Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Over the next few days, Regulus attended classes as usual, went to the library as usual, went to the forbidden book section as usual, and went to the Room of Requirement as usual, without rushing to the Forbidden Forest.

Last time, I was looking at the moonlight when the idea suddenly struck me and I wanted to go.

It's a strange feeling, like a thought pops into your head and you want it to come true.

Then they encountered Sirius and his friends, met Dumbledore, and witnessed the werewolf transformation.

I thought about all sorts of random things, and then listened to Dumbledore talk about spirit and consciousness.

He didn't know if it was just a coincidence, some kind of intuition, or simply a whim.

There are many things in the magical world that are hard to explain.

Premonition, intuition, sixth sense, or something else; going further up, it's prophecy or foresight.

Some wizards are born with it, while others never encounter it in their entire lives.

He didn't know if he had it, but it was highly likely he didn't; the Black family had never heard of any ancestor with such an ability.

These skills are mostly tied to bloodlines; you can only have them if your ancestors had them, and you probably won't have them if your ancestors didn't.

I wonder how the original prophet of the Trelawney family acquired this ability—was it innate or acquired?

And Grindelwald, was he also born that way?

Regulus dismissed the thought; it had nothing to do with him.

He didn't intend to deliberately pursue this feeling; perhaps it was just a coincidence. But anyway, it wouldn't take much effort, so he could just wait.

If so, it might mean something; if not, then forget it.

The Forbidden Forest is right there; you can go anytime you want.

One afternoon in late September, at the library.

Regulus was sitting in his usual spot, flipping through a book about mental magic. He was reading a crucial part when he caught a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of his eye.

Sirius Black.

He stood in front of a row of bookshelves, flipping through some book quickly, making a rustling sound.

After flipping through the books for a while, I put them back, pulled out another one, and then... *clatter*.

The noise could be heard throughout the entire library.

Mrs. Pince stood up from behind the counter, her hooked nose facing him, her gaze like two knives.

"Mr. Blake!"

Sirius was just flipping through the book, but he was quite focused. When he was called out like that, his hand trembled and the book almost flew out of his hand.

He turned around and met Mrs. Pince's face, his movements stiffening for a moment.

Then he forced a smile, it was hard to tell whether he was trying to please or just habitually provoking.

"If you don't feel like reading in the library, you can go outside."

Sirius opened his mouth as if to explain, but then swallowed his words back.

He carefully put the book back on the shelf, making sure his movements were gentle, and glanced at Mrs. Pince out of the corner of his eye to see if she was far away.

Regulus looked away; he knew what Sirius was looking for: a way to keep the werewolves company on the night of the full moon.

He already knew the answer: it was Animagus, but no one asked him, and he wouldn't tell them on his own initiative.

Friendships are something that outsiders shouldn't interfere with; let them have their own fun.

He recalled the conversation he had with Sirius during the holidays, about talent and about the path.

He had Sirius try out all the magic he could get his hands on, to see which area he progressed the fastest in, which area he found easiest, and which area he wanted to continue studying.

I don't know if he tried it or if he found it.

If Sirius discovers he is good at Transfiguration and consciously works on it, would it take him longer to master Animagus?

How long did it take in the original story?

It seems like it will be one or two years, or even longer?

Regulus wasn't sure, but he knew that Sirius was doing something worthwhile, no matter what.

That's good.

He turned a page and continued reading.

......

One Wednesday in late September, in the early morning, at the House of Requirement.

Hermes lay on the ground again, limbs outstretched, chest heaving, eyes half-closed, like a stranded fish.

Several fake wands were scattered around him, along with the broken arms and legs of several wooden dummy figures.

He wouldn't have been able to achieve this level of skill on his own.

But he knew Regulus was still in that small room inside, and he knew that when he finished training and came out, he would see him lying there, and he would use a levitation charm to lift him up and take him back to his dormitory.

So he confidently trained himself to the point of exhaustion, knowing that someone would take care of him anyway.

He might need to lie down for a while longer.

Regulus ignored Hermes outside.

This guy is getting more and more audacious, taking advantage of the fact that he won't actually leave people here. He trains until he's exhausted every time, and then waits to be rescued.

It's like I've raised some kind of pet.

But Regulus didn't say anything. It was a good thing that he was willing to train, and it wouldn't be difficult to make a quick buck anyway.

He sat in the small room, thinking about what the professors had said for the past few days.

Professor Slughorn said that magic is a partner, not a servant.

Professor McGonagall said that some things cannot be changed by transfiguration: location, relationships, and points in the timeline.

As Dumbledore said, will overrides instinct, and self-awareness is the foundation of everything.

These words are too far removed from his reality.

He could understand, knew it was right, and knew it was something on a higher level.

These words are too far removed from his reality.

He could understand, knew it was right, and knew it was something on a higher level.

But to truly transform them into tangible power will take time and require a deeper understanding of magic.

The professors pointed him in the right direction, but he had to walk the path himself.

Regulus felt his current state.

Mental strength, willpower, physical strength, and spiritual stability all originate from star trail meditation.

The five stars revolved, and with each rotation, he grew stronger, slowly but steadily, a feeling he could clearly sense.

This progress has been ongoing since the day Betelgeuse was illuminated.

But what those professors were talking about was still beyond my reach.

