Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Cola Novels - Dedicated to providing the most comfortable reading experience.

The last Wednesday of November, breakfast time.

A cold wind was blowing through the Scottish Highlands, blocked out by the castle. The dome of the hall reflected the gloomy sky outside, thick with clouds, occasionally letting in a sliver of sunlight before it disappeared again.

The auditorium was warm and cozy, with long tables laden with food: bacon, baked eggs, toast, and hot oatmeal. Steam rose from the table, carrying the aroma of butter and jam.

The young wizards were chattering away; some Gryffindors were fighting over bacon across the table, Hufflepuffs were discussing Quidditch over the weekend, and Ravenclaws were whispering amongst themselves.

Flocks of owls flew in through the high window, their wings flapping rapidly, and letters and packages rained down like raindrops.

A greyish-brown eagle owl landed in front of Regulus.

Its paws gripped a folded piece of parchment, unsigned, unsealed with a tribal emblem, just a single sheet of paper, folded twice.

The eagle owl stretched out its claw and offered it to his hand.

Regulus took it and unfolded it.

Regulus:

Do you remember what I said to you during the holiday?

You didn't listen!

This is the second time; there won't be a third!

Bellatrix Lestrange

The handwriting was forceful, with the strokes pressed down, and the turns almost tearing the paper.

The last few words were written hastily, as if the writer could no longer contain his emotions and forced the pen to finish, leaving an indentation on the parchment.

Regulus placed the letter on the table and stared at it expressionlessly for a while.

He remembered receiving Bella's letter when he was in first grade.

At that time, he had just entered Hogwarts and his magical journey had not yet begun. What he had was quite meager.

Aside from the magic circulation and magic manipulation techniques I figured out on my own in my childhood, plus a few basic spells, there's not much else.

He certainly believed in his talent, and there was never any doubt about that.

Those basic spells that you can access are easy to learn; once you learn them, you'll master them—they're not difficult at all.

But at that time, he really didn't have anything to show for himself.

There was no Star Orbit Meditation, no Guardian Angel, no Disintegration Spell, no Fiendfire, no Spatial Magic, and no Light Source Magic.

All I can say is that they are weak.

He remembers the feeling when he received that letter: irritation and a bit of cold, oppressive feeling.

But it wasn't because of Bella; Bella herself never made him feel pressured.

Bella was powerful, possessing the Black family's talent and expertise in dark magic; she had probably already received instruction from Voldemort at that time.

But in Regulus's eyes, it was nothing special. He thought at the time that as long as he survived for a few years, killing Bella would be no problem at all.

Moreover, that was an idea from a year ago, and looking back now, it was still conservative.

But that letter wasn't just Bella's gaze; it also carried Voldemort's attention, and that attention itself carried weight.

Bella is Voldemort's mouthpiece; her letters are like threads passed from the other side. If you accept them, you have to move forward; if you don't, it's a matter of attitude.

Then, in the past year or so, Regulus has improved too quickly.

The guardian deity, Starry Sky Kite, could carry him through space, directly breaking through the multiple defenses of Black's old mansion, a fact that even Orion found astonishing.

The Disintegration Spell began by studying the magical structure of the mandrake, and after nine days and nights of deduction, a complete model was finally constructed in the mind.

The first form is a precise, lethal attack; the second form is an infrasonic range attack.

This is a spell he developed from scratch; something that didn't exist before, he created.

Fiend, who initially needed emotional anchoring to be summoned, is now tamed to the point that he is willing to listen to him.

Their shape and temperature are controllable, and they have even created aircraft that approach the speed of sound.

Spatial magic has evolved from the initial spatial warp, to spatial anchoring spells, to spell warp, and now to spatial networks and spatial distortion.

Natural magic found its way in the greenhouses of Cornwall.

The light source magic is still under development, but the underlying logic has been proven to be feasible.

His foundation, the star trail meditation, the five points of Alnista are lit, the six points of Alnista are dimly lit, and his soul can already see it.

Those ideas, one by one, become real power, held in our hands.

The path of magic has been confirmed, and he himself doesn't know how far he can go if he continues down it.

These things piled up together are no longer on the same level as the young wizard who had just entered Hogwarts a year ago.

But Bella didn't know any of that; she only knew about his behavior at school, what happened in the classroom, in the hallways, and in the common room.

She may have also factored in the power of the Dark Enlightenment, thinking that the gift had worked on him.

But that probably didn't matter to her. After all, in her eyes, a little wizard was still a little wizard, no matter what.

She was only twelve years old.

In fact, Regulus thought about it and realized that there was probably no one who knew all about him.

Dumbledore knew some of it: spatial magic, nature magic, Fiendfire, Patronus, and seeing souls.

But he probably didn't know about the Disintegration Charm or Light Magic; Regulus had never used those things at Hogwarts.

Orion knew about the other part, but those advancements after Betelgeuse was lit—the manifestation of souls, light magic, spatial networks—

None of these fathers knew.

