But the idea of not witnessing her child's birth—that made this curse especially vicious.
"So, my little brother has become such a powerful wizard now! The Black family will surely be restored under your leadership, won't it?"
Bellatrix reached a hand through the bars and gently stroked Regulus's face in return.
"Cruel and ruthless—showing no mercy even to your own blood—but possessing the strength to create a brand new curse like this. I salute you… Patriarch."
Bellatrix Lestrange was deeply satisfied with her younger brother. His decisive actions and mastery of dark magic left no doubt—Regulus Black was a worthy current head of the Black family.
From the depths of her soul, Bellatrix revered this strength.
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