Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Sirius Black stood on the left, wand in hand, his expression somewhat bewildered.

He was also summoned here around this time last year, having just returned home for the holidays, and it was also to test his magical progress, but this time Orion personally took charge.

As a result, he was beaten so badly that he was unable to fight back and lay on the ground for a long time without being able to get up. In the end, his father left him alone and went to work in the study next door.

But this year is different; Orion has asked him to play against Regulus.

Sirius Black couldn't quite grasp the concept; he was fighting Regulus?

He knew what Regulus did at Hogwarts: he taught fifth-year students in his first year and seventh-year students in the next semester, and he was treated like a treasure by the professors in class, always receiving special tutoring.

But those are all just hearsay.

He had never seen Regulus actually make a move, except for the time on the school express train last year, but that time was too fast; Jaime's spell was frozen and disintegrated, and it was over before he could even see the process clearly.

Later, James said he was going to cause trouble for Regulus, but when he returned, his face was so cold it was like ice crystals. Remus did recount what happened, but it sounded like he was just an ordinary junior wizard, and it wasn't very detailed.

A thought flashed through his mind: Regulus should be able to beat me now, right?

This thought made him resentful. He acknowledged Regulus's talent and admitted that his younger brother had been different since childhood.

He could cast magic at the age of three and reverse polymorph at the age of five, surpassing many younger wizards before even entering school.

He also knew how much Regulus had sacrificed for power, spending hours sitting in the library and practicing late into the night in the attic. If he wanted to see him at school, he could only wait for him at the library.

But Sirius Black is also Black, and even if he dislikes or even loathes the surname, it's undeniable that no one with that surname is less gifted.

He was a year and a half older than Regulus and had attended school for an extra year. He was also a figure who could make a name for himself at Hogwarts.

Who doesn't know the Marauders at Hogwarts?

He never lost a fight, whether it was nighttime outings, pranks, or brawling with Slytherins.

What's wrong with him?

He wanted to try, to see just how big the gap was between him and Regulus, and to see what the thing Regulus was desperately chasing really looked like.

Sirius Black snapped out of his thoughts and uttered a single word: "Okay."

He looked at Regulus, but Regulus didn't look at him. His gaze was fixed on Orion's face, his eyes seeming to ask, "Are you serious?"

Orion met his gaze and nodded very slightly.

Regulus understood; his father meant to give him a beating.

Let Sirius understand the importance of strength, make him realize that he should become stronger, even if it's just through the most primal drive of wanting to fight back when he's hurt.

Regulus felt this was necessary.

Sirius Black is gifted; he can master Animagus, though it was for his friend, so he could be with Lupin the werewolf on the night of the full moon.

However, Animagus is an advanced application of Transfiguration, requiring extremely strong magical control, patience, willpower, and luck.

There were only seven registered Animagus in the British wizarding world throughout the 20th century, and Sirius Black's ability to become one proves that he was quite talented.

The problem lies in the driving force.

Sirius never had a subjective desire to become powerful.

He learned magic for fun, for pranks, and for adventures with his friends.

He cultivated Animagus for friendship, not for power itself.

This drive allows him to master specific skills, but it doesn't propel him to systematically and continuously improve his overall strength.

Regulus was different; he had already planned his path, a path that required power as its foundation and strength as its guarantee.

He must contend with Voldemort's threat, protect his family, survive potential future conflicts, and reach for the stars.

Each of these goals requires him to become stronger, even stronger.

He hoped to inspire Sirius's subjective pursuit of magic, without necessarily having any grand ambitions.

Even if it's just to protect friends, to be able to fight back when danger comes, or to avoid becoming a burden to others, any of these reasons are acceptable.

But Sirius doesn't see that now; he only sees friendship and adventure, and he can't see the undercurrents hidden beneath the calm surface.

In the original story, Sirius Black eventually dies in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic.

Sirius Black's death was directly caused by an accident due to negligence in battle, but at a deeper level it was the inevitable result of him deliberately stepping into danger to protect Harry.

It cannot be said that their deaths were entirely worthless, but they certainly weren't of much value either.

His death was not a voluntary sacrifice, but a tragic accident.

If he had stronger skills, better tactical awareness, and more cautious judgment, the outcome might have been different.

Regulus did not want to see that outcome.

Even if Sirius chooses to stand against his family and fight for his beliefs and friendship, he still hopes that Sirius will have enough strength to protect himself and survive.

So give him a beating, let him taste the saltiness of power, and see if it can ignite something.

