Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

The weather was perfect on the first Friday of October.

Sunlight streamed in through the library's tall windows, casting streaks of light on the tabletops and warming the skin.

Outside the window, the surface of the Black Lake shimmered with light. On the lawn by the lake, many young wizards were strolling, chatting, and playing around.

Regulus sat in his usual spot, in the corner by the window, with a thick book open in front of him.

"Encyclopedia of Magical Plants in Britain and Surrounding Areas"

He turned to the page about the man who hit Liu, read a few lines, and then turned back.

The book contains only standard information: place of origin, morphological characteristics, maintenance tips, and risk level.

When and by whom it was discovered, in which regions it is distributed, what kind of growth environment it needs, and what precautions should be taken when attacking it.

There wasn't a single word about the nature of magic.

This is normal.

Just like the book "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," it doesn't describe the magical properties of the magical creatures.

Newt writes about habits, distribution, and methods of raising animals; he never writes about the magical principles of animals.

Newt's decision not to write those things was probably intentional.

If Newt had written down the magical properties of every magical creature, it might have inspired some wizards, like himself.

If you find a particular animal's ability useful, or develop targeted magic, it could be a disaster for those animals.

Without buying, there would be no killing.

Without research, there is no target.

The same principle applies to magical plants.

Regulus could only guess.

Regulus flipped through the pages, his gaze sweeping over the familiar plant names, reviewing their characteristics in his mind, before continuing to flip through the pages.

Those that are less common are only briefly described in books, including their names, locations of discovery, and basic characteristics.

But for him, that was enough; the descriptions of his characteristics often contained clues of a magical nature.

The Frost-Weeping Tulip blooms only when the first snow falls each year. Its petals freeze but do not wither, and a cool liquid drips from them in the sunlight. Touching the liquid evokes the saddest memories of the past.

Regulus guessed that its magical properties were related to frozen memories, and that it was the ability to seal away a certain memory.

If it can be extracted, it might be used to seal away painful memories, or conversely, to plunge someone into an inescapable sadness.

Silent moss covers the stone tablets of ancient ruins; anyone who touches it will temporarily lose the ability to speak, and will be unable to cast a silent spell.

Regulus believed that its magical properties were related to language, and even directly rendered the act of casting a spell ineffective.

If we can extract it, we might be able to develop methods that prevent opponents from casting spells.

The Shadowgrass glows only in absolute darkness; the dimmer the light, the brighter it shines. But it will immediately go out if there is even a slight other light source.

Regulus thought that this must be a magical tendency that is sensitive to light or exclusive, and it only wants to exist in a pure environment and cannot tolerate any interference.

If it could be extracted, it might be used to create detection magic, or conversely, to create darkness that could block all light sources.

Regulus memorized the names of these plants and his guesses.

If we had the chance to get our hands on the actual object, we could use our magical perception and natural magic to verify it, but for now, we can only leave it for later.

He continued flipping through the pages, searching for more potential targets.

As the sunlight slowly slanted westward, the light trails on the table shifted, moving from the corner to the center, and then to the other side.

Footsteps approached, and Regulus looked up.

Lily stood across the table, holding several books in her arms.

Regulus looked up and nodded at her: "Lily."

Lily sat down opposite him and placed the book on the table: "Regus."

Then neither of them spoke again, and they each opened their books.

The library was quiet, with only the occasional sound of turning pages, footsteps, and Mrs. Pince's cough coming from a distance.

The sunlight outside the window grew increasingly oblique, eventually turning orange-red as it shone in, casting a warm glow on the tabletop.

Lily closed her book, and Regulus closed his as well. They both looked up at the same time, their eyes meeting.

Lily laughed first: "You've become quite famous lately."

Regulus's gaze was gentle, and he remained silent.

Lily blinked. "You really did what they said, that you made a first-year student cast the complete Ironclad Charm?"

Regulus hummed in agreement: "If you have to put it that way, yes."

He continued, "But you've probably heard that it's just a shortcut, a way to get a taste of things beforehand, not a real church service."

Lily had heard about it, of course.

The professors practically grabbed the young wizards by the ears and told them, "Don't even think about trying this method."

But these past few days, her roommate Marcia Foley has been constantly talking in her ear about how amazing Regulus is, saying that her father said it was something that a little wizard could not possibly do.

Marcia's eyes were shining when she said this.

Lily didn't really understand.

She couldn't fully cast the Ironclad Spell either; in fact, she could hardly cast it at all.

At most, a wisp of silver light emanated from the tip of her wand, a thin layer that didn't even qualify as a formed barrier.

She asked the older students, those who could cast the full Ironclad Spell, and they said that being older was enough.

When the magic power is stronger, when the body is more developed, and when the will is more resolute, it will naturally be able to be used.

Some people say it's about having the belief to refuse harm, about really wanting to protect something, and ideally, about protecting yourself.

Lily analyzed that she might indeed be lacking this.

Although her family wasn't wealthy, her parents loved her, and her sister... her sister loved her too.