Even if you can't reach it, you still have to think about it.

Regulus pondered Dumbledore's words, his mental defenses, and his self-awareness.

The protective imagery of Betelgeuse has been incorporated into the Constant Iron Armor Spell.

The reason why the Constant Iron Armor Spell is called Constant is because it takes effect passively and does not require the deliberate mobilization of magic power.

He maintained it for nearly a year, and the magic had become almost instinctive; it was there without him even thinking about it.

What about mental defense?

He only uses the Occlusive surgery when he needs to; it's not always on.

Keeping the mind closed indefinitely is certainly possible, but that would mean continuously consuming magic and mental energy.

And more importantly, it makes people feel like they're separated by a membrane.

Maintaining a closed-off mindset for a long time can make it difficult for people to feel emotions and connect with others. By wrapping yourself up too tightly, you can't touch other people.

Regulus didn't feel he needed to run into anyone, at least not right now, but he didn't want to either.

But now, he has another idea.

Betelgeuse is a guardian, protecting me as I am. Could this "I" also become part of the barrier?

If self-protection and mental defense can be combined to make "I" more stable, then wouldn't it be possible to achieve a similar defensive effect without constantly keeping the mind closed?

Regulus began to try, but this was clearly not something that could be accomplished in a day or two.

During his daily meditation, he would repeatedly ponder a question at the center of the celestial orbit.

who am I?

When he answered Dumbledore, he said, "I know who I am."

But now, in the deepest part of his star trail meditation, he is thinking even more deeply.

The name Regulus Black, the identity of the heir to the Black family, and all that he has learned and experienced so far.

What is the most fundamental element, the basis upon which I am?

It is that which will never waver, no matter how the world changes, no matter what Dumbledore's guidance, Voldemort's gifts, or Grindelwald's arrangements.

He needs to find it and make it clear enough to be the strongest barrier in the spiritual realm.

On the first day, I didn't see anything.

The next day, it was still empty.

On the third day, a somewhat blurry outline appeared.

On the fourth day, the outline became a little clearer.

Day 5, Day 6, Day 7.

He does this every day.

In the deepest part of the celestial orbit, at the core of the spiritual world, he repeatedly perceived, repeatedly confirmed, and repeatedly asked himself that question.

Finally, he saw it.

At the center of the star's orbit, in the place where the light is brightest, there is a figure.

It's very small, about the size of a thumb, standing there with its back to him, or rather, there's no distinction between front and back; it just exists as it is.

Regulus looked at the figure and a strange feeling welled up inside him.

That's him.

Put aside his appearance, his identity, his experiences, and all external factors, that is what makes him who he is.

The light from the star trails flowed over the figure like water, like wind, like time, but it remained still, simply existing.

All magic, all will, all perception, all thought originate from there.

Regulus knew what this was.

His soul—he saw his own soul for the first time.

This process lasted for an unknown period of time. In the spiritual world, time has no inherent meaning; it may be a moment or a day.

When he came out of meditation and opened his eyes, the small room was still the same, with the light floating in the air and the four walls quiet.

Regulus looked down at his hands. Nothing seemed to have changed, but he knew something was different.

He continued to practice in the days that followed.

Every day I meditate, every day I watch that figure, watching it become clearer and more stable in the center of the star trails.

Watching the light flowing from it, it grew brighter and purer.

The process was slow, but he wasn't in a hurry.

By the end of September, Regulus sensed a change; it was subtle, but noticeable enough.

My senses have become more acute; things that I used to need to concentrate to perceive, I can now capture with a mere thought.

The magical perception—the traces of those spells, the faint activity in the materials, the subtle emotions that the wizard inadvertently revealed—was all as clear as if I could see them with my own eyes.

Spatial perception: the boundaries of the room, the thickness of the walls, the subtle folds in the air, and even the spatial rhythm created by the castle itself as it breathes can all be clearly perceived.

The guardian deity has become more powerful, its light is more dazzling and silvery-white, and its form is more solid and more agile than ever before.

At this moment, it emerged autonomously from Regulus's chest and moved lightly through the small room.

Each flap of its wings stirred up a swirling starlight that circled around Regulus, appearing and disappearing intermittently, its shimmering light revealing an almost instinctive will to protect him.

Even the Fiery Blaze became more obedient. When those orange-red flames swirled around it, there was an inexplicable sense of closeness, as if it were willing to be tamed.

Regulus knew that the progress brought about by the illumination of Betelgeuse had only been fully digested at this point.

The Star Orbit Meditation was constantly in operation, continuously enhancing him; his magic, spirit, and will were growing stronger every moment.

But these advances only truly stabilized when that little man appeared at the center of the star trail.

That guardian star illuminates not just a corner of the star trail, but something deeper—the soul.

Now the starlight of that star has been completely integrated into his system, and with each rotation of the five stars, it nourishes that little man.

It is clearer and more stable than before, as if it has taken root in the center of the star trails.

Now he can move on to the next step: lighting up Betelgeuse.

Regulus stood up, pushed open the door and went out. Outside, Hermes was still lying on the ground.

Upon seeing him, Hermes' eyes flickered, waiting to be rescued.

Regulus tapped his finger, casting the Levitation Spell.

The two drifted towards the dormitory, one after the other.

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