Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

What happened last night has escalated, just as Regulus predicted, only in a slightly different direction.

He underestimated the young wizards' desire to take shortcuts.

Especially those young wizards who have adult wizards in their families mostly come from mixed-race families or pure-blood families that have only been passed down for a few generations.

Compared to Muggle-born individuals, they have some knowledge, but it is clearly not enough.

They knew that the Ironclad Charm was difficult to master, and that many adult wizards in families couldn't cast it properly.

So Regulus's actions last night made them envious, as if they had discovered some incredible secret.

So that's how the Ironclad Spell is practiced?

So this is how you can practice the Ironclad Spell?

So someone can make a first-year student release a complete barrier with just a point of their wand?

So the reason my dad couldn't unleash the Ironclad Spell was because no one was helping him?

They didn't think about it deeply, nor could they think about it deeply.

No skilled enough wizard told them that the method was merely a trick, a way to get a taste of something in advance.

To truly master a spell, you have to practice it yourself.

They only see the results.

So overnight, those senior students who could cast the complete Ironclad Spell suddenly became popular.

In the hallways and common rooms, younger students were everywhere, crowding around to ask questions.

"Senior, can you teach me like Blake did?"

"Senior, is there any trick to the Ironclad Spell?"

The expressions of those asked varied.

Some are honest and say directly, "I can't do that. It might require some unique skill or a more advanced ability."

Some people didn't know the answer before, but after being asked many times, they started to give vague answers.

A fifth-year Gryffindor boy leaned back on a sofa in the common room and said to the first-years surrounding him, "Well... Black's method isn't something everyone can use."

"Yes, you need unique spellcasting techniques. You're not quite there yet. Start by practicing the basics."

He spoke with a straight face, though he didn't really know what he was saying, but the first-year students nodded repeatedly.

Another fourth-year Ravenclaw girl said something of truth, lowering her voice to say, "The trick to the Ironclad Charm is... don't tell anyone."

It's about imagining someone you really dislike, and then amplifying that feeling of not wanting to be near them.

She looked around and added, "It would be best to call him over and let him confess his feelings to you."

Several first-grade girls' eyes lit up: "Really?"

"Of course it's true." The senior student nodded with certainty.

A boy next to him who knew the truth rolled his eyes; he was the one who had been rejected back then.

She approached him shyly and said, "I can accept you, but you haven't confessed your feelings to me yet."

He was so excited that he couldn't sleep all night.

The following evening, she changed into a new robe, held a bouquet of flowers, and confessed her love in front of the entire common room.

Then she rejected him harshly in front of everyone.

Now, listening to her earnestly imparting her secrets, he finally understood what was going on.

However, he no longer cared, only blaming himself for being too young back then.

As for the truly pure-blooded families, they didn't join in the fun; they have people to ask.

Many owls flew out last night, and this morning, replies also flew back.

But the tone of the letter from home was not very polite.

Most of the time, they were told to practice the basics and not to think about anything else.

By the way, try to build a good relationship with the heir of the Black family, but don't be too deliberate or make him dislike you.

A sixth-grade boy sighed after reading the letter.

The letter said that the method was indeed ingenious, but it was not suitable for ordinary junior wizards. Just read it and don't overthink it. Just practice what you need to practice.

He put the letter away and didn't tell anyone.

Meanwhile, in Gryffindor, James Potter also heard about what happened last night.

Of course he knew about the Ironclad Charm; he was able to cast it last semester.

It's unclear whether he was originally skilled in dueling magic, or whether he trained diligently after being repeatedly crushed by Regulus.

In short, he can release it, but his skill level is just barely enough to cast it.

Last semester he was able to block a few of Sirius's spells, but when this semester started, he realized something was wrong.

Sirius could break through his barrier with a single spell.

Once is a coincidence, twice is luck, but three times is not.

James had a question on his mind, but he didn't ask it.

Now, upon hearing what Regulus had done last night, a thought suddenly popped into his head.

In the History of Magic class, no one was listening to what Professor Binns was saying.

James nudged Sirius, who was lost in thought and was startled by the nudity.

James lowered his voice, his expression mysterious: "Sirius, can you do that too?"

Sirius frowned: "Do what?"

James moved closer to him, lowering his voice even further, but he couldn't really hide it.

"Oh, you mean that one? You've improved so much during the holidays, do you also have that ability to teach people with a single point of a magic wand?"

Several young wizards nearby perked up their ears; some pretended to flip through a book, others pretended to look at the ceiling, but their attention all drifted over.

Sirius's expression froze for a moment. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but swallowed the words back down.

James is comparing him to Regulus, assuming that he can do anything Regulus can do.

He knew, of course, how formidable Regulus was; that overwhelming gap couldn't be bridged simply by rapid progress.

He spent a month training with Hawke during his vacation, and then another month of training. When he came back, he was indeed able to widen the gap between himself and James.

But compared to Regulus—

There's no comparison at all.

But how do you put it?

They say my brother is much better than me, that he can do it but I can't?

Or is it that the Black family doesn't actually have any secret magic, and it's just that Regulus himself is too abnormal?

Sirius's expression changed several times before he finally replied to James with a curt tone, "Pay attention in class."

James paused for a moment, then shrugged. He assumed Sirius was uncomfortable talking about it in public and decided to ask him back in his dorm.

Not far away, Lily pricked up her ears, looked in this direction, blinked, and seemed to be thinking about something.

The situation was also escalating on Professor Flitwick's side; he was cornered by several Ravenclaw students.

"Professor, how did Black manage to use that armor-piercing spell?"

"What's the principle behind it?"

"Can we learn it?"

Flitwick stood on a pile of books, shaking his head with a smile.

