A Broken Inheritance

Chapter 2: Moves and Countermoves

She turned on her heel and left the room, her heart hammering against her ribs as she ascended the stairs. In the sanctuary of her bedroom, she allowed herself a single shaky breath before her mask fell back into place. As Anastasia made her way to her room, her face still stinging from the slap, she felt a strange sense of peace amidst the storm she knew was still to come.

Anastasia shut her bedroom door quietly behind her, the faint click of the latch echoing in the stillness. The silencing spell that had been etched into the room's perimeter years ago by Orion ensured that no sound would escape—an unspoken necessity for a household filled with secrets. She pressed her back against the door, closing her eyes briefly. The heat of Walburga's slap still burned on her cheek, but she refused to dwell on it. Pain, after all, was fleeting.

The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a single candle on her desk. Its green flame flickered faintly, casting long shadows that danced on the dark wallpaper adorned with serpents and runes. She stepped toward the mirror above her vanity, examining the faint red imprint on her pale skin. A sigh escaped her as she picked up her wand and muttered a healing spell. The mark faded instantly, but her reflection still stared back, cold and composed, her Slytherin mask firmly in place.

There was a soft knock at the door. Three quiet raps, hesitant but deliberate. She opened it without hesitation, stepping aside as Regulus slipped inside, his dark eyes darting around the room nervously. Despite being only a year younger, he looked far smaller, his slight frame hunched with tension.

"Is it safe to talk?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Yes," she replied simply, her voice calm. "There's a silencing spell on the room. Always has been."

He exhaled shakily, running a hand through his dark hair as he perched on the edge of her bed. "Is he...?"

"Sirius is safe," Anastasia cut in, sparing him the need to finish. "He's gone. Out of their reach now."

Regulus nodded, his shoulders sagging with relief, though his expression remained troubled. He glanced at her, his voice trembling slightly. "They'll punish you for this. No matter what you say, they'll—"

"I know," Anastasia interrupted again, her tone clipped but not unkind. She leaned against her desk, crossing her arms. "But that's not your concern."

"How can it not be?" he snapped, his voice rising despite himself. He lowered it again, glancing at the door as though Walburga might appear at any moment. "You don't understand. If they—if they turn on you completely, I'll be left here alone. All of it, the expectations, the scrutiny... it'll all fall on me."

Her gaze softened briefly before hardening again. She stepped closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Snap out of it, Regulus. You're the heir apparent now. They've already written Sirius off. That means you cannot afford to show fear. Not to them, not to anyone."

"I'm not like you, Ana," he muttered, his voice cracking. "I'm not strong like you. I can't just—"

"You don't have to be like me," she interrupted, her grip on his shoulder tightening. "But you have to be smart. If you let them see your fear, they'll use it to manipulate you. Do you understand me?"

He nodded reluctantly, but the fear in his eyes remained. "What about earlier?" he whispered. "When Mother tried to curse you. I couldn't just—"

"You shouldn't have done that," Anastasia said sharply, cutting him off. "What you did, stepping in like that, was reckless."

"I couldn't just let her—" Regulus began, but she silenced him with a look.

"If they try to punish me in front of you again, you will let it happen," she said firmly, her voice low but fierce. "Do you hear me? Don't make it worse for yourself. Don't give them any reason to turn on you too."