Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Even in a culinary desert, there are oases; dinner at Hogwarts was satisfying.

Lucrezius Burke, the seventh-year prefect of Slytherin, had already stood up and was tapping his goblet lightly with a silver spoon.

"Slytherin freshmen, come with me."

Regulus and the other eleven freshmen left the long table and followed him through the side door of the auditorium, down the long spiral stone steps.

The further down you go, the cooler the air becomes, the walls turn into smooth black marble, and the torches burn with eerie emerald green flames.

Finally, they stopped in front of a bare stone wall with only a roughly carved stone snake on it.

The prefect turned to face the new students.

"I am Lucretius Burke, the prefect of the seventh year." His gaze swept over every face, lingering a little longer on Regulus.

"Welcome to Slytherin. Before you enter, please note a few things."

"First, Slytherin values ​​lineage, ambition, and intelligence; none of the three can be lacking."

"Secondly, loyalty is paramount here—loyalty to your own people. Your roommates and classmates can be your most reliable allies or your most dangerous enemies in the future."

"Third, Slytherin does not welcome weakness; crying and tattling will only make you a laughingstock."

His gaze swept over Regulus once again.

"Finally, remember that the Black family's mishap last year brought shame upon Slytherin. Hopefully, someone can redeem that reputation this year."

These words were almost a tacit instruction, and several freshmen secretly glanced at Regulus.

Regulus remained calm and silent; he knew there would definitely be something going on tonight.

The prefect turned to the stone wall and said clearly, "Glory."

The stone snake's eyes glowed red, and the wall slid open silently.

Slytherin common room.

The room is rectangular, with silver-green curtains hanging from the ceiling, and one wall is completely transparent magic glass, offering a view of the bottom of the Black Lake.

A giant squid swam slowly by, glowing jellyfish floated like ghosts, and the fireplace flames were emerald green, burning silently.

The furniture was made of dark wood and silver trim, covered in dark green velvet, and the walls were adorned with portraits of famous Slytherins from different eras, who gazed at the newborn with stern eyes.

There were already quite a few upperclassmen in the room. When the freshmen walked in, all eyes turned to them, filled with curiosity, indifference, and mockery.

Lucretius walked to the fireplace: "Free time. The first-year dormitory assignment list is on that wall over there."

The new students rushed toward the parchment on the wall, but Regulus was in no hurry; he stood still and looked around the lounge.

Then he heard someone saying his name, not calling him, but talking about him.

The voice came from the sofa area on the right, where several fifth-grade boys were sitting. The one speaking was a black-haired boy with a hooked nose, who had a mocking smile on his face.

"Another Blake, why don't we go to the Lion's Den together?"

The people around him laughed together, but it wasn't a friendly laugh.

The lounge fell silent. The upperclassmen stopped talking, and the underclassmen held their breath. No one stopped them; everyone was waiting to see how the newcomer, Blake, would react.

Regulus slowly turned to face the person who had spoken.

"Are you talking about me?" he asked calmly, his tone low.

The hook-nosed man raised an eyebrow: "If you're Regulus Black, then I'm talking about you."

"Yes, that's me. So, what do you need?" Regulus knew someone would step forward, and he was hoping for it.

The boy stood up; he was a head taller than Regulus, and the cuffs of his robe were embroidered with exquisite silver silver—the coat of arms of the Travers family.

"I'm just curious," he slowly approached, "are all the Black family members this opinionated this generation? Your brother chose Gryffindor, what about you?"

How long do you plan to stay in Slytherin? A semester? Or until you find more interesting friends?

The henchmen laughed again and gradually surrounded Regulus.

Regulus stared at him with his grey eyes, his expression unwavering.

"Mr. Travers," he called out the man's last name, "if I remember correctly, the Travers family intermarried with Muggle merchants in the eighteenth century to save their family business from bankruptcy."

That matter is described in detail in Chapter 7, Section 3 of "The Secret History of Pureblood Families." Do you need me to remind you of the specific paragraph?

Your pride is tainted.

The boy's face instantly turned red.

The whispers around them grew louder, and several older students exchanged glances.

