Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Nico stood up, his movements still trembling.

"It's getting late," Nicole said, glancing at Regulus with a gentle look in her eyes. "The child should go home."

Regulus paused for a moment, thinking he would be staying here tonight.

There are still so many questions I want to ask: the details of magic conversion, the intersection of alchemy and transmutation, the limits of life alchemy, and whether it is possible to create a soul.

But now that Nico has said that, he can't do anything about it; he can't just stay put and refuse to leave.

Moreover, based on this meeting, Nicole should have a good impression of him.

There will always be other opportunities in the future.

Nicole's tone was even gentler than before: "Next time you come, you don't need to wait for Albus to bring you, just come by yourself."

He turned and walked to the large desk, picking up a palm-sized metal ball from a pile of things.

It was silver-gray, with densely engraved runes on its surface; in the firelight of the fireplace, the runes seemed to be dancing.

He walked back and handed the ball to Regulus: "Here, just spin it whenever you want to come back."

Regulus accepted it with both hands.

The metal ball feels slightly warm to the touch, as if it has its own temperature.

He glanced at it and realized that it wasn't a door key, but more like a location tracking device or an invitation.

He bowed slightly: "I will, Mr. Lemaître."

Nico waved his hand: "Alright, go ahead, Albus, take him with you."

Dumbledore stood up with a smile: "Alright."

The two walked out together, and when they reached the door, Regulus looked back.

Nico stood by the fireplace, the firelight casting a long shadow on the wall.

The alchemical instruments were still running on their own, ticking away, as if bidding him farewell.

The door closed behind me.

When I stepped out of that unassuming little building, it was already dark outside.

The streets of Paris are lit up with warm, yellow lights that are not glaring, shining through the windows and spilling onto the cobblestones.

A horse-drawn carriage passed by in the distance, its hooves clattering clearly against the dim street light.

Occasionally a car would drive by, its engine whirring, and it would quickly disappear around the street corner.

The air was filled with the aroma of roasted chestnuts, wafting from some shop I couldn't tell.

Regulus and Dumbledore walked side by side, neither of them speaking.

He was thinking of Nico.

A wizard over six hundred years old—how many things must he have experienced? How many people must he have met? How much magic must he have mastered?

Regulus didn't think he could change anything with just a few words.

Wizards of Nicolas Flamel's caliber have long since become one with magic in terms of their mind, spirit, and will.

Without Dumbledore's introduction, he might have just been an ordinary junior wizard to Nico.

Those words about stars, those daydreams unrelated to magic, would probably sound like childish ramblings to others.

A twelve-year-old child, by saying a few words about what's in the sky, could change the mind of an alchemist who has lived for six hundred years, making him not want to live anymore?

impossible.

Even ordinary adults wouldn't be swayed by a child's words, let alone Nicolas Flamel.

Regulus thought to himself, and muttered a complaint in his mind.

Dumbledore was adept at using little boys to deal with old men.

The original plan was to use Harry Potter to deal with Slughorn and extract information about Horcruxes from the old man.

Now they're using him against Nicolas Flamel, hoping to rekindle their old friend's desire to live.

Regulus glanced at Dumbledore.

The old man was walking with his hands behind his back. His moon-white robe was somewhat conspicuous in the night, but the Muggles around him couldn't see him at all.

He didn't know if it ignited or not; he just went along with the act.

The two continued walking.

The streetlights passed by one by one, stretching and shortening their shadows.

Regulus suddenly asked, "Professor, you didn't bring me here today just to broaden my horizons, did you?"

Dumbledore turned to look at him, a smile in his eyes: "Why do you ask that?"

Regulus said, "It's just a feeling, Mr. Lemaître... seems a bit down."

Dumbledore didn't say anything, and the two walked for a while longer.

Then, with a touch of emotion in his voice, he said, "Nicole is my friend, a friend of many years."

Regulus listened quietly.

"He has lived too long, so long that he feels he has seen everything he should see and experienced everything he should experience. This kind of thought is more terrifying than any curse."

Dumbledore paused, then said, "I never encourage anyone to live. Death is just another great adventure."

He turned his head to look at Regulus, a smile in his eyes: "But if he himself still wants to live, then I'll be very happy."

Regulus nodded in agreement. Yes, death is an adventure.

Dumbledore smiled and said, "What you said today, about the stars, about wanting to see what's there, are wonderful ideas."

Regulus casually replied, "It's just that the more you see, the more you can't help but overthink."

Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder and said nothing more.

Regulus said that, but he was thinking something else.

There's another layer of consideration behind talking about the heavens and the starry sky.

Use a sufficiently grand ideal to dilute the opposition between opposing camps.

My gaze is not on the ground, but on the heights.

Regardless of whether it's true or false, or whether it's possible or not, that's just how I think.

This is tantamount to telling Dumbledore that I am someone he can win over, that my focus is not on the struggle on the ground, and that I do not even have a left or right stance.

And what I said before, "Just don't get beaten to death," that was also a statement.

Don't get killed by someone.

Why would someone be beaten to death?

Given the current situation, it's either Voldemort's side or Dumbledore's side.

Dumbledore must have thought of that too, but he just smiled and didn't ask anything.

Regulus knew Dumbledore's attitude towards him: give him time, provide guidance, and never pressure him.

At least not now, because there is still time, and it's not yet time to really make a choice.

And it must be said, his performance was quite impressive.

Regulus continued to think.

If he really had to choose sides, Dumbledore could certainly protect the Black family.

Find a small house, use the Faithful Charm to hide the address in his own soul, and Voldemort will never be able to find any Black.

