Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Another full moon night.

Regulus stood atop the Astronomical Tower, the early morning wind blowing in from above, making his robes flutter loudly.

A month and a half into the new semester, he finally realized one thing: the idea of ​​integrating the Guardian Image into spatial magic at Hogwarts was impossible.

I've tried it countless times in the house and it always grants my requests.

He extracted the imagery of guardianship from the spiritual world and tried to integrate it into the space.

But the space ignored him, as if it couldn't sense his intentions at all.

He tried another approach: if integration didn't work, he would try infiltration, slowly penetrating, little by little, like water droplets seeping into a stone.

Or not.

It is theoretically feasible.

The protective image can be integrated into the spell and combined with the spell, so why can't the space?

Protection is a boundary, and so is space.

The logic is sound to incorporate the imagery of protection into a space, making that space an extension of protection.

But the room of Requirement doesn't respond; it doesn't refuse, it just doesn't react.

Regulus thought about it for a long time.

The Room of Requirement was left behind by Lady Ravenclaw. Wizards of that level leave behind things that are not simple, and this makes perfect sense.

Perhaps that space itself possesses a will, but he simply cannot perceive it.

If one place doesn't work out, try interviewing elsewhere.

He tried many times in the Astronomy Tower, in the night breeze of Hogwarts.

The result was the same; the space at Hogwarts did not respond.

He still didn't refuse, but this time Regulus sensed something subtle, like talking to thin air, and the air wouldn't answer.

But this air belongs to someone else.

Regulus didn't try again; this path was blocked, at least not here.

Maybe I can find out in other places later, but not in Hogwarts.

He set several goals for himself this semester, with spatial magic being a key focus.

Spatial warp, spatial anchor points, spell warp, spatial deformation, and spatial networks are all progressing steadily.

Combining protection with space is one branch, turning space itself into a means of protection.

Construct an absolute barrier with space, so that attacks can't touch you at all, because they can't reach you.

Use spatial folding to hide yourself or a spell, as if folding into another dimension.

By using spatial anchoring, one can fix oneself in a certain position, making oneself unshakable by any attack.

Drawing inspiration from the guardian deity's talents, we should attempt to establish a cooperative relationship with the space, rather than simply dominating it.

These ideas represent an exploration of spatial magic from technical manipulation to conceptual integration.

But now we're stuck on the first step; Hogwarts isn't cooperating.

Actually, it doesn't matter if you get stuck; going around it is perfectly feasible and won't affect progress in other directions.

However, this part was missing from the original plan, making it incomplete.

If something is missing, just make up for it. It doesn't necessarily have to be spatial magic; other methods will do. The point is, don't let your hands be empty.

Regulus looked at the sky.

The moon was round and bright, hanging on the velvety night sky, making a small patch of sky around it appear white.

He stared at it for a long time, not thinking about anything, just watching.

Several figures appeared on the castle lawn below.

Regulus glanced down and saw that James, Sirius, and Peter had run out again.

He looked away and ignored them.

Looking at the moon, a thought suddenly popped into my head.

light.

During his Defense Against the Dark Arts class last semester, he thought about something: light magic.

Now, standing atop the astronomical tower, with moonlight shining on me, this thought has resurfaced.

What is light?

Physically speaking, light is an electromagnetic wave, which has wavelength, frequency, and speed.

The length of the wavelength determines the color, and the frequency determines the energy.

Can magic manipulate light?

The glowing effect of the Glowing Spell is merely creating a ball of light, simply illuminating the area; what he truly desires is control.

Inspiration exploded in my mind like fireworks, one after another.

Slowing down light: critical light.

Light travels slower in a medium, but regains its speed when it enters a vacuum.

If light is allowed to hesitate at the boundary of a medium, its speed will remain below normal.

When the spell is shot at, it is enveloped by this critical light, and its speed drops sharply, making it easy to dodge.

Let the light entwine and entangle with the light.

Once two photons become entangled, their states become bound together.

By maintaining this bond between the spell and one's own magic, wherever the spell flies, the spell will follow the movement of the magic.

If the shot misses, a quick change of mind brings it back to its original direction.

Compress the light, compress the light.

The shorter the wavelength of a photon, the higher its energy.

Suppress the wavelength of visible light to ultraviolet light, which is invisible but can burn through the skin; suppress X-rays to penetrate walls.

When gamma rays hit the target, the atom loses its electrons.

Let the light interfere, phase light.

Waves have crests and troughs. When two beams of light meet, if the crests and troughs align, the light is bright; if they are misaligned, the light is dim.

Put yourself in a state of interference cancellation, light bypasses your body, and you can't see anything. Release the cancellation, and you suddenly appear.

