Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

The latest chapter has ignited the plot! Stay tuned for more updates.

The weather was unusually good on the second Wednesday of November.

But Snape was in a bad mood, for no specific reason. If you had to say, the good weather was one of them; the good weather made everything else look glaringly bad.

When the bell rang, he came out of the Potions classroom and headed towards his dormitory.

The corridor was crowded. The younger students ran by, their footsteps echoing on the stone walls, while the older students walked slowly in twos and threes, chatting and laughing.

Snape kept his head down and walked quickly; he didn't want to talk to or see anyone.

When we reached the corner on the third floor, the people in front of us slowed down and walked around us.

Snape looked up and saw James Potter.

James stood in the middle of the corridor, twirling his wand in his hand, while Sirius leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed.

Lupin and Peter stood a few steps apart; Lupin frowned, and Peter hunched his shoulders.

Snape paused for a moment, then continued walking.

"Snape—"

James's voice came from behind, drawn out and excited, as if he had found something fun.

After he finished shouting, he turned back and winked at Sirius, who grinned, looking like he was watching a show.

Snape pretended not to hear and continued walking without stopping.

James turned around, took a step forward, and deliberately raised his voice: "Where did you find that robe? In a trash can in Spider's End?"

Snape stopped, without turning around, his back to James, but his wand was already in his hand.

"Did your mom alter it for you?" James took another step forward, twirling his wand in his hand. "It fits pretty well, just the fabric is a bit cheap."

Snape's voice sounded like it was being squeezed out between clenched teeth: "Get out of the way."

James scoffed. "Otherwise?"

Without hesitation, Snape turned swiftly, raising his wand as the spell shot from its tip: "Stumble!"

James dodged to the side, the spell grazing his shoulder and bouncing off the wall.

"You've made your move?" He pointed his wand forward, grinned, and flicked it out.

Snape dodged to the side, his Ironclad Charm deflecting the second one, and his wand swung back, unleashing a Barrier Charm at James's feet.

James jumped to dodge, but stumbled when he landed.

Lupin stood still, neither helping nor stopping, just frowning as he watched. Peter shrank behind Lupin, not even taking out his wand.

Sirius leaned against the wall, still in that lazy posture, but his eyes were fixed on Snape's wand.

Snape cast another spell, which struck James in the shoulder.

James was jolted back two steps, bumping into the wall. Once he regained his balance, he shook his shoulders and laughed even harder.

"That's it?" He pointed his wand at Snape, raised his chin, and smirked to one side.

Snape didn't speak, his eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, and he raised his wand again.

Sirius straightened up from the wall, pulled his wand from his pocket, and flicked out a spell.

A silent, gray spell, very fast, struck from the side.

Snape was facing James and didn't have time to turn around before the spell struck Snape's side.

He didn't fall, but his body swayed, and half of the magic barrier shattered.

He stepped back, his eyes hardening, and pointed his wand at Sirius Black, sending a beam of red light flying swiftly and rapidly.

But Sirius was still not fast enough. He turned his head away, his face still bearing that relaxed, lazy smile.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, James cast two more spells.

One arrow struck Snape in the chest, another grazed his arm, tearing a hole in Snape's robe and revealing skin that immediately turned red.

He gritted his teeth and cast another spell, which struck James's leg. James knelt on one knee for a moment, then immediately stood up.

Snape was cornered against the wall, his back against the stone, wand raised, his arm beginning to tremble.

Sirius cast another spell, which hit Snape at his feet. Snape jumped to the side, and James's spell hit him right on the back.

He fell forward, his face hitting the ground.

James put away his wand and chuckled, "Can't get up?"

Snape tried to get up by pushing himself up, but his arms were shaking so badly that he could only manage a couple of pushes before falling back down.

Lily ran over from the other end of the corridor.

She saw Snape lying face down on the ground, his robes covered in dust, his face down, his hands supporting him on the ground.

She knelt down to help him up: "Severus—"

Snape looked up.

That face was ashen, almost black, with a kind of dirt seeping from beneath the skin, as if it had been dyed by something. From the forehead to the chin, the whole face was dark and gloomy.

Lily's voice suddenly rose: "Your face—"

Snape didn't let her finish. His face was so dark that no expression could be seen. He got up from the ground, shook off her hand, and staggered to the other end of the corridor.

Lily stood up, turned to face James, her face flushed, her voice sharp with anger: "You—"

"He struck first." James put his wand back in his robe pocket, looking completely unconcerned.

Lily stared at him, her chest heaving: "The two of you are fighting one."

Sirius patted his sleeves and said in a nonchalant tone, "It's not the first time."

Lily turned her head and glared at him, her breathing becoming rapid. She wanted to say something, but swallowed the words back.

There's no point in talking to this kind of person.

Lupin walked over, patted James on the shoulder, and whispered, "Let's go."

James glanced at Lily, said nothing more, shrugged, turned and walked away, Sirius followed behind, and Peter hunched over as they went.

Lily stood there, looking in the direction Snape had disappeared. After a while, she lowered her head, turned around, and walked in another direction.

......

Snape pushed open the dormitory door. No one was inside. The fireplace was burning, but the fire was small, and the light flickered on the wall, casting a long shadow of him.

Snape stood in front of the mirror.

