Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

The first day of school, the first class, on the basement floor, the Potions classroom.

Slytherin and Gryffindor sat on opposite sides of the classroom, separated by several rows of empty desks, like an invisible wall.

Over in Gryffindor, the chatter was deafening as people shared their holiday experiences.

It was much quieter in Slytherin. Occasionally there were whispers, but they quickly stopped. Most people just sat quietly, waiting for the professor to arrive.

Regulus and Hermes sat in a group against the wall, with Avery and Alex behind them.

The back door of the classroom opened, and Professor Slughorn walked in, his round belly squeezing through the door first, followed by his ever-smiling face.

He walked to the front of the classroom, opened his arms as if to embrace the whole class, and said in an enthusiastic voice with a clear theatrical element: "Ah, second grade!"

Welcome back, my dear classmates! How was your holiday? I hope you all had a good rest, because this year—”

He blinked, his voice becoming mysterious: "We're about to get involved in some really interesting things."

With a wave of the magic wand, the chalk on the blackboard began to write automatically.

Healing medication:

Ingredients: Dictamnus dasycarpus leaf juice, scorpion eggshell powder, daisy root, dragon's blood.

Features: Quickly heals moderate wounds, with a noticeable burning sensation.

Difficulty: The order of ingredients is critical, and the cooking time and temperature are critical.

Slughorn clapped his hands, took out a crystal bottle from under the podium, held it up to his eyes, and shook it in the light. The bottle contained a pale red liquid, clear and transparent, like diluted ruby ​​juice.

"Healing potions, you learned about basic healing potions last year, but those were only for minor abrasions, this—"

He shook the bottle: "It can close a three-inch-deep wound in seconds. Of course, it will be a little hot, like being burned by fire, so it's called a healing potion."

He placed the bottle back on the podium and began explaining the ingredients: "Dictamnus dasycarpus leaf juice, the core of its healing effect, freshness determines its efficacy. The ones on your table were picked last night, but—"

His gaze swept across the classroom, a slight smile on his face: "If someone could extract it on the spot, the effect would be better, but we're second-year students, so we'll just follow the steps."

He continued speaking.

"Fire ash snake eggshell powder provides a burning sensation and also acts as a stabilizer; daisy root neutralizes excess heat and prevents burns."

Dragon's blood, in trace amounts, accelerates the healing process, but adding even a single drop will ruin the entire pot of medicine.

He spoke with great enthusiasm, clearly enjoying the feeling of standing on the podium.

"Alright," he clapped his hands, "Let's begin, in order. Start with the juice of Dictamnus dasycarpus leaves, heat over medium heat until bubbles appear around the edges."

Add sliced ​​daisy roots and stir clockwise seven times until the liquid turns a pale blue color. Then add the powdered fire ash snake eggshells in three batches, with a 30-second interval between each addition.

Finally, turn off the heat and wait for the temperature to drop to lukewarm. Add one drop of dragon's blood—no more.

The classroom was filled with the sounds of mortar and pestle crushing, crucible heating, and the occasional low murmur of someone knocking something over.

Regulus didn't rush to make a move. While listening to Slughorn's explanation, his attention had already drifted elsewhere.

This content was too basic for him.

Natural magic allows him to directly perceive the magical state of plants. Those steps, techniques, and precautions are like teaching someone how to eat with a spoon—useful, but unnecessary.

He subtly extended his magical senses, and there were four sets of materials on the table, each in a different container.

White safflower juice, a green liquid, is stored in a glass bottle. Its magical energy is very active, like freshly picked leaves that are not yet fully dead and are still breathing.

However, the edges are somewhat blurred because a small portion of the activity has been lost after being left for several hours following extraction.

The Fire Ash Snake eggshell powder, grayish-white, is stored in another bottle. Its magic is very stable, but that stability is a dead stability.

Like a frozen flame, it no longer burns, leaving only residual heat.

Daisy root slices, pale yellow, possess a gentle and lingering magic, like a stream flowing slowly.

Dragon blood, only one drop, sealed in a small crystal bottle, bright red, its magic so violent it almost shattered the bottle's walls.

That's the magic of life, still boiling, still burning.

Regulus thought that if he were to prepare this medicine, he wouldn't even need to follow the order.

Using magical perception to monitor the potion's status in real time, deciding which step to add what, and when to stir, is entirely based on changes in magical power, making it more precise than any fixed procedure.

Then he thought of something else: what is the essence of potion brewing?

The steps, sequence, and techniques that Slughorn described are all paths that predecessors have explored. By following these paths, one can reach the destination.

But the path isn't the only way. If he can see the destination directly, why would he still follow the path?

He looked at the bottle of finished healing potion on the podium. The pale red liquid swayed gently in the bottle, its magical fluctuations stable and mild, carrying a healing tendency.

Slughorn had just stepped down from the podium to check on the students' progress.

When he reached Regulus's row, Regulus looked up and whispered, "Professor, may I see that bottle of finished product?"

Slughorn looked down at him, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "Oh? Mr. Black, is there a problem?"

