Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Regulus walked slowly up the spiral staircase, heading towards the Owl's Hut.

The matter has escalated, and the internal part of the matter ends here.

But outside of school, this is just the beginning.

He escalated the conflict to the family level, so it can no longer be resolved solely within the school.

The Black family needs to make a statement, to let the Belmont family, and all the families watching, know that line cannot be crossed.

Regulus wanted to write a letter to his father.

The content was simple: it explained the situation that evening, and how Arnold Belmont had publicly and condescendingly pressured him to make a statement, revealing a lack of respect for the Black family.

As Black's heir, he responded appropriately, suggesting that the family put pressure on the Belmonts to make them understand their place.

It doesn't need to be written in too much detail; Orion can understand it.

Such disrespectful incidents can be considered a big deal or a small deal within the pureblood community.

If the Blake family lets this go easily, someone else will dare to do something even more outrageous next time.

If dealt with severely, it will establish authority and send a signal to other families that the Black family is still the Black family, and they should not be messed with.

Regulus wrote the letter calmly and restrainedly, stating only the facts without adding any emotion.

Finally, I'd like to add that I believe this is an opportunity to clarify boundaries.

After he finished writing, he rolled up the parchment, tied it with a thin rope, and went to the owl's hut.

The grey-brown owl in the house recognized him, flapped its wings and landed on his arm. He tied the letter to its leg and stroked its feathers.

"Deliver it to Place Grimmauld."

With a coo, the owl flapped its wings and flew into the night.

......

After Regulus left, the Slytherin common room was quiet for a full three minutes.

No one spoke; all eyes were on Arnold Belmont.

He knelt before the fireplace, his hands tied behind his back, his head tilted back, like a statue of shame.

His eyes were still open, but his gaze was unfocused, and it was unclear where he was looking.

The effects of the tongue-locking and throat-sealing spell were still in effect; he couldn't make a sound, only heavy breathing came out of his nose.

The younger students stood close to the wall, even their breathing was soft.

For the first time, they witnessed firsthand the brutal rules within the pureblood community, where there was no fighting or spell-casting, only the display of something colder.

They crush people by using their status, reputation, and family influence.

The older students started to take action.

Several girls gathered around Narcissa and whispered among themselves.

A sixth-grade girl whispered, "The Black family really will..."

Narcissa shook her head before she could finish speaking: "Don't ask what you shouldn't ask."

The girl shut up, but the eagerness in her eyes was undeniable.

On the boys' side, Lucretius Burke was the center of attention, surrounded by several seventh-graders. Some handed him a new drink, while others sat down next to him.

A seventh-grade boy said in a low voice, "He was really ruthless."

"When it's time to be ruthless, you have to be ruthless." Lucretius took a sip of his drink, his eyes fixed on the fireplace.

"The Belmont family has gotten a bit arrogant these past few years. They thought that by making some money and opening up a few channels in Knockturn Alley, they could be on par with the top families. This time, they've really messed up."

"But wouldn't that be too..." another boy hesitated, "After all, we're at school, what about the professors..."

"Professor?" Lucretius chuckled. "Professor Slughorn is the Head of Slytherin and, more importantly, the head of the Slughorn family. Would he not know the rules?"

The people around exchanged glances, and they all understood.

Slytherin has its own rules, and Slytherin's rules are the same as those of pure-blood families.

Professors will manage student fights and violations of school rules, but they will not interfere in the power struggles between pure-blood families.

That's a game on a different level; the professor's intervention would only make things worse.

The younger students surrounded Avery, Alex, and Hermes.

"Is Regulus always like this?" A second-grade boy asked, his eyes lighting up.

Avery puffed out his chest and said in a deliberately casual tone, "What's so special about this? Last time we were—"

He was halfway through his sentence when Hermes glared at him, so he immediately changed his mind: "Just remember, don't mess with him."

Alex didn't participate in the conversation, but there was a sense of pride in his eyes.

Hermes looked at the person kneeling before the fireplace, his mind wandering to other thoughts.

If it were him in that situation, all he could think of was using dark magic to knock the other person down until they couldn't speak.

But Regulus used a different method, one that was smarter, more thorough, and without any trouble afterwards.

Strength is important, but how you use that strength is even more important.