But what's the cost?

Grimoire Square, the family business, everything accumulated over hundreds of years, just to survive?

And the Black family isn't even his Black family. (Cola Novels) Latest Update: Hogwarts: Regulus, Lord of the Stars

He was only a twelve-year-old heir, not the head of the family.

Those industries, those connections, those political resources, those wizards who depend on the Black family—they are not things he can simply give up.

Voldemort's side, and the pureblood faction's side, are not places he can simply back down from.

He could think of these things, but Dumbledore could think of them even better.

Therefore, Dumbledore did not pressure him, but only gave him time and guidance.

They never talk about these things, which is an unspoken understanding in itself.

Regulus thought this was good.

The two stood on the street corner for a while, and Dumbledore, looking at the lights in the distance, suddenly reached out his hand.

"The Patronus's movement is excellent," he said, "but it's getting late, so we'll head straight back to Hogwarts."

He looked at Regulus and winked: "When you get back, you can try to make it travel around the castle; it should work."

Regulus's heart skipped a beat. Was this an authorization granted to him, or was he certain that his guardian deity could do it?

Without thinking much about it, he figured he'd find out once he got back, and reached out to put his arm around Dumbledore's arm.

The next second, the streets of Paris disappeared, and the familiar Astronomical Tower appeared before me.

Regulus steadied himself and took a deep breath.

I didn't have any specific feeling, but I just felt like I was back inside the high walls.

Hogwarts and Dumbledore kept the outside world at bay.

The school was quiet; the worries about war, the fears about Voldemort, and the arguments about positions were all unheard of.

As for the commotion on campus, it was just a bit of noise to him.

I heard it, it's annoying, but I don't need to care.

This environment gives him the time to strengthen himself.

He needs this.

Dumbledore didn't rush to leave. He and Regulus looked up at the night sky together.

The night sky was clear, with countless stars scattered across it.

Cygnus spans the Milky Way, Aquila is to its south, and Altair faces Vega across the Milky Way.

Lyra is near the zenith, while Draco meanders in the low northern sky, with a string of stars forming an arc around its head.

Dumbledore looked at it for a while and said, "I used to look at the starry sky all the time. It's beautiful and vast."

Then he looked down at Regulus and said with a smile, "But I never intended to go up there."

Regulus replied, "The stars are beautiful; it's wonderful just to look at them."

Dumbledore smiled but said nothing.

After a while, he suddenly asked, "Magic and mass can be converted into each other, why did you ask that?"

Regulus's heart stirred.

Why ask?

Because he thought of something else.

If magic can be transformed into mass, then conversely, mass can also be transformed into magic.

What would happen if enough mass could be converted into magic in an instant?

Those qualities will disappear and become pure magic.

Then, if that magic power is released instantly in some way—

What kind of spell could it be?

He couldn't imagine it, but he knew it must be terrible.

Regulus thought for a moment and decided to say something romantic: "I just want magic to be more like magic."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, then laughed: "An interesting answer."

Regulus lowered his gaze and did not respond.

But in my heart I was thinking, "Once I figure it out, then you can tell me if it's interesting or not."

"Well then," Dumbledore said, turning his gaze away, "goodnight, Regulus."

The next second, he disappeared.

Regulus stood there for a while, looking at the stars in the sky.

Then he turned around and walked down the tower.

It was almost 10 o'clock when I got back to the dormitory.

Avery and Alex were both there, sitting at the table playing a game of splatter cards.

Hermes isn't here; at this hour, he's probably still working hard in the Room of Requirement.

Avery saw him come in and immediately sat up: "Regulus, where have you been during the day? I haven't seen you since I came up."

Regulus glanced at him.

Slytherin has eyes; someone is watching him. Even if he trusts his roommates, there's no need for him to tell everyone everything.

"library."

Avery paused for a moment: "The library? I... I..."

Regulus interrupted him, asking, "What did you do today?"

Avery was speechless, his gaze drifting elsewhere.

Alex also looked away, pretending to look at the cards in his hand.

Regulus ignored them, picked up his toiletries, and went into the washroom.

I was out all day today, not too tired, but I don't want to do anything else tonight.

After washing up, I came out and lay down on the bed.

Avery and Alex exchanged a glance and played less loudly, occasionally letting their cards explode, but doing so quietly.

Regulus closed his eyes and continued thinking about the day's events.

There were two major gains.

One is the confirmation of the conversion between magic and mass.

But this idea is too big, so we have to put it aside for now.

How to do it? By what method? How much magic power is needed? How to control it?

If it's actually made, who will use it?

It's all problems.

In theory, if the mass of a mass could be completely converted into magic, that power could overturn the entire Hogwarts.

But how do you do it?

The Disintegration Curse causes the whole to fail; it cannot cause mass to disappear.

To make quality disappear, we need to find a deeper underlying logic, perhaps the ultimate form of metamorphosis, perhaps another application of alchemy, or perhaps a combination of both.

I don't know, I'll think about it slowly.

Another takeaway is about the soul.

Seeing, anchoring, and feeding are actually three processes.

The soul cannot grow up by locking itself up and raising it; it needs to go out, experience, and interact with the world.

The experiences we have, the choices we make, and the influence we exert on the outside world—all of these nourish it.

This is the same thing as illuminating the direction of Betelgeuse.

That's pretty much how things will be from now on.

Go out and get things done.

After thinking for a long time, he drew the bed curtains and sank into the depths of his consciousness.

The star orbits were in motion, the six stars were in their respective positions, and the little soul figure stood where all the light converged, shining brightly.

It wasn't brighter than yesterday.

go to bed.