Regulus looked at Sirius without saying a word, then strode to a corner of the training room, stopped ten feet from the wall, and turned around.

Sirius moved to the opposite corner.

The two bowed, raised their wands to their chests, and slightly bent over.

Orion's voice came from the side: "Begin."

Orion retreated to the wall, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

He looked at his two sons in the arena, with a tiny sliver of hope in his heart.

What if?

What if Sirius, like Regulus, has a hidden talent that he just doesn't usually show?

He only mentioned this idea to Regulus once in private, and never brought it up again.

Asking him again would make him seem unrealistic and not mature enough.

But at this moment, looking at Sirius, he couldn't help but wonder, what if?

On the field, Regulus neither raised his wand nor assumed a fighting stance.

He held his wand in his right hand, which hung at his side, his body relaxed as if he were taking a stroll.

He took a step and walked towards Sirius, not fast, one step, two steps, his steps were very light, and he didn't even make a sound when he landed.

Sirius assumed the standard wizard duel stance, left leg forward, right leg back, lowering his center of gravity, and raising his wand to shoulder level, the tip pointing at Regulus.

He could tell that the other party had no intention of attacking first, or even using their wand, and that feeling of being looked down upon fueled his anger.

He collapsed to the ground, completely unconscious!

A red light shot out from the tip of the staff, flying straight toward Regulus's chest.

Regulus neither dodged nor blocked; the red light struck the air an inch in front of him, exploding into a ball of sparks before dissipating.

A very faint silver light flashed across his body, like ripples spreading across water, but the area was very small, appearing only briefly on his chest before disappearing.

Those were the magical ripples from the Constant Ironclad Spell when it was attacked, but because the defense was too strong or the attack too weak, the ripples were so small that they were almost invisible.

Sirius gritted his teeth and continued swinging his staff.

"Grinning widely!"

"Disarm you!"

"Flames are raging!"

"Torn apart!"

"Repel Spell!"

Five spells, each a different color and with a different trajectory, flew toward Regulus from different angles.

Regulus continued walking forward, his steps unchanged.

Red, blue, and orange light shone on him, like raindrops hitting a windowpane, creating tiny sparks before disappearing.

His body surface occasionally flashed with a faint light, but his clothes didn't even wrinkle.

Sirius's face flushed red; he had never seen such a duel before.

The opponent didn't even raise his wand, relying on some kind of protective charm to keep moving forward, as if his attacks were less than annoying flying insects.

Anger, shame, and disbelief—had Regulus really gone this far?

He even suspiciously raised the wand to examine it closely, wondering if it was a fake wand.

Was he switched by Kreacher just so Regulus could act out this scene to humiliate him?

He shook his head, dismissing the absurd thought, and continued casting the spell.

This time, we'll use something even more powerful.

"Thunderous explosion!"

The spell struck Regulus in front of him, exploding into a burst of fire and air. Regulus was at the center of the explosion, yet not a single hair on his head was disturbed.

"Big blast!"

The explosion was even stronger; this time, the air distorted half a meter in front of Regulus, and the shockwave was visible to the naked eye.

But the result was the same; Regulus did not stop and continued walking forward.

"Cutting Spell!"

A silver arc of light streaked through the air, slashing towards Regulus's neck. The arc struck the barrier, producing a sharp scraping sound.

But it was still no use. The spell lasted for half a second before disintegrating into specks of light.

Regulus was now three steps away from Sirius.

He had a clear understanding of Sirius's level; he didn't rule out the possibility of a breakthrough, but his foundation was what it was.

The level of Hogwarts' outstanding second and third-year students is not even top-tier.

Moreover, Sirius only stands still and attacks without even basic movement.

It's outrageous that such talent has been wasted to this extent.

Regulus gave him no more chances. He suddenly quickened his pace, taking two steps to cover the last three meters and standing in front of Sirius.

Sirius's face flushed red with anger and shame, his hand gripping his wand trembled, and he glared fiercely at Regulus.

Regulus met those eyes, the same gray pupils as his own, but now burning with fire, burning with resentment, burning with the question, "How dare you question me like this?"

Regulus's face was expressionless, calm, and indifferent, as if he were examining an object.

"Is that all?" he asked in a flat tone.

Sirius's breath hitched; they were too close, too close for him to raise his wand any further.

He wanted to yell back, to tell Regulus not to look down on people, but the words stuck in his throat, and he couldn't utter a single one.

Regulus had no intention of using magic.

He reached his left hand under Sirius's right arm, placed his palm against Sirius's right rib, and then exerted force.

"Well--"