Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Regulus nodded: "Then let's talk."

After receiving Bella's letter, which was clearly accusatory, and responding with an even more indifferent attitude, he realized that his mindset had changed.

He knew very well where this change came from: power.

He spent more than a year cultivating a sense of composure, which made him start to feel indifferent to many things he used to be too lazy to bother with, and to lend a hand or say a few words.

He used to think that talking to Sirius was pointless, since Sirius wouldn't understand and it would be a waste of time since they couldn't see eye to eye, so he wouldn't talk to him.

I actually feel that way now, but I just feel like we can talk. I can't explain why, but I feel more at ease now, so let's talk and see where the conversation leads.

The two walked to the end of the corridor, went up the stairs, turned one corner, and then turned another.

The torchlight grew dimmer, and the corridor grew quieter.

Regulus reached the seventh floor, turned into a side corridor, and stopped in front of a window.

This is a recessed corridor window sill, with an arched window opening and a stone sill covered with a thin layer of gray.

He walked over, opened the window, and a cold wind blew in. He held onto the railing and looked outside.

It was completely dark.

Across the street was the Gryffindor Tower, brightly lit with warm light shining from its windows, and shadowy figures moving about by the windows.

The young wizards hurriedly put on their robes, buttoning them as they ran outside, rushing to get to their meal.

The corridor was dark, and the torches were far apart, so their light didn't reach the windowsills.

The light on both sides was like two different worlds, one bright and the other dim.

Sirius followed, leaning against the railing without holding onto it, his back to the window, facing the corridor.

He had his hands in his pockets, one leg slightly bent, and the other leg stretched out in front of him, his posture casual and lazy, lacking any proper standing posture.

But his expression wasn't so lazy; his brows were slightly furrowed, the corners of his mouth were downturned, and his gaze was fixed on the floor of the corridor, not looking at anything specific.

Regulus looked at him and felt a little unfamiliar.

Sirius Black was never like this at Grimoire Place.

There, he either remained silent, exploded, or locked himself in his room and refused to come out.

His emotions are unpredictable; one second he might be sneering, and the next he might be slamming a door.

But here, at Hogwarts, it's different for him.

He has friends, places to go, people to chat and laugh with, and people to joke and play with.

He no longer had to face Walbuga's face every day, nor listen to those portraits pointing and whispering about him in the corridor.

He can do what he wants and go where he wants.

Regulus thought for a moment; he had never seen Sirius look like this in Grimmauld Place.

Lazy, but not decadent; casual, but not indifferent.

He leaned there, as if he were in a comfortable place, where he didn't have to suppress any emotions or be wary of anyone.

This is probably the biggest change in him since he left that home.

The two remained silent for a while.

"Regrus," Sirius said, his tone tinged with emotion, unlike his usual nonchalant manner, "how long has it been since we had a proper conversation?"

Regulus remained silent and did not answer directly.

He wasn't sure what level Sirius meant by "speaking properly."

What constitutes a proper conversation?

How long should a conversation last to be considered a proper conversation?

Or does not arguing mean we are communicating well?

He thought for a moment, and realized that the last time Sirius had spoken to him with a smile was when he was about four or five years old.

Back then, Sirius wasn't involved in so many things, nor did he harbor so much hatred towards the Black family.

Back then, nothing was formed yet; he was just a child who couldn't sit still and would always drag people along.

Grimmauld Place is such a large mansion, it's harder than anything else for him to stay there peacefully.

He would disappear for a moment and then suddenly reappear, his face showing the excitement of having just gotten himself into some trouble.

Sometimes he would make a mess of food in the restaurant, and Walbuga would chase after him, yelling and laughing as he ran, making the whole house noisy.

Regulus remembered those things, but remembering is one thing, but Sirius is a long time ago now.

Regulus snapped out of his thoughts and asked, "What does 'speak properly' mean?"

Sirius grinned, letting out a breath that was both irritable and helpless.

He rarely felt like expressing his feelings, but he never expected Regulus to ask such a question.

What does it mean to speak properly?

He thought about it, but he still couldn't figure it out, and he wasn't even sure if they had ever really had a proper conversation.

Let's skip this topic.

After leaving Grimmauld Place, he thought about many people and many things, but the one he thought about most was Regulus.

He himself found it strange that when he was in Grimmauld Place, he wished he could be as far away from that place as possible, including Regulus.

After he left, he thought he would forget all those things, including Regulus.

But he failed; he was always thinking about Regulus.

I imagine him eating quietly in the restaurant at Grimmauld Place, I imagine the feeling of him punching me in the ribs in the training room, I imagine his back as he tells me to take care of myself in the corridor and then turns away.