No one knows his full strength. This person knows a part, that person knows a part, and even if they meet to compare their accounts, they still can't get the whole picture.

As Regulus thought of this, another figure suddenly popped into his mind: Grindelwald.

That old man, through planning and foresight, sent him into the slumbering abyss, allowing him to participate in the entire process of Betelgeuse lighting up. Freya was his person, and that maritime document was left behind by him.

He set up the whole stage from beginning to end, and he probably knows how far he has gone.

Regulus's lips twitched slightly as he banished the image from his mind.

Why think about him? It's bad luck.

He lowered his head and looked at the letter on the table.

Bella's letter came at just the right time, even more so than he had expected. If Bella couldn't see what he was doing, he would have to find a way to make her see it. Now that she had come to him of her own accord, it saved him a lot of trouble.

He stretched out his finger, intending to burn the parchment, then thought for a moment, looked up, and saw the grayish-brown eagle owl just flapping its wings and flying up from the edge of the table, not yet flying past the high window.

With a thought, his magic reached out and pulled the bird back.

The eagle owl somersaulted in the air, flapping its wings wildly and losing a few feathers. It was pulled back, letting out a panicked cry and scratching wildly in the air with its claws.

It staggered when it landed, its paws gripping the tablecloth, its eyes filled with obvious panic. It trembled twice, and three or four more feathers fell onto the table.

Regulus ignored it and reached for the fries on the plate in front of him.

When the finger touches it, the French fry deforms, stretches, narrows, and tapers to a point, becoming a quill pen.

He gripped the pen and dipped it into the ketchup on his plate. The moment the pen tip touched the ground, the ketchup changed shape, its color shifting from dark red to deep black, its consistency from thick to thin, eventually pooling into a small puddle of ink at the bottom of the plate.

Next to it was the same ketchup, red and black side by side with a clear boundary.

People around looked over, and several upperclassmen at the Slytherin table exchanged glances.

Regulus unfolded the paper and wrote his reply directly over Bella's handwriting, just one word.

"SO?"

The handwriting is flamboyant; the "S" is written very large, and the stroke ends with an upward flick, giving it a sharp edge.

He folded the letter and handed it to the eagle owl: "Go back to where you came from."

As he finished speaking, a wisp of natural magic seeped from his fingertips and gently adhered to the owl's feathers.

The eagle owl quieted down and stopped flapping its wings. The fear in its eyes subsided a little, but it still carried a hint of grievance.

It lowered its head, pecked Regulus's hand hard, then grabbed the letter, spread its wings, and flew away.

Avery sat close by and glanced at the contents of the letter.

Regulus wasn't carrying anyone, so he just glanced at it and saw those lines of text, including the "SO?".

He didn't make a sound, but looked over and asked what was wrong. Regulus shook his head slightly.

Avery shrugged, lowered his head, and continued eating. If Regulus didn't say anything, he wouldn't ask.

Regulus continued eating; everything was going according to plan.

But we need to pay more attention to Costa and Vance, and be clearer about our stance.

It's easy to talk about Hogwarts; he explicitly protects those he deems safe, so no one dares to touch them.

There might be some scheming and underhanded tactics, but as long as he pays more attention, there won't be any problems.

The key is outside of school; he doesn't doubt Bella's madness, just as he doesn't overestimate her strength.

He wanted those two to have a place in Slytherin, and even after they graduated, so he couldn't make them targets.

During the holidays, we can draw a line with Bella; no one can touch the people under her protection.

This sound can be amplified through Bella, thus making a public statement.

She can be used to showcase one's talents, to draw lines and make a statement, and to convey influence.

All I can say is that Bella is incredibly versatile.

As for making Costa and Vance suffer a little loss, Regulus didn't think it was a big deal.

He even endured the Crucifixion Curse.

By taking a loss or getting hurt, you gain clear protection and even further benefits, something others don't have the opportunity to do.

He provides them with protection, and they do things for him. He takes risks, and they take risks too. No one owes anyone anything.

We're just waiting for things to come to Labastan. Ideally, we can get everything together and resolve it all at once.

But Regulus didn't rush Alex and the others, letting them find their own pace and get the job done steadily.

During the day, classes proceeded normally. After the Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the afternoon, the people dispersed from the corridor.

Regulus told Avery and the others to go back first, and he walked in another direction, upstairs, toward Professor McGonagall's office.

I've made progress in spatial deformation. I've been practicing for almost three months since the start of the semester, and the duration of the hold has increased from a few seconds to nearly a minute. The structure is also clearer than before.

It's no longer that blurry, distorted mess. Now you can see a clear shape; squares are squares, circles are circles. Although the edges aren't perfectly regular, you can at least recognize it.

It's no longer that blurry, distorted mess. Now you can see a clear shape; squares are squares, circles are circles. Although the edges aren't perfectly regular, you can at least recognize it.

He knocked on the door.

"Come in."

McGonagall's voice came from inside, and Regulus pushed the door open and went in.

Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk, with another person sitting opposite her.

Sirius Black.