The face in the mirror was a dark, ashen gray, the color deepening layer by layer down the forehead, cheekbones, and chin. (You have received a new chapter update: Chapter 247 Snape, Why Are You So Dark (Seeking Monthly Tickets)). The reading link leads further down the neck.

He reached up and rubbed his face, but couldn't get rid of it. He rubbed his fingertip against it, and the gray underneath was still there, as if it were growing into his flesh.

He stared at the mirror for two seconds, then raised his wand: "Restored to its original state."

Nothing has changed.

"Curse Stops Instantly"

Nothing has changed.

"Completely cleaned up."

That face was still gray, a gray so dark it looked black.

He put down his wand, stood there, and pressed his finger heavily on the mirror, leaving a small patch of mist.

He could recognize all of Potter's spells: grinning, standing still, locking the throat—these were all things from textbooks and shouldn't have this effect.

The problem lies with Blake's silent spell; he doesn't know what it is.

He stared at his gray face in the mirror, going over the spell in his mind again and again, but he couldn't come up with anything.

It's also possible that several spells were mixed together, causing some strange reaction.

He gritted his teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists repeatedly, the sound squeezed out from his throat.

"Damn Potter!"

"Damn Blake!"

He stared at his gray face in the mirror, his chest heaving violently. He wanted to curse again, but his mind was blank, and he couldn't utter a single word.

He thought for a long time, and then remembered skin whitening medicine.

That stuff isn't hard to make; it's in the ingredients cabinet. He doesn't usually need it, but he knows the recipe.

He turned around and rummaged through the cabinet, laying out the materials one by one.

His hands were still shaking when he was cutting the daisy roots, and the knife went astray twice. He gritted his teeth, slowed down, and cut them one by one.

After cutting the ingredients, I put them into the crucible, stirred it three times clockwise and two times counterclockwise, and then turned down the flame.

The firelight shone from the side, casting his face in half-light and half-shadow.

He stared at the bubbles rising in the crucible, his mind completely blank.

Snape did not go to the Great Hall at dinner time.

When the dormitory door was pushed open, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a mirror in his hand.

Labastan Lestrange walked in without knocking.

He stood at the doorway and glanced around inside. When he saw Snape, the corner of his mouth twitched down, as if he had spotted something unclean.

Snape placed the mirror face down on the bedside table, his brow furrowed as he looked at it without saying a word.

Without waiting for his reply, Rabastan walked in, sat down in the chair opposite him, stretched out his legs, leaned back, and rested his hands on the armrests.

"I need to talk to you about something."

Snape looked at him, his face expressionless.

Labastan stared at him for a couple of seconds, then smiled, but it wasn't a very nice smile: "What happened to your face?"

Snape's face darkened, but he remained silent.

Labastan didn't seem to care. He leaned back in his chair, chin raised, and asked, "You know Lena Costa and Samuel Vance?"

Snape's eyebrows twitched.

"You must know those two mixed-race people," Labastan said with an air of self-righteous contempt. "Ha."

Snape clenched his fists, which were hidden in his sleeves.

"Go ask Blake why he's protecting them, whether he's arranged something for them."

After finishing speaking, Rabastan added, his tone as direct as an order: "Find out the details and come back to me."

Snape remained silent and did not nod. He just sat there, his face obscured by the dim light of the fireplace, but his complexion was darker than his skin.

Labastan stood up, looked down at him, and smirked: "You're both mixed-race, you should be able to talk to each other."

He brushed off non-existent dust from his robe, walked towards the door, paused at the door, and turned back: "Don't let Blake know that I sent you."

The door closed, and the footsteps faded into the distance.

Snape sat on the edge of the bed, his hands on his knees, staring at the opposite wall, motionless.

The fire in the fireplace flickered, and the shadow swayed on the wall.

He picked up the small round mirror and looked at his face.

It's grayish-black, unchanged, and even looks a bit darker than before.

He walked to the crucible, where the whitening medicine had already been brewed.

He took out a little bit, brought it to his nose to smell, then took out a large handful, smeared it vigorously on his face, and started rubbing it in.

He didn't stop until his face was red and covered in smears, then he picked up a mirror.

My face in the mirror is white, but it looks even stranger than before. It's too white, unnaturally white.

He stared intently at his face in the mirror for a long time, then put the mirror back up.

He pulled a hooded robe out of the closet, put it on, and pulled the hood up to cover half his face.

Then he stood up, pushed open the door, and went out.

There weren't many people in the corridor at this time; most of them were eating in the auditorium.

Snape walked toward the library, head down, his steps light, as if afraid of being seen or heard.

His footsteps echoed softly on the stone wall, so loud that even he found it noisy and he made his steps even lighter.

He stopped at the corner of the corridor and didn't go any further.

That spot offers a view of the library entrance, and most importantly, it's dimly lit; from a brighter location, you can't see anything clearly.

He leaned against the wall, his hood pressing down on his forehead, and waited for about half an hour before finally seeing another, less damned Blake walking towards him from the direction of the auditorium.

Snape stepped out of the shadows: "Black."

His voice was flat, but if you listened carefully, you could tell that it wasn't actually that flat.

Regulus stopped and turned to look at him, his voice even more subdued: "Snape."

Then Regulus glanced at his face again.

He could tell something was wrong at a glance.

Regulus frowned and took a step back, as if he had seen something he didn't want to see.

His tone carried an undisguised disdain: "Snape, why are you so dark?"