"The doorbell rang and Kreacher opened the door to Mrs. Rosier and her son Evans. They were ushered into the guest room and a minute Mrs. Black came in with her arms wide open.
"Sister!" she cried as she embraced her. Lucretia Rosier was Wallburga's half-sister but they rarely met since she married her husband Elred Rosier and moved to France.
"It's been too long Lucy" said Wallburga, before hugging her nephew Evans. They sat down and Kreacher poured some tea for them.
"So is it true then Lucy? Are you really moving back to England?" asked Wallburga.
"Yes, it seems I have no choice" said Lucretia, her voice low and silky. "I really cannot send Evans to Beauxbaton, the standards there have become so low, and Durmstrang is too far away. Hogwarts is the only reasonable place to send my dearest Evans."
Evans was ten years old, the same age as Regulus, and the only child of the Rosiers. He had auburn hair with deep green eyes and a devilish look on his face. His father was too disinterested in him and his mother too weak willed to tell him to do anything, and thus at the age of ten he had the carelessness of a devil.
"He will be joining Regulus then in Hogwarts" said Wallburga.
"Not if he is also sorted in Gryffindor" said Lucretia, causing a strained silence.
Wallburga smiled thinly then asked, "Are you staying around London then?"
"Yes, at an apartment at Diagon Alley. After Paris, I can only stay in fashionable neighborhoods, no country cottages for me" she said with a tinkling laugh.
"Indeed. Well then our sons should get together as they are both the same age."
"Yes. Evans darling, why don't you go up to meet your cousin Regulus?" Lucretia said, fondly smoothing his hair. "It must be years since you both last met."
Evans picked up a cookie and walked out.
He looked interestedly around the house as he walked up the stairs. Dark wooden walls, marbled floors speckled with gold and covered in plush carpets-the Blacks took quality very seriously. Beheaded house elves lined the stairs and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Being brought up in Paris' most fashionable neighborhoods, Evans could tell easily new money from old money, and the Blacks were old money. And they were rolling in it. Interesting, thought Evans, his Black relatives were easily one of the wealthier families in England and yet they choose to live in this squalid place in London. Nothing like the Malfoys whose recently built large manor was the size of a small town.
"Who are you?"
He turned and saw a boy who must be Regulus looking at him in polite silence. The first thought Evans had about Regulus was-reserved. Very reserved. He held out his hand and said "Rosier. Evans Rosier. We're cousins"
"Yes, I know we're cousins" said Regulus, shaking his hand.
"I bet you do." Said Evans. "You must have your whole family tree memorized."
"So what if I do?" said Regulus, feeling slightly offended, but Evans just smiled lazily. "Yeah, you blacks just love yourselves, don't you? I bet you know the biography of every one of your ancestors"
"You're a Black as well" said Regulus, feeling his face heating up. Well, maybe he did know the biographies of the prominent Blacks but he was made to do so by his father and there was nothing wrong with that.
"Nah, I'm a Rosier. Which means I'm a compulsive liar and can be really cheap about things" said Evans, now moving past Regulus and eyeing the books disinterestedly.
Regulus eyed him curiously, feeling interested in this new cousin of his.
"Is this 'chapeaux létales'? said Evans excitedly, picking up one book from the shelf.
"Yes" said Regulus smiling shyly. "It's pretty interesting. It was written by my great uncle Aplhard"
"Oh geez, there you go again about your family" said Evans laughing but Regulus didn't feel slighted this time and joined him at the table, where they spent the next two hours discussing wildly about dangerous hats and their wizards.