"But nobody actually drinks it," Alex continued, his pace slower now. "Hermes shows up at that exact moment, stops Snape, and takes the person away."

Regulus noticed it. Alex was watching his reaction.

He'd told them to let Costa and Vance take a bit of a hit. Alex had heard that, but knowing him, he'd been turning it over in his head ever since, trying to gauge what "a bit" meant.

The plan he'd designed spared them entirely. Snape grabs one, pretends to force the potion, Hermes arrives on cue. Controlled from start to finish.

Alex was worried the arrangement was too soft, that Regulus would find it insufficient.

Regulus looked at him. Said nothing. After a moment, he nodded. "Good work."

Alex's shoulders dropped, and he let out a breath, obvious enough that he caught himself doing it. A sheepish smile flickered across his face.

"Hermes." Alex turned his head.

Hermes lay on his bed, breathing even, one hand resting on his stomach. No response.

"Hermes."

An eyelid twitched. Both opened. His head rolled toward Alex, gaze settling on his face.

It took about one second for him to assess the situation. Then he sat up, arranged his expression into something attentive, and nodded.

Cuthbert couldn't hold it in. His mouth split wide and he laughed out loud.

Alex bit back a grin, turned away, and pretended he'd seen nothing.

Regulus glanced at Hermes and let it go.

Alex had assigned Hermes the intervention, probably to give him a sense of involvement. It didn't matter who did it. Alex or Cuthbert would've worked the same.

Once Rabastan and Snape got caught forcing Veritaserum on a younger student, they'd be lucky to run. Managing to destroy evidence on the way out would already count as impressive foresight. Nobody was going to stand around trading curses.

The one advantage of sending Hermes was sheer intimidation. He'd plant himself there, practically radiating menace, and Rabastan would probably bolt even faster at the sight of him.

"Now my part." Cuthbert leaned in, voice bright with excitement.

He rubbed his hands together. "Let me walk you through the performance."

He launched into the last few days. Started with his act in the common room, warning Snape off, and built from there: the posture he'd struck, the way he'd dropped his voice, how he'd waved Snape away like shooing a fly.

"You should've seen Snape's face... the presence I had..."

He cleared his throat, pitched his voice low, and did an impression of himself: "Those two belong to Black. Mind your own business."

He finished, then nodded at his own performance with satisfaction. "How was that?"

Alex broke. Laughed out loud.

Regulus watched Cuthbert bask in self-admiration, shook his head, and said nothing.

"And when Snape cornered them," Cuthbert went on, "Costa fired right back. 'Who sent you to ask?' 'You want to know something, come ask yourself.'" He slapped his thigh. "I was watching from the end of the corridor. Nearly applauded."

"Samuel held up too," Alex added. "Told Snape 'you're in the way,' and Snape stepped aside."

Cuthbert nodded. "Those two played it well. If I hadn't known beforehand, I'd have believed they genuinely hated the guy."

Regulus listened, leaning back against the headboard.

The plan itself was solid. Each piece linked to the next, from the performance to the material con to the final trap. Every step accounted for.

Alex had taken the lead on this one.

From coordinating Costa and Vance, to designing the handoff between Snape and Lestrange, to staging Hermes for the finish, his thinking was clear and his pacing steady.

He was soft-hearted, looking out for Costa and Vance, unwilling to let them get hurt for real, so he'd reworked the plan into a controlled version. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

That was fine. What needed arranging got arranged, and what needed protecting got protected. Lestrange walked into a trap, and their own people stayed safe.

Holding people together, thinking carefully, working steadily. Those were Alex's strengths.

Regulus looked at Cuthbert, then at Alex. "You both did well."

Cuthbert grinned.

Alex nodded, something like relief in his expression.

Then Regulus turned to Hermes.

Hermes was propped against the headboard, eyelids drifting shut again. He sensed the gaze, opened them a crack, glanced at Regulus, and started closing them once more.

Regulus looked away. Didn't call him.

His mind had moved to something else.

The buildup and the acting didn't matter. That was all for Rabastan's benefit. Whether the performance was good, what information they'd extracted, none of that carried real consequences even if it came to light.

But the final move was different in kind.

Hermes was a Mulciber.

If he acted on Regulus's behalf against Rabastan, that was a Mulciber moving against a Lestrange.

Among students, it was a second-year roughing up a third-year. Even blown out of proportion, the worst outcome was detention and docked points.

Among families, a Mulciber had struck a Lestrange, and the Mulciber in question followed the Black heir.

Pull that thread and it pointed one direction: Black against Lestrange.

Hermes himself had probably never considered any of this.

His brain cared about two things: magic and fighting.

He thought it didn't matter. But Regulus had to think for him.

Cuthbert was from Avery. Alex belonged to a branch of the Rosier family. Hermes was a Mulciber.

They followed him. Their families had placed these children at his side because they believed in the direction the House of Black was heading, and were willing to walk the same path.

But walking alongside was one thing. Getting dragged into the crossfire was another.

He couldn't let them stumble blindly into a conflict between the Blacks and the Lestranges.

What needed to be said had to be said.

It didn't matter what they thought about it, whether Hermes couldn't care less, whether Cuthbert's instinct was to charge headlong and sort it out later.

He owed them clarity.

Hitting Rabastan was fine. But they needed to understand what that strike meant, which families it touched, what consequences it might invite.

If they knew all of that and still chose to swing, then it counted.

---

Ten o'clock at night. The door of the Room of Requirement closed behind him.

Regulus stepped out of the training space. Hermes was still inside practicing. Cuthbert and Alex had already gone back to the dormitory.

He didn't head toward the dungeons. Instead he turned a corner, climbed a staircase, and made for the upper floors of the castle.

Regulus climbed the last flight of stairs, rounded a corner. A stone carving sat at the end of the corridor.

He stopped before the gargoyle and looked up.

It crouched on its pedestal, wings folded behind its back, mouth shut. Two stone eyes gleamed faintly in the dim light.

Behind it lay the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

---

A/n- sorry for the inconsistent uploads guys :( i've been traveling for the last 2 weeks so i couldn't really upload regularly.

i'm finally back though, so we're back to the usual schedule :)

let's start with a 200 Powahhh Stoneeee goal <3

and if anyone wants to support me, you can join my patreon here: patreon.com/rivyura