Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Lena walked quickly to the corner of the corridor, stopped, looked back, and waited a while before Samuel caught up from behind.

Lina looked at him, her tone less than polite: "I thought you weren't coming."

Samuel didn't respond. His expression was completely different from when he hesitated in the lounge earlier; he was very calm, as if he were a different person.

He said, "We'd better have a different approach."

Lina raised an eyebrow: "How so?"

Samuel said, "You act immediately without hesitation when you hear an order from Black, but I have to think about it and hesitate."

Whether it's useful or not, in his eyes, we might be different. If something else happens in the future, we'll have two choices.

Lina stared at him for a while and thought there was some truth to what he said.

She and Samuel were the same kind of people.

Half-bloods, Slytherins, are naturally marginalized in this house. The pure-blood families always look at them with a sense of "What are you doing here?"

In second grade, the two of them were the most vulnerable little group, and could only huddle together for warmth.

But huddling together for warmth isn't enough; you have to lean on each other more.

Lean towards Alex, towards that small group, towards Blake.

They don't have the right to directly climb up the social ladder yet, but they can stay on the periphery, be seen when needed, and do something to prove they are useful.

This is the wisdom of survival.

Lena knew it, and so did Samuel.

Lina snorted irritably, "You did the same thing last time."

Samuel frowned. "I told you, don't bring up what happened last time again, not even if it's just the two of us."

Lina shut her mouth; it was indeed inappropriate to bring up what happened last time.

Last semester, I was bullied by those Gryffindor bastards. Three of them cornered them, disarmed them, and locked them in an abandoned bathroom.

Thinking about those things still makes me feel humiliated.

But being bullied can sometimes turn into an opportunity.

They approached Alex for help.

But the goal wasn't for Alex to stand up for them; they wanted Alex to know about it so he could tell Blake.

Let Black know that there are two mixed-race first-years who are being bullied on the very edge of Slytherin.

They needed a reason to appear in Blake's sight.

Being bullied is that reason.

Blake eventually found out, and then he put Alex in charge of handling the matter.

For Blake, it was probably a trivial matter, something he might have even forgotten.

But for them, it was their first success, the first time they had been seen in this way.

After that, they stood behind Alex, not usually moving closer, but when needed, they would be there, not too close, but not too far either.

Lina took a deep breath and suppressed those thoughts.

"Okay, let's not talk about it," she began to instruct, "Go find the materials processing room, I'll go to my office."

Samuel nodded.

Lina said, "Come back quickly once you find it."

The two exchanged a glance and ran off in different directions.

Lina ran very fast; the corridor was empty except for the echo of her footsteps.

As she ran, she thought about what Blake had told Alex to do: go find Professor Slughorn and tell him there was something going on in the common room.

Just this one sentence, without explanation, without reason, without any way of saying it.

But that's enough. She doesn't need to know the reason; she just needs to get things done.

If it's done well, it will be seen.

If you don't do it well, you're nothing.

Slytherin is such a simple place.

She ran even faster.

The atmosphere in the lounge was lively, with two people standing in the center.

Rosalie Selwyn, Darius Nott.

Regulus sat on the sofa, watching them.

The older students around them were gathered in twos and threes, some holding wine glasses, some leaning back on the sofa, all their eyes fixed on the two people.

Rosalie is a girl from the Selwyn family. Her cousin, Selwyn, is in sixth grade and is sitting in the middle of the upperclassmen's section, twirling a wine glass in his hand and staring at the field.

Darius is from the Nott family, which is considered one of the top purebloods. Two people enrolled in this generation, but the older one has already graduated, leaving only Darius.

His expression was gloomy, quite different from the somewhat nervous freshmen around him.

The two faced off for a moment, then Darius struck first: "Faint to the ground!"

A beam of red light shot out from the tip of his staff, quite fast and at a tricky angle.

Rosalie dodged to the side with swift movement, simultaneously casting a spell: "Obstacles Abound!"

The purple spell struck Darius, and his body stiffened.

But he quickly broke free, took a step back, changed his angle, and delivered another attack: "Legs frozen, dead!"

Rosalie jumped to dodge, and the moment she landed, she was already chanting a spell: "Grinning mouth, whoosh!"

Darius's facial muscles twitched. He didn't laugh, but his lips were visibly trembling. He gritted his teeth and forced a reply.

"Tarantella Dance!"

Rosalie's feet began to jump uncontrollably as she dodged Darius's next spell, hopping around in the center of the arena, but her eyes remained fixed on him.

Darius seized the opportunity and cast another stun spell.

Rosalie jumped and dodged at the same time; her jumping was awkward, but her dodging was quite accurate.

Then she suddenly steadied herself, as if it had all been an act, and pointed her wand at Darius: "Expelliarmus!"

A beam of red light struck Darius squarely in the chest, causing his wand to fly out of his hand, spin twice in the air, and land on the ground, rolling to the feet of the crowd.

Darius stood there, stunned.

Looking at his empty hands, he lowered his head and admitted defeat.

A round of applause and whistles rang out, and the older students' side became lively.

"The Selwyn family one is pretty solid!"

"I knew she wasn't cursed at all!"

"The Nott family's are no good. They look gloomy and don't even realize their spells aren't working."

"Last year's Murseb was also gloomy, but that was real skill. What's this? All he does is glare?"

Several people exchanged glances; some shook their heads, others shrugged.

Regulus looked at Rosalie.

Darius Nott looks a bit like Hermes from last year; both have that gloomy temperament, don't talk much, and look intimidating.

But if Hermes, who had just enrolled last year, were to fight him, Hermes would win easily.

This person isn't very good.

Rosalie Selwyn, on the other hand, is quite something.

They don't shout when casting spells; they always chant in a low voice.

Their movement is also agile; they know where to hide, when to advance, and when to retreat.

They would also pretend to be under a curse to confuse their opponents and then defeat them in one fell swoop.

He has ideas, and even tactical awareness, which is quite rare at his age.

But it's only a rare occurrence.

Regulus looked away.

He finds this level of fighting rather uninteresting now, like watching two toddlers racing each other.

A few weeks ago in Germany, he faced an opponent of the caliber of Whispers of the Abyss.

Disintegration spells, Fiendfire, spatial warp—that's the real battle. Every spell can be fatal, and every move requires calculation.

These things in front of me...

He leaned back on the sofa, his fingers lightly tapping his knees.

It's boring, but we still have to watch it.

Polyus Greengrass walked to the center of the field and raised his hand: "Rosalie Selwyn wins!"

On the upper grades side, Selwin, a sixth-grader, stood up.

He raised his wine glass, gestured to the people around him, and smiled, but the smile was restrained and not too ostentatious.

Several people around him congratulated him.

"This is nice!"

"Very stable, will be successful in the future!"

"The Selwyn family has really made a name for themselves this year. The Nott family's was no good, but yours is!"

"Come on, have a drink!"

The sixth-grader, Selwyn, nodded with a smile, saying that he was still far from good enough, but he couldn't hide the smugness on his face.

He clinked glasses with a few people around him, took a sip, then sat down, his gaze still fixed on Rosalie, and nodded in satisfaction.

Veronica Yaxley took the list and walked to the center of the field.

She stood ramrod straight, her gaze sweeping across the entire room, before announcing, "Next match: Jeffrey Sayler versus Rosalie Selwyn."

A murmur of discussion arose from the surrounding area.

"Sylvain? Who's that?"

"The one who just used the powerful knockback spell?"

"Yes, that's him, he's quite powerful."

"This is going to be interesting to face Selwyn."

Someone from the older students whistled.

"Betting open! Bet one Galon, Selwyn wins!"

"I'll bet two, Sayre!"

"Come on, with those moves, Seyler wouldn't last three minutes against Selwin!"

"That's not necessarily true. That kid's spells are powerful; he might actually have some skill!"

Some people shook their heads.

A seventh-grade boy leaned back on the sofa and said to the person next to him, "These two are not bad, but they are far from being as good as last year."

The person next to him nodded: "They're not even in the same league. Muller Seber wasn't bad either. Everyone thought he was amazing back then, but..."

"As a result, Blake dominated him, and a single Ironclad Spell blocked all of his attacks."

"And then there was that time, Travers, ugh, that was awful."

In the center of the arena, Rosalie and Jeffrey stood face to face.

Rosalie's expression remained calm and unchanged. Her wand hung at her side as she looked at Jeffrey opposite her.

Jeffrey had his head down, his toes circling on the ground, looking very nervous. He wasn't tall, and his appearance was average; he didn't stand out much.

"Sele," Regulus thought to himself, "probably from some small, unknown family, only one or two generations of purebloods."

Then he saw that the restlessness of the magic power within the boy's body was even more pronounced.

Rosalie and Jeffrey were about to begin when they both raised their wands simultaneously.

Just then, Regulus suddenly spoke up. His voice was soft and his tone was calm, but clear enough: "Stop."

The entire lounge fell silent instantly, and everyone looked at him.

Rosalie's wand stopped in mid-air, and she turned her head to look this way. Jeffrey was also stunned.

Polyus Greengrass frowned and turned around. "Mr. Black, what's wrong?"

His tone was steady, without any sign of dissatisfaction or impatience; he was simply asking a question.

Regulus did not answer directly.

He leaned back on the sofa, his hands still clasped together on his lower abdomen, his gaze meeting that of Polyus.

"Mr. Greengrass, are there any other arrangements after they decide the winner?"

Regulus did not answer directly.

He leaned back on the sofa, his hands still clasped together on his lower abdomen, his gaze meeting that of Polyus.

"Mr. Greengrass, are there any other arrangements after they decide the winner?"

Polyus paused for a moment, then said, "Yes, the winning freshman can choose whether or not to challenge the previous chief."

He added, "It's not mandatory, just an opportunity to get guidance."

Regulus nodded; he had guessed it.

This part was added this year. Polyus and Veronica are the new prefects, and it's normal that they wanted to add something new to the orientation party.

Regulus spread out his senses and gently swept them over.