"What nonsense are you talking about!" His voice suddenly rose.

"The Secret History of the Purebloods, by Broderick Bode, quotes contemporary business contracts and marriage records." Regulus's voice remained calm: "Do I need to memorize it?"

The boy opened his mouth but no sound came out; his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Regulus looked at him and continued, "Of course, that's in the past. What matters is the present. You just mentioned 'having one's own opinions.'"

I don't think having your own opinions is a flaw; in fact, blindly following others is what's truly pathetic.

His gaze swept across the entire lounge, and his henchmen quickly averted their eyes.

"Slytherin values ​​wisdom, which means independent thinking and knowing what is worth pursuing and what is not worth mentioning."

My brother chose his path, and I chose mine. That's what it means to have your own opinions. And you—"

Regulus looked at the boy, his gaze calm yet containing a hidden pressure.

"—You chose to prove your existence with such a low-level provocation on the very first night of freshman orientation. Is this your idea?"

All eyes shifted from Regulus to Travers.

The boy's face went from red to white to green, and his hand suddenly reached into the inner pocket of his robe, about to pull out his wand.

But Regulus was faster; his wand slid into his hand in an instant, and he tapped it lightly in the air.

The air in front of the boy suddenly distorted, an invisible barrier instantly forming. The moment he drew his wand, it struck a glass wall with a soft "ding," then flew from his hand, spinning towards the ceiling—

Then it was frozen in mid-air, motionless.

Precise interception.

Regulus flicked his wrist, and the other's wand began to descend slowly, as if supported by an invisible hand, landing steadily and evenly at the boy's feet, tip pointing downwards, gently resting on the carpet.

The entire process was quiet and elegant, without any anger.

"If you really want to compete," Regulus put away his wand, "I suggest you at least learn how to grip a wand properly first."

Just as some of the younger students were about to exclaim in surprise, Regulus stepped forward, and his classmates exchanged glances and silently made way for him.

Just as an older girl was about to speak, another girl stopped her and shook her head at her.

"Now," only Regulus's voice echoed in the lounge, "pick it up."

His voice was still not loud, but everyone could hear it clearly.

Someone looked at Lucretius, but he made no move.

Travers' face was burning red, his hair was standing on end, his body was trembling, and his eyes looked like he wanted to devour someone.

Regulus's gaze was calm, while the others looked puzzled.

A first-year student can make a fifth-year student unable to even draw their wand; the implications of this are clear to everyone.

Powerful, not to be trifled with.

bad.

This behavior is extremely insulting.

In an instant, everyone's impression of Regulus changed from "a traitor in the family" to this.

Regulus didn't need a wand to do this much, but he had promised Orion not to behave strangely at school.

Then use the magic wand.

Travers' chest heaved violently. Just when some thought he would choose to resist, he suddenly bent down, picked up his wand, lowered his head, rushed through the crowd, and disappeared around the corner of the dormitory entrance.

The henchmen also disappeared one after another, without uttering a single harsh word.

Regulus turned and walked toward the dormitory assignment list on the wall, and the freshmen made way for him.

This wasn't even a confrontation; it was just bullying a child, which Regulus found rather uninteresting.

This person was not only weak but also stupid. He knew it was a deliberate arrangement, but he didn't care; he welcomed it.

The lounge remained quiet until he walked to the wall, at which point whispers resumed, mostly in low gasps of shock.

Several older students exchanged glances.

A seventh-grade girl with long, dark brown hair, wearing a Rozier family brooch, whispered to her friend, "He's funny."

Another boy from the Nott family nodded, his gaze lingering on Regulus for a long time.

An arrogant older boy asked, "Did you understand?"

Another elegant-looking girl nodded silently.

The younger students were completely stunned. A first-year girl grabbed her classmate's arm, her voice trembling with excitement: "He just... that was a silent spell? A first-year student?"

The round-faced boy next to him swallowed hard, then hesitated slightly, "Is...is that right?"

Regulus ignored it and found his name on the list.

First-year dormitory A:

Regulus Black,

Avery Cuthbert,

Hermes Murseb,

Alex Rozier.