Let light fuse, and fuse light.

By making light itself the energy source, atomic nuclei fuse under extreme high temperature and pressure, releasing light that carries destructive power.

The matter disappears instantly where it is hit.

Regulus stood atop the tower, gazing at the moon, his mind filled with light.

But that's too far off; each of these things requires a very deep understanding of the nature of light.

He can't even sense the magic of light now, let alone control it.

Perhaps we'll have to wait for Rigel to light up, or perhaps we'll have to wait for Rigel to light up.

Only when we can see what light looks like, when we can see photons, can we start thinking about how to touch it.

He shook his head, putting those thoughts aside for the time being, and glanced at the lawn again.

Those figures were still there, sneaking around towards the direction of the "beating willow".

Regulus watched for a while, then looked away.

I waited a month, but that sudden urge didn't come again. Maybe it was just a coincidence last time, and it doesn't prove anything.

Perfect timing, I don't want to practice magic tonight, let's go to the Forbidden Forest.

He stepped down from the tower, the wind rushed in, his robes billowed up, and he cast a flight spell, swaying and flying towards the Forbidden Forest.

Regulus landed not far into the Forbidden Forest.

It was quiet all around, and moonlight filtered through the gaps in the tree canopy, cutting out patches of light and shadow on the ground.

A group of Thestrals stood in an open space not far away.

A few that were close by stared at him for a while; their eyes were pale and empty, without pupils.

Regulus stood there, watching them too.

Thestrals can traverse storms, break through magical barriers, and are said to be able to briefly travel through space.

He wanted to experience it, not for research purposes, but just to ride it and fly around.

He took a few steps closer. The Thestrals neither flinched nor came forward. One of them raised its head and glanced at him again.

Regulus stopped beside it, wondering how to communicate.

he does not know.

But he knew that Thestrals could see death, and only those who had seen death could see it.

Perhaps this is the foundation of communication.

He reached out and placed his hand on Thestral's back. Thestral did not flinch and let him touch it.

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Regulus released his magic as a greeting, letting it circulate around the Thestrals without any ulterior motive.

The Night Styx raised its head and glanced at him again.

Then its front legs bend down, and its hind legs bend down as well, and its whole body sinks down, like a horse when someone is riding it.

Regulus paused for a moment, then without hesitation, flipped over and sat down.

The next second, it exerted force with all four legs, leaned forward, and suddenly spread its wings.

take off.

Regulus gripped its back tightly, the wind rushing into his ears, the shadows of the trees receding, and the ground growing ever farther away.

The Thestral pierced through the treetops and soared into the night sky, its speed increasing rapidly.

It's fast, too fast, much faster than a flying spell, much faster than a broom.

Regulus felt the wind slicing across his face like knives. He wanted to cast an armor spell, but he couldn't bear to miss the feeling.

The Thestral continued flying.

Flying over the Forbidden Forest, over the Black Lake, over the castle, moonlight shone down from above, and the entire Hogwarts unfolded beneath our feet.

Then Thestrals began to traverse space.

One step and the world changes; one moment you're above a castle, the next you're above an unfamiliar forest.

Then, they moved to another location.

After several attempts to navigate, they became completely disoriented.

Regulus sensed a strange power, and the space itself seemed to be moving.

Each time a Thestral flaps its wings, space automatically recedes, and as space recedes, the Thestral moves forward.

This is how Thestrals travel.

Before he could fully experience it, the Thestral suddenly plunged down and landed in a completely unfamiliar forest. It was pitch black all around, and he couldn't see anything familiar.

The Thestral landed, shook, and Regulus was thrown off, staggering a couple of steps to regain his footing.

The Thestral glanced at him, let out a low, hoarse cry, flapped its wings, and flew away, disappearing into the night sky.

Regulus stood there, somewhat speechless.

They just left him here?

Is the communication method wrong?

He looked around, unsure of where he was. The trees were tall and their branches and leaves were dense, preventing the moonlight from getting in.

He figured it was somewhere deep in the forbidden forest, but he couldn't pinpoint its exact location.

The Thestral had just traversed space several times, and its orientation was already completely lost.

Regulus cast a flight spell, floated up, soared over the treetops, and looked around.

There was a faint light in the distant sky, which should be in the direction of the castle, but it was too far away, so far that he had to squint to confirm its location.

He landed back on the ground and was about to Apparate when a thought suddenly popped into his head.

He wanted to experience that speed and that feeling of freedom again when the Thestral flew.

But the Flying Charm was too slow, the broom wasn't with him, and as for Voldemort's unmanned flight, he had absolutely no idea how to do it.