This is what Hermes learned tonight.

......

Regulus left the Owl Hut and went straight to the Room of Requirement without returning to the common room.

He knew tonight wouldn't be peaceful; his actions would definitely attract attention from many quarters.

He said not to inform the professor, but the professor would find out sooner or later. Some student would let it slip, or the house-elf would report it, or the portrait would see it.

Rather than dealing with all sorts of probing and gossip in the lounge, it's better to find some peace and quiet.

Inside the house, where every request was granted, he first reflected on the events of the evening.

There is a reason for doing this.

It wasn't him who started it; Arnold Belmont himself jumped out, trying to coerce him and climb over him to get ahead.

He simply used the opportunity to his advantage, turning the knife the other party offered him around and stabbing it back.

good results.

He told everyone that Blake was Blake.

Tell those with ulterior motives not to mess with me.

Kill one chicken to warn a whole bunch of monkeys.

It might even affect the garbage disposal process.

After tonight, those young wizards who were swept up in the frenzy might think twice before hearing similar calls to arms again.

If I listen to others and rush to the front, will it seem like I'm losing my dignity?

Even if the cleanup operation was indeed instructed by the Death Eaters' higher-ups, or even by Voldemort himself, Regulus was not afraid.

In this matter, he was one of those who were dragged into it.

He simply did what Blake had to do: uphold the family's dignity. The argument was entirely on his side.

A wise person can understand his intentions, but cannot express them, because he is in the right.

His actions even receive tacit approval and support from the other twenty-eight sacred races. What Regulus is protecting is the dignity and status of the entire top pure-blood family.

If the Black family is treated like this by a Belmont today and doesn't retaliate, tomorrow it might be the Parkinson family, the Nott family, or the Malfoy family's turn.

This is a defensive line, and Regulus held it; it's good for everyone.

The rest is up to fate to see how things develop.

This incident may just be the beginning, causing a small ripple on campus, but it could also trigger a larger chain reaction.

Regardless, Regulus will now be in the public eye more often, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

In the purebred bloodline community, reputation requires both skill and the accumulation of events.

After tonight, the name Regulus Black will carry new weight.

He practiced Space Teleportation for two hours in the Room of Requirement, Fiendfire for an hour, and also tried Spell Teleportation a few times.

A disarming spell passed through the spatial passage and landed on the wooden dummy, retaining 80% of its power.

At four in the morning, he left the Room of Requirement and returned to the Slytherin common room.

When the stone door slid open, the fireplace was still burning, and Arnold Belmont was still kneeling there, in the same position.

His face was deathly pale, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his body was trembling slightly, but the magic was still in effect, and he couldn't move.

Regulus didn't look at Arnold again; he walked straight to the dormitory corridor and pushed open the door.

Avery was already asleep, but in a very unrestrained sleeping position, with one leg dangling off the edge of the bed.

Alex huddled under the covers, with only the top of his head showing.

Hermes' bed curtains were drawn, and there was no movement inside.

Regulus took off his outer robe and lay down.

The light from the Black Lake outside the window shines through the glass, casting shimmering ripples on the ceiling.

Regulus fell asleep in the ripples.

At 6:30 a.m., Avery was the first to jump out of bed.

His eyes lit up, his mouth stretched to his ears, and he rushed to Regulus's bedside, wanting to say something, but seeing that Regulus's eyes were still closed, he held back and paced around the room.

Alex woke up too, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

Hermes drew back the bed curtains, his face more gloomy than usual; he hadn't slept well, and his eyes were dark-rimmed.

Regulus opened his eyes.

"You're awake!" Avery immediately leaned closer: "Do you know what they said after you left last night?"

The younger students surrounded me and asked, "Is Regulus always like this?"

I said, "What's this? That time you—"

He almost let slip again, coughing as he said, "Anyway, they look at you like you're Merlin now."

He mimicked Regulus's tone: "Has the Cuthbert family fallen so low that we need you to teach us how to behave?"

Avery danced with joy, and Alex laughed along, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Regulus, his admiration written all over his face.

Hermes was still bewildered.

Regulus ignored Avery's excitement. He got up, dressed, and made the bed, his movements as methodical as ever.

At seven o'clock, the four of them left the dormitory.