Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

On the last day of September, just after dinner, the prefects of the seventh year, Lucrezius Burke and Narcissa Black, stood at the end of the Slytherin table, tapping their goblets lightly with silver spoons.

"All Slytherin students, please return directly to the common room after dinner." Narcissa rose gracefully. "First-year students, please be present."

The moment those words were spoken, the atmosphere at the Slytherin table changed.

The older students exchanged knowing glances, and several fifth-grade boys even wore knowing smiles.

The students, especially those from the core families of ancient clans, all wore expressions of "finally, they've arrived" on their faces.

Avery Cuthbert immediately put down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and a hint of excitement flashed in his eyes.

Hermes Murseb slowly raised his head, his gloomy gaze sweeping across the faces of the prefects before finally settling on Regulus beside him.

Only Alex Rozier, the boy from the gentle pureblood branch, blinked blankly and asked softly, "What happened? Why do we have to go back?"

Avery scoffed, making no attempt to hide the superiority and a hint of pity in his tone: "Rozier, didn't your family tell you? Well, that's true, your family... humph."

This is a tradition, Slytherin's welcoming ceremony, to see which of the little snakes that have come in this year has the sharpest fangs.

Alex's face paled, clearly understanding something. He looked uneasily at Regulus, then at the other freshmen.

The commotion attracted the attention of the other three houses, who began to discuss it amongst themselves, with upperclassmen telling lowerclassmen about Slytherin's unique traditions.

Regulus felt more than one gaze directed at him from the professors' table, and what bothered him was that Dumbledore was among them.

Meanwhile, gazes came from Gryffindor as well, from Lily Evans, James Potter, and Sirius Black. He didn't respond, but simply stood up silently.

The atmosphere was completely different when everyone filed into the common lounge deep underground.

The emerald green flames in the fireplace danced, illuminating the dark green curtains and silver decorations, as well as the dozens of faces in the room with their varied expressions.

The older students gathered in twos and threes around the sofa and armchairs, chatting and laughing in hushed tones, their eyes scanning the ten newly arrived first-graders.

The first-graders subconsciously gathered together, yet subtly split into several small groups.

Avery, Hermes, and others, all pureblood core members, naturally stood together, their expressions ranging from arrogant to gloomy.

The other freshmen, including two mixed-race students, a boy and a girl, who looked nervous and dressed in rather plain robes, seemed isolated and helpless.

Their eyes darted frantically through the crowd, finally settling on Regulus without prior agreement.

Over the past month, Regulus's behavior has been quite different from that of other pure-blooded wizards of noble birth.

He didn't have that kind of deliberate arrogance, never participated in pointless denigration of bloodlines or origins, and was rigorous and fair in his approach to classroom questions and group assignments.

In the eyes of those freshmen who were not pure-blooded members of the inner circle or came from ordinary families, this second son of the Black family was almost the only reasonable and reliable person among the Slytherin freshmen.

At that moment, they subconsciously moved closer to where Regulus was, as if this would give them a slight sense of security.

Regulus sensed these subtle signs of reliance, but he made no comment. He simply walked calmly to the edge of the open space in the center of the lounge, stood quietly, and his gray eyes swept across the room.

"Quiet." Lucretius Burke walked to the fireplace, his voice low and his expression solemn.

The lounge immediately fell silent.

"Same as always," he said succinctly. "First-year students, two-on-one battles, no restrictions on spells, as long as you can use them and they don't cause trouble for Madam Pomfrey."

The purpose is to help you understand yourselves and others. Slytherin respects power, and also the wisdom to wield it.

As soon as he finished speaking, low murmurs and snickers arose among the older students around him.

"The betting's open! The betting's open!" A sixth-grade boy grinned and pulled out a small notebook: "I'm betting on which rookie will make it to the end this year. The odds are up now! I'm betting ten Galleons on that Black kid."

"Nonsense, why would you need to bet?" A girl next to him rolled her eyes. "Look at him, he doesn't look eleven at all. I bet he can take down all his opponents in less than three minutes."

"That's not quite right," another seventh-grade boy wearing glasses pushed up his glasses and pretended to analyze, "That guy from the Murseb family, he has a really sinister look in his eyes, and I heard his family has some unusual collections."

And the Cuthbert family, they weren't exactly good-for-nothings either.

"Come on, look at the way Blake is standing there." The sixth-grade boy who spoke first gestured with his chin.

"Others were either trembling with nervousness, overly excited, or, like Avery, forcing a smile."

Look at him again, he's like someone standing at the door of their own study waiting for tea. I'm betting he won't even wrinkle his robe.

These comments drifted clearly into the ears of the first-year students, and Avery's face flushed slightly, a mixture of excitement and anger.

Alex became even more nervous, his fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his robe, while the two mixed-race students turned pale.

Hermes remained somber, his gaze toward Regulus sharper than ever.

Regulus, the focus of the discussion, simply stood there quietly, his face expressionless.

"Now, we'll draw lots to determine our opponents for the first round." Narcissa took out a small silver cup containing a parchment slip.

The draw results came out quickly, and Alex was matched against a similarly nervous pureblood collateral branch boy.

A mixed-race girl drew Avery's name and her face turned even paler, while Regulus drew another pure-blooded boy's name, whose