Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

In the restaurant at 12 Grimmauld Place, the morning light was cut into long, dark golden strips by the heavy curtains, falling on the long black wooden table.

The air was filled with the aroma of fried eggs and smoked meat.

Orion sat in the main seat, holding the Daily Prophet open in his hand, his gaze sweeping over the brief report on the third page about the Ministry of Magic's new regulations for censoring dark magical items.

Walbuga sat opposite him, meticulously fiddling with the fried eggs on his plate with a silver fork.

"The yolk is too overcooked, Kreacher." Her voice was exceptionally clear in the empty restaurant. "I told you it had to be runny, runny, you understand?"

Sirius Black, standing by the fireplace, smacked his lips loudly.

He was slumped in the high-backed chair, wearing a black Muggle band T-shirt with a picture of a long-haired man yelling into a microphone.

He didn't touch the food on the plate, but instead repeatedly scraped the edge of the porcelain plate with the tip of his fork, making a continuous and sharp scraping sound.

Regulus sat on the other side of the long table, furthest from the fireplace.

The plate in front of him was clean; the fried egg and bacon were gone, and only half a slice of toast remained.

He rested his hands on the edge of the table, sat upright, and stared at the empty plate in front of him.

He was planning his trip to the Cornish herb garden.

Orion said this morning that the local administrators had been notified and were ready to receive guests at any time.

He planned to set off in the afternoon and use Apparition to get directly to the plantation.

Suddenly, the flames in the fireplace shot up.

The flames turned from orange-red to dark green, shooting up to the top of the fireplace, and sparks landed on the carpet, burning several charred spots.

Orion put down the newspaper.

Walbuga looked up, his fork hanging in mid-air.

Sirius stopped scraping the plate.

Regulus's gaze sharpened instantly, his right hand hanging down naturally, ready to grasp the wand at any moment.

A figure stepped out of the flames with swift and decisive movements.

The hem of the black travel cloak was still stained with unburnt green embers, and the heavy heels of his boots kicked up a small cloud of dust on the carpet.

Bellatrix Black.

She hadn't yet taken her husband's surname, knew the address of the old house, and entered through the passageway with the Blake family's fireplace.

However, it was very impolite.

She steadied herself, shook her head, and her long, dark curly hair fell out, with a few strands clinging to her forehead.

His face bore the weariness of a long journey, but his eyes shone with an alarming brightness, a kind of intense, burning excitement.

"Bella!" Walbuga stood up, ignoring the napkin that had fallen to the ground.

She opened her arms wide, her voice rising with surprise: "My child! How could you—"

Bella hugged her first, quickly and with a perfunctory intimacy, then turned to Orion, a smile that barely smacked her lips.

"Uncle."

Orion looked at her, said nothing, and simply nodded very slightly.

His gaze fell on the hem of Bella's cloak, where there was a small dark red stain, like dried blood or the residue of some kind of magic potion.

Sirius snorted and leaned back, the chair legs scraping against the floor with a harsh screech.

He crossed his arms, his face radiating utter sullen displeasure.

Bella didn't look at him. From the moment she appeared, she hadn't given Sirius a second glance, as if he were dirtier than a house-elf.

She walked straight up to Regulus, so close that Regulus could smell her scent—fishy, ​​pungent, and hot.

"Regulus," Bella's voice was a little hoarse, but her tone was high, "my dear cousin."

Regulus looked up, his face showing surprise and politeness.

He didn't stand up, but simply adjusted his posture slightly, lifting his back off the chair to show that he was listening attentively.

"Cousin," he said, his voice tinged with barely perceptible warmth, "I didn't expect you to come. Have you had breakfast? We need to get Kreacher—"

"No need," Bella interrupted him, her smile turning eerie, the corners of her mouth curving upwards so wide that the muscles around her eyes twitched slightly. "I didn't come here to eat."

She reached her hand inside the cloak, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she were savoring some kind of ritual.

The restaurant quieted down, with only the occasional crackling of the fireplace flames.

Orion put his hands under the table.

Bella pulled out a box, the material of which at first glance looked like bone.

It is nearly rectangular in shape, about the size of an adult man's palm, with natural textured surfaces and has been finely carved.