During my two years at Hogwarts, although there were occasional unpleasant incidents, I didn't suffer any real harm.

She couldn't imagine that feeling.

Lily looked at Regulus and asked curiously, "I heard Professor McGonagall say that method doesn't seem suitable for young wizards?"

Regulus said, "Yes, at least not for young wizards who don't have skilled wizards in their families."

Lily fell silent. She understood; Regulus was talking about resources.

If you have a skilled shaman in your family, you can do this; if you don't, you'll just have to endure it slowly on your own.

Her family didn't have any skilled wizards, and she was the only wizard there; that's the difference in their backgrounds.

She remembered her parents' last letter, which was full of concern, asking if she needed anything, if she had enough money, and if she was eating well at school.

Lily was quite happy when she saw it, but now, listening to what Regulus was saying, she suddenly felt a little uneasy.

Is the difference in background really that big?

She didn't say it aloud, but Regulus could tell.

He could sense Lily's magical energy fluctuations; her tone had noticeably lowered after his earlier statement.

He didn't rush to offer sweet words to comfort her; these things are objective realities, the reality that Muggle-born people have to face.

He had talked to Lily before about how birth is important, but talent is equally important. Pure-blood families can produce incredibly useless individuals, while Muggle-born individuals can become powerful wizards.

But there's no need to repeat those words; ultimately, you have to figure them out for yourself.

Regulus didn't disturb Lily; he simply sat there, watching her with a gentle expression.

It took Lily quite a while to raise her head again.

She looked at Regulus, at his expression—gentle, tolerant, like looking at a child who needed care.

Lily glared at him, annoyed. "Why aren't you comforting me?"

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

Lily continued, "You know perfectly well that there are no other wizards in my family, and you know what I'll think when you say that, so why don't you comfort me?"

Her tone was slightly complaining, but her voice was soft.

Regulus's lips curved into a smile: "Because I know you are a strong witch."

Lily was taken aback.

Regulus continued, "You won't be defeated by these things. You'll figure it out yourself and keep moving forward."

Lily stared at him for a long time, then she laughed at herself, as if she had remembered something funny: "You did that again."

Regulus didn't know what she meant, but he didn't intend to argue.

He simply nodded, his expression unchanged: "Yes, I did it again."

Lily looked at him without saying a word, but her eyes seemed to say, "Tell me, what have you done this time?"

Regulus coughed lightly: "Lily, would you like to experience what the Ironclad Charm feels like?"

Lily's attention was indeed diverted; she frowned and said, "Didn't you say that little wizards aren't suitable?"

Regulus smiled. "But as I just said, if there is a sufficiently skilled wizard, then it is possible."

Lily lowered her head, seemingly lost in thought. After a while, she looked up and said, "Come on, here?"

Regulus said, "This will do."

Lily looked around and lowered her voice, "Do you need a wand? I mean, Mrs. Pince doesn't allow wands in the library."

Regulus shook his head: "No need, I'm just showing you around."

He gestured for Lily to move forward a little.

Lily leaned forward, closing the distance between them.

Regulus reached out, his fingertips hovering about two inches from her brow.

A wisp of silver light emanated from his fingertips, soft and not dazzling, like a small ball of moonlight.

It drifted towards Lily's brow, and the moment it touched her skin, it dispersed and merged.

Lily's eyes widened, her body stiffened for a moment, and then relaxed.

Two seconds later, Regulus withdrew his finger, and the silver light dissipated.

Lily remained in the same position, motionless, her eyes open, but her focus was elsewhere.

A few seconds later, she blinked and focused her gaze again.

She looked at Regulus, her eyes widening in surprise and disbelief.

Regulus said, "Remember this feeling, try it again when you get back to your dorm, practice a few more times."

He added, "But remember, you have to have your own. This feeling just lets you know in advance what the Ironclad Charm is like. The real Ironclad Charm has to be your own."

Lily nodded several times, then asked somewhat cautiously, "Regrus, is it a secret?"

A hint of satisfaction flashed in Regulus's eyes, but Lily, unusually, didn't glare at him.

“If she’s a friend you trust, you can tell her,” Regulus said. “After all, there has to be a source, doesn’t there?”

“If she’s a friend you trust, you can tell her,” Regulus said. “After all, there has to be a source, doesn’t there?”

Lily thought for a moment, then smiled and said, "I understand."

She began tidying up the books on the table, and Regulus did the same, and the two walked out together.

Stepping out of the library, the corridor dimmed, torches were lit, and a dim yellow glow flickered on the stone walls.

Lily suddenly said, "Thank you, Regulus."

Regulus shook his head: "No need to thank me between friends."

Lily muttered softly, "You're the one who's helping me."

Regulus turned to look at her, and Lily smiled.

"goodbye!"

After saying that, she hugged the book and ran off with light steps, her braids swinging behind her.

Regulus stood there, watching her figure disappear around the corner of the corridor.

Then he turned around and walked in another direction.