However, physics can do what magic cannot, and in some aspects, physics is even better at it.

Speed, height, endurance—it can achieve the ultimate in physics, only lacking in agility, but that's in comparison to a broom and Voldemort.

Regulus stood still, beginning to conceive.

First, a shell is needed, which the Ironclad Charm can do, shaping it into the required form and transforming it from a circular barrier into a three-dimensional structure.

Control is provided by magical perception and magical manipulation, but some auxiliary elements are also needed.

The shock-absorbing and speed-stopping spell counteracts the impact of high speed, allowing the body to withstand high acceleration.

The Silent Incantation eliminates the sound of air friction, preventing any movement from revealing oneself.

Regulus began to operate.

He first cast the Ironclad Spell, and the magic spread evenly from his body. As he continued to inject magic and shape it, its form began to change.

The front end of the barrier is elongated and pointed to form a streamlined, sharp head that conforms to physical intuition.

The barriers on both sides extend outward, thinning and stretching into a pair of short wings with subtle curves.

The rear barrier contracts inward, creating a gradually narrowing, slightly open, trumpet-shaped nozzle.

He didn't use any specific model as a reference; he simply used basic aerodynamic principles to make the shape minimize drag.

The pointed nose cuts through the wind, the fuselage is smooth, and the tail opens up to make room for the next power.

Then came the power source. With a thought, a wisp of orange-red flame silently ignited at the nozzle.

This wisp of fierce fire was firmly restrained by his will, its temperature controlled within a safe range, and its form stable.

The flames burned steadily inside, expanding, and high-temperature airflow gushed out from the end of the nozzle.

A force was generated, transmitted through the magical connection to the entire outer shell, and then to Regulus inside.

But that's not enough; the thrust is too dispersed.

He adjusted the magical structure inside the nozzle, making the burning of the Fiendfire more concentrated and the jet more focused.

The thrust increased significantly, but the direction still fluctuated slightly.

He then used magic to create two finely adjustable auxiliary nozzles at the tips of the wings for balance and steering.

Then, he cast a support spell on himself.

With everything ready, Regulus flew to a high place and lit the fire.

The main nozzle and two auxiliary nozzles simultaneously unleash their flames, generating thrust that propels him and his entire outer shell forward.

It started at a gentle pace, as if being pulled by a mild force.

He steadily increased the input of magic, causing the Fiendfire to burn more fiercely and the jets to become more powerful.

The thrust continues to increase, and then increases even more.

Suddenly, a violent thrust erupted from behind, propelling him and his entire outer shell outwards.

The speed soared to an incredible level in an instant, and the air in front crashed into it like a wall, forcibly torn apart by the sharp head, producing a deep roar that was still weakened by the silencing spell.

The shock-absorbing spell desperately resisted the force that was trying to push his internal organs against his back.

Regulus gritted his teeth, steadied himself, and continued to increase his magical output.

The trees in the forbidden forest on both sides turned into gray-green shadows, a blurry, elongated mass, making it impossible to discern any details.

He abandoned his vision and focused all his attention on magical perception, scanning ahead like a radar while manipulating magic to adjust his direction.

The speed was still climbing, 1,000 kilometers per hour, 1,100, 1,200...

The outer shell of the Ironclad Curse began to vibrate at a high frequency, rubbing against the ultra-high-speed airflow and producing a tearing hiss, with ripples even appearing on its surface.

Regulus knew he was nearing his limit, close to the speed of sound; any further acceleration might cause the Ironclad Charm to disintegrate due to structural overload.

He stabilized his magic output, maintaining the current speed.

He sped through the pitch-black Forbidden Forest, the shadows of startled nocturnal animals flashing past the edge of his senses.

The feeling was strange and pure.

So fast that all details are lost, the world is reduced to direction, speed, and obstacles to be avoided.

A few minutes later, the outline of the castle appeared.

He adjusted his direction, heading towards the clearing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and began to gradually reduce his magic power. The Fiery Flame weakened, and his speed slowly decreased.

Then decelerate again, changing from level flight to a slow descent.

Upon landing, the outer shell touched the ground, bounced slightly, and then dissipated into silver specks.

Regulus took a few steps forward to steady himself.

He was panting heavily, and his whole body ached.

Muscles trembled, bones groaned, internal organs seemed to shift, and sweat soaked hair.

But when he looked up, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn upwards.

He slowly straightened up, stretched his neck and shoulders, and walked step by step toward the direction of the castle lights.

That thing was too fast, with a primal, violent, almost manic sense of propulsion.

But it feels really good.

It can be even faster.