The surface is covered with runes that do not belong to any of Regulus's known systems. The rune marks are filled with a dark gold substance that gleams with a golden light, but the texture is distorted and ferocious.

The moment the box appeared, the air temperature dropped sharply.

The flames in the fireplace suddenly dipped, their color changing from orange-red to dark red, as if something had drained their heat.

Several silver cutlery pieces on the long table vibrated slightly at the same time, emitting a high-frequency hum.

Walbuga gasped and covered his mouth.

Sirius Black, who had been sitting casually, became alert and stared intently at the bone box.

Orion frowned, no longer trying to hide it.

Regulus's gaze fell on the box, lingered for a moment, and then returned to Bella's face.

His expression remained unchanged, but his magical perception had already spread out.

The feedback was very confusing.

A powerful surge of soul energy, shattered and twisted, like countless people screaming simultaneously while their mouths were covered.

The concentration of dark magic was abnormally high, and it also had obvious guiding characteristics.

Its structure is complex, with at least seven nested layers of magical protection inside, and the core area is completely shielded from detection.

"That lord has heard about what happened at Hogwarts." Bella's voice was low, but every word seemed to carry a inflammatory tone.

"He upheld Blake's dignity and suppressed dissenting voices; he believed you demonstrated potential far beyond your years."

She looked into Regulus's eyes: "There's still the right inclination."

Regulus didn't reply, but simply tilted his head slightly, gesturing to listen.

Bella pushed the bone box forward, almost touching Regulus's chest.

"This is the essence of knowledge he rescued from an ancient, cursed ruin during his travels around the world when he was young."

She licked her lips, her eyes shining with a chilling light: "This is a dark revelation."

The restaurant was so quiet you could hear Walbuga's rapid breathing.

"Dark enlightenment?" Regulus repeated, his tone filled with doubt and caution. "Cousin, I don't quite understand—"

"It has no fixed incantation, no standard hand gestures," Bella interrupted him, speaking faster.

"It is a seed, a seed of dark magic. When you touch it, it will resonate with your soul, memories, and magic, and then show you a path."

"A road?" Regulus asked.

"The path to true power." Bella's voice was almost a whisper, her breath hot on Regulus's face.

"It will show you the possibilities that are obscured by worldly morality and cowardly common sense."

How to more efficiently transform pain into magic, how to perpetuate the curse in one's bloodline, how to extract pure power from despair!

She stared at Regulus's face, observing his reaction.

"Of course, it comes at a price. Those with weak wills will be consumed, indulging in a false sense of power, and ultimately suffering a mental breakdown, or..."

Bella laughed, revealing her teeth: "Completely corrupted by darkness, turned into a monster that only knows how to chase power."

The sage said, "This gift is only for those who dare to face the darkness and have the confidence to bring strength back from it."

Regulus fell silent.

His gaze returned to the bone box, this time examining it more closely.

He could feel the magic surging within the box actively enticing him.

Then he looked up at Bella, his face showing the expression of a young man—awe and hesitation.

"Cousin, thank you for that gentleman's kindness." He slowed his speech, his tone slightly hesitant.

"However, I worry that my knowledge is insufficient for such a profound magical creation."

"To approach rashly, without the proper method, would not only waste this gift, but also, due to my incompetence, might offend that person's good intentions."

Bella's smile froze for a moment.

Then she laughed again, this time in a shrill voice, with undisguised sarcasm.

"Scared?" She took a step closer, the bone box almost touching Regulus's chin.

"My dear Regulus, what are you afraid of? Are you afraid of power? Or are you afraid of the expectations that lord has for you?"

Regulus leaned back slightly, avoiding direct contact with the bone box, his eyes lowered: "I simply believe that such a precious gift should be treated with the necessary reverence and—"

"Awe?" Bella's voice rose. "That lord gave you the opportunity to touch true power, and you're talking about awe?"

"Regulus, you're twelve years old, not two. The heir to the Black family shouldn't be so timid."

Volbuga finally couldn't hold back any longer.

"Rael!" Her voice trembled, whether from excitement or nervousness, "Take it! This is an honor! That lord thinks highly of you!"