Regulus shook his head: "I just wanted to check on the condition of the finished product."

Slughorn stared at him for a moment, then laughed.

He turned and walked back to the podium, picked up the bottle of healing potion, and then walked back and placed it on Regulus's desk.

"See?" he said with a smile, "but don't take too long, the other students are waiting to take notes."

Regulus picked up the crystal bottle, held it in his palm, closed his eyes, and probed into it with his magical senses. The potion unfolded in his consciousness.

The pale red liquid transformed from a visual color into a spectrum of magic.

The healing tendency of white peony surges at the deepest level, thick and long, like soil covering seeds.

The burning sensation of the Fire Ash Snake eggshell felt like a thin layer of flame covering it, hot but not scorching.

The neutralizing magic of daisy root flows like water, passing between the two layers and keeping the burning within a safe range.

That drop of dragon blood acted as a catalyst, permeating all the magic, bringing them to life, causing them to intertwine and form a stable whole.

He sensed the magical state that the finished product should possess.

That healing tendency, that burning yet not excessive balance, that complete form after all the magical power of the materials has been fused together.

He placed the crystal bottle back on the table, nodded to Slughorn, and politely thanked him, "Thank you, Professor."

Slughorn picked up the bottle, glanced at him, said nothing, and turned to continue his inspection.

Regulus turned his attention back to the materials on his table. He stretched out his hand and hovered it above the four materials, activating his magical perception and control at full power.

The juice of Dictamnus dasycarpus leaves, with its dispersed healing tendency, is gathered together and solidified, transforming from an uncertain state into a stable one.

The burning sensation from the solidified powdered fire ash snake eggshell was rekindled, but then suppressed, like a tamed flame that only provides heat without spreading.

Daisy root slices, with their gentle magical flow accelerated, enter a neutralized state ahead of time, ready to strike at any moment.

Dragon blood, its violent catalytic power was suppressed, its impulse held back, awaiting the opportune moment for release.

The four magical powers existed and changed simultaneously in his perception, independent of each other yet mutually influencing one another.

He made them attract to each other, guiding them to develop their own inclination to merge.

The healing properties of white safflower tend to resemble the burning sensation of a charred snake eggshell, while the magic of daisy root flows between the two, regulating the balance.

Dragon blood lingered on the edge, waiting for that moment.

Then he realized, it's now.

Regulus opened his eyes and began pouring materials into the crucible in a completely different order than Slughorn had instructed.

First, the juice of Dictamnus dasycarpus leaves was poured in, and the green liquid spread out at the bottom of the pot. Then, the powdered shells of the fire ash snake were added, and the grayish-white powder fell into the green liquid without stirring or heating.

Next comes the sliced ​​daisy root, pale yellow flakes falling on top, and finally, dragon's blood, dripped into the center of all the ingredients.

Hermes was processing his materials nearby, glancing at Regulus out of the corner of his eye.

He saw that Regulus hadn't followed the steps at all, and hadn't even heated it up. Then he saw the contents of the crucible start moving on their own.

All the materials were fusing together, and after a dozen seconds, everything stopped.

The crucible contained a pale red liquid, clear and stable, exactly the same as the finished product on the podium.

Hermes looked away and continued processing his materials. He made no sound and didn't even look at them for long.

He had long accepted the fact that Regulus and they were not the same kind of people; they were on completely different levels—combat magic, dark magic, and now potions.

Looking at it again will only make you doubt your own existence.

At the other end of the classroom, Slughorn stood in the corner, watching the whole scene unfold.

When Regulus sensed it with his hand, he noticed it, and then he saw the order in which Regulus poured the ingredients, and saw the ingredients blend together in the pot on their own.

He recognized it; it was an old-fashioned configuration.

In the days before potion-making was systematized, powerful wizards would brew potions without following steps or relying on heat, directly using magic to guide the magic of the ingredients, allowing them to fuse together on their own.

But this method has long been obsolete; it's good, but it's just too difficult.

There are very few wizards in history who can achieve this level of skill, and it is only effective on low-level potions.

This method is completely useless for those high-level potions that require the full involvement of a wizard's magic, and those complex formulas that require specific rituals to activate.

But in any case, this is not something a second-grade student should be able to do.

Slughorn didn't make a sound. He glanced at them, then looked away and continued to inspect the other students.

When the bell rang, the students handed in their finished products to the teacher's desk one after another.

Slughorn looked at each one, commented, scored, and occasionally added a few points.

Regulus put the potion into a small vial, handed it over, and said nothing.

He knew that what he had just done was a bit of a cheat, not following the professor's instructions, which strictly speaking was cheating, and he shouldn't have made a fuss about it.

He knew that what he had just done was a bit of a cheat, not following the professor's instructions, which strictly speaking was cheating, and he shouldn't have made a fuss about it.

Slughorn gave him a score, but neither added points nor offered any comments.

Just as Regulus was about to follow, Slughorn's voice came from behind: "Mr. Black, wait a moment."