He thought about many things, but the one thing he thought about most was that matter.

The day Bella arrived, she brought with her the gift from Voldemort, that dark revelation.

He thought about it for a long time afterward.

He thought Regulus was bewitched by Bella's words—power, glory, Black—those words, spoken by Bella, carried a nauseating fanaticism.

He thought Regulus had been infected by that fanaticism, had become blinded by it, and had accepted that filthy thing.

But then I realized it didn't make sense; Regulus wasn't that kind of person.

He knew from a young age that Regulus was different from others.

He is not easily swayed and will not get carried away by a few words. He is always calm, restrained, and has a reason for everything he does.

Such a person wouldn't accept that kind of thing just because Bella swayed him with a few words.

Why did he accept the call?

Sirius couldn't figure out the answer.

He thought about it all vacation, about the start of school, and about now.

Sometimes he felt the answer was right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it; other times he felt the answer was so far away that he didn't even dare to think about it.

He was afraid to know the answer.

He was afraid Regulus would say, "Because I want to become stronger," and he was afraid Regulus would say, "Because it's the right choice."

In Sirius's mind, Regulus did indeed have that side.

Regulus's pursuit of power seems endless. He's almost never home during holidays, and no one knows what he's busy with, but every time we meet, I can sense that he's become even stronger.

Even after a whole holiday of training, when he recalled the scene in the training room at Grimaldi Square where he faced Regulus, he couldn't think of any way he could have caused Regulus any trouble.

The gap is too big.

Even though Regulus was so powerful, it felt like something was chasing him from behind, never stopping.

He knew about the situation outside—Voldemort, Death Eaters—but weren't those things far away from them?

He's only in third grade, and Regulus is only in second grade, why are they in such a hurry?

This thought had been weighing on his mind for half a year, from the holidays to the start of the school term, and from the start of the school term to today.

He couldn't hold it in any longer.

Sirius Black's voice was laced with resentment: "Why did you accept that thing back then?"

Regulus looked at him.

It's been half a year, and you're still thinking about it?

But the fact that he was able to ask the question shows that he wasn't just daydreaming; he was genuinely thinking about it.

Whether his thinking was correct or not is another matter, but at least he didn't treat this as simply 'Regrus did something wrong'.

Regulus didn't answer directly, but instead asked, "Sirius, do you know what true power is?"

Sirius Black exploded, his composure shattering. He sprang up from the railing, turned to look at Regulus, his eyes wide, his voice rising sharply.

"You—" he gritted his teeth, his voice filled with anger and disappointment, "You mean there's real power inside? That thing—"

Regulus turned his head and glanced at him, a little surprised, before realizing where Sirius's logic had gone.

He ignored it and continued, "Have you thought about the consequences of refusing?"

Sirius paused for a moment, then jumped out without thinking: "What could it be—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

He fell silent and began to think about what would have happened if Regulus had refused.

How will Bella react? Will she turn hostile on the spot? What will Voldemort think? Will he feel that the Black family is ungrateful? Will he retaliate?

Sirius had never thought about these questions before.

In his view, things that are wrong should not be accepted, regardless of the consequences.

This is a matter of right or wrong; nothing else needs to be considered.

But now, Regulus's question suddenly brought to mind a string of things he had never thought of before.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Regulus saw him stuck there and knew what was going on.

Sirius Black's moral compass is linear: good things should be done, and bad things shouldn't be done.

He doesn't tend to think about the consequences of doing something good or refusing something bad.

For him, right and wrong are reasons in themselves.

There's nothing wrong with that.

But this idea doesn't work when facing Voldemort, and sometimes it doesn't work with Dumbledore either.

It doesn't even work very well among junior wizards.

But that's Sirius Black.

Sirius stopped talking. He swallowed his anger, leaned back against the railing, put his hands back in his pockets, and stared at the ground.

Regulus looked at him.

It's been half a year, and the fact that you can still ask questions shows some progress.

Although it seems like I haven't thought about what happened for so long, at least I've thought about it now, maybe.

"So," Regulus asked again, "do you know what true power is?"

Sirius was silent for a long time, then he raised his head, frowning: "I can win, and I can protect the people I want to protect."

Regulus continued, "And then?"

Sirius answered quickly: "Then it's about making those people afraid to mess with you."

Regulus nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing: "But we won, we protected, we deterred—is that enough?"

Sirius opened his mouth as if to say "enough," but then realized the words weren't quite right.

He raised his right hand as if to scratch his head, then lowered it again.

He turned his head directly to Regulus: "Then tell me, what is true power?"

The wildly popular novel "Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars," a heartfelt work by author Zhuang Shui Zhi Zhu, is available on Cola Novels.