𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

The Black Heir Came Back

In the dark, winding corridors of Hogwarts during the Marauders era, an unspoken rivalry brewed within the walls of Slytherin House.

Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, and Rodolphus Lestrange had a vendetta against a certain younger student—a Black, of all people.

Regulus Arcturus Black was the younger brother of the notorious Sirius Black, and the Black Heir.

He was not loyal to the Dark Lords cause, but to his friends.

It wasn’t personal at first.

But no matter how many times they tried to rid themselves of him, Regulus always seemed to come back.

Like a persistent curse.

"The Black Heir came back."

---

The three conspirators—Lucius, Snape, and Rodolphus—stood in the shadows, plotting.

"He's a nuisance," hissed Lucius, his pale face twisting in disgust as he flicked his long, silver hair over his shoulder.

"The Dark Lord will have no need for someone so weak."

"I think it's personal," Rodolphus added, his voice thick with derision.

"The Blacks only Heir? I can't stand the sight of him. His family’s name is more trouble than it’s worth."

Severus Snape, more contemplative, narrowed his dark eyes.

"He has potential, but he’s soft. Loyal to the wrong people. He won’t last long."

Lucius sneered.

"Then we make sure of it."

Their first attempt was subtle.

Severus, ever the tactician, suggested a bit of poison in Regulus’ evening pumpkin juice.

Not enough to kill immediately, but enough to make it look like a slow decline.

Later that evening, Regulus sat at the Slytherin table, eyes gleaming with excitement over his upcoming Quidditch match.

He took a sip from his goblet, completely unaware of the dark magic in play.

But the next day, Regulus was still there—healthier than ever.

Lucius's lip curled in annoyance.

"I thought you were good at potions, Snape."

"The Black Heir came back the very next day, oh the pureblood came back, we thought he was a goner, but the pureblood came back, he just wouldn’t stay away."

Severus’ hand tightened on his wand.

"Next time, we’ll do it ourselves."

---

Their second attempt was more direct. Rodolphus led the charge, cornering Regulus in the dungeons late at night.

The three older Slytherins blocked his escape, their wands drawn.

"You're not cut out for this, Regulus," Lucius said coldly, wand pointed directly at his chest.

"Run home to your mother before you find yourself hexed beyond recognition."

Regulus didn’t flinch.

He wasn’t a Marauder, but he wasn’t a coward either.

He raised his chin defiantly.

"I’m not going anywhere, Malfoy."

Snape rolled his eyes and flicked his wand.

"Expelliarmus!"

Regulus’ wand flew out of his hand, clattering on the floor.

Lucius stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"We’ll see about that."

Rodolphus was eager for violence, casting a spell that sent Regulus crashing against the stone wall.

For a moment, the trio thought they’d won. Regulus crumpled, unconscious and bleeding.

But two days later, there he was, back in the Great Hall, alive and well, like nothing had happened.

Snape slammed his fist against the table.

"How does he keep coming back?"

"The Black Heir came back, couldn’t keep him away. He was hanging out in the Slytherin dorms again today."

---

By their third attempt, their frustration had reached a boiling point.

Lucius had devised a far darker plan: luring Regulus into the Forbidden Forest under the pretense of a Death Eater initiation.

"He won’t survive the night," Lucius promised Snape and Rodolphus as they waited in the shadow of a large oak tree.

The dark creatures that roamed the forest would do the dirty work for them.

Regulus arrived, cautious but intrigued by the promise of power.

He wandered deeper into the woods, and just when the trio thought they had succeeded—when they heard the sounds of wolves howling and the rustle of movement—Regulus disappeared from view.

The next morning, when they returned to the castle, they saw him again.

Rodolphus looked like he was ready to tear his hair out.

"Merlin, how is he still alive?"

Lucius was seething.

"It’s impossible."

Snape, dark and brooding, glared at the younger Black from across the hall.

"He must be cursed with the luck of the damned."

"You know the Black Heir came back the very next day, oh the Black Heir came back, we thought he was a goner but the Black Heir came back, he just wouldn’t stay away."

---

Finally, after months of failed attempts and frustration, Lucius confronted Regulus directly in the common room one evening.

The firelight flickered off their faces, casting shadows of their conflict.

"Why don’t you just give up, Black?" Lucius spat.

"You should have stayed down the first time. You’re wasting your life."

Regulus, who had grown harder with each near-death encounter, looked at him with cold, calculating eyes.

"You’re scared, Malfoy. You’re scared of anyone who doesn’t bend to your will."

Snape, standing in the corner, growled, "This is a warning, Regulus. Next time, we won’t leave it to chance."

But Regulus didn’t waver.

"You’ve tried. Over and over again. Yet here I am."

"The Black Heir came back. The very next day. Oh, the Black Heir came back, we thought he was a goner. But the Black Heir came back, he just wouldn’t stay away."

Lucius’ jaw clenched.

"One day, your luck will run out."

Regulus, with a dark smile, turned and walked away, leaving the trio in furious silence.

"I wouldn’t count on it," he called over his shoulder, disappearing into the shadows like the wraith they could never quite defeat.