"That's a very advanced technique. Simply put, it's using your own magic to guide the other person's magic, letting them experience what the spell should look like in advance. It's not a shortcut, just a kind of inspiration."

One student pressed further, "Can we also be inspired by this?"

Flitwick blinked: "You need to be guided by someone who is exceptionally skilled. If you want to be inspired, you'll first need to find someone that skilled."

The students looked at each other and didn't ask any more questions.

Professor McGonagall wasn't so gentle; she criticized several lower Gryffindor students as soon as they opened their mouths.

"Ironclad Spell? You haven't even mastered the basic transformations, what are you talking about? Go back and practice turning a match into a needle a hundred times!"

The students slunk away.

In Professor Sprout's greenhouse, the atmosphere was much more mild, but the rejections were also quite firm.

"no."

Regulus stood in front of her, but before he could say a second word, he was silenced.

The professor was repotting a mandrake plant without even looking up.

Regulus thought for a moment and then rephrased his statement: "Professor, I just want to study the magical properties of the Whomping Willow."

Sprout looked up at him. "Research? With what?"

"See with your eyes, sense with your magic," Regulus said. "Don't touch it, don't break it, don't harm it."

Sprout stared at him for a moment, then sighed and put down her tools.

"Mr. Black, do you know how rare the Whomping Willow is?"

Regulus shook his head, but he actually knew.

Sprout walked to the window and pointed to the willow tree in the distance that was still swaying.

"That tree is over two hundred years old. Do you know why it was planted there?"

Regulus thought for a moment: "Protect the entrance to the shack?"

Sprout shook his head: "That shed didn't exist back then."

She didn't say anything more, turned around, and looked at Regulus.

"There's another one, a seedling I planted myself thirty years ago. It's only just out of the seedling stage and is still a long way from being an adult."

She continued, "The growth cycle of the willow tree is very long. It takes 30 years for the seedling stage, another 30 years for the growth stage, and then it enters the stable stage. It takes 60 years for a willow tree to grow from planting to maturity."

"So in the whole of Britain, there are only two decent beating willows, one at Hogwarts and the other I'm still raising."

Regulus paused for a moment, then asked, "Then...can I buy it?"

Sprout shook his head: "There's nowhere to buy them. Occasionally, seedlings appear on the black market, costing five to eight thousand Galleons each."

However, the survival rate is extremely low; if you buy one, it will most likely die. Even an adult one has a price, but nobody will sell it.

Regulus did some mental calculations.

Eight thousand Galleons.

One mandrake costs 150, twenty mandrakes cost 3,000, and 8,000 gallons can buy more than 50 mandrakes.

It is indeed expensive, but not unaffordable.

The investment of Mandrake resulted in the Disintegration Curse, which can be used as a trump card.

Even if the price of the "Hit-Man Willow" increases several times, it's worth it as long as new spells can be developed.

But it's not worth spending 8,000 Galleons on a seedling that has a high probability of not surviving.

Regulus then asked, "What about the wild ones? Do you know where there are wild *Willow of the Bastard*?"

Sprout glanced at him: "Still not giving up?"

Regulus lowered his head, looking a little embarrassed.

Sprout said, "There are a few in the Bulgarian Magic Reserve, wild mature plants, and also on the edge of the Romanian Fire Dragon Reserve, mixed in with the fire dragon habitat."

There's an old manor in southern France that reportedly has a private collection of one. It's also said to exist deep in Germany's Black Forest, but no one has confirmed this.

She looked at Regulus: "What, thinking of going abroad to find one?"

Regulus shook his head: "Just asking."

Sprout stared at him for a moment, then suddenly laughed: "I think I know what you're up to."

Regulus looked up, but said nothing.

Sprout walked back to the workbench, picked up a pot of mandrake seedlings, and looked at it as he spoke.

Regulus looked up, but said nothing.

Sprout walked back to the workbench, picked up a pot of mandrake seedlings, and looked at it as he spoke.

"The magical properties of the 'Hit-and-Beat Willow' are indeed very special. When it attacks, it doesn't rely on strength, but on conduction."

Its attacks penetrate the target's interior through magical energy, causing shockwaves within.

The stone was struck, leaving only a mark on the outside, but it might have already shattered inside.

Regulus kept repeating the two words to himself: vibration and conduction.

Then he thought of the Shattering Charm, which is an explosion that blasts the target apart from the outside.

The shattering of the willow catkins is different; it bursts out from the inside.

This is a smarter approach than mere destruction.

It is especially effective on tightly connected objects; stone, metal, and the physical structure of magical creations are all potential targets.

Isn't this exactly what he wanted?

The Disintegration Curse's disintegration tube is alive, while the Man-Slaying Willow's pulverizing tube is hard.

One addresses life, the other addresses matter.

They complement each other perfectly.

Regulus asked for more details, such as how magic is conducted, how vibrations are triggered, and what the differences are in their effects on different types of matter.

Sprout answered all of them, explaining everything in detail and not hiding anything.

After she finished speaking, she asked Regulus, "Is that enough?"

Regulus nodded gratefully: "That's enough, thank you, Professor."

Sprout waved his hand: "Alright, go ahead. Remember, don't even think about that tree in the castle. That one doesn't belong to me; it belongs to Hogwarts."

Regulus smiled. "I promise I won't touch it."

He turned to leave, but Sprout called him back.

"Mr. Blake."

He turned around.

Sprout looked at him seriously: "If one day you really find the Whomping Willow and figure something out, remember to tell me."

Regulus nodded solemnly and sincerely: "Definitely."

He pushed open the door and went out.

Inside the greenhouse, Sprout watched the door close and shook his head.

She could roughly guess what the child was planning to do, but she didn't intend to stop him.

It's his skill that he was able to figure it out.

If he can't figure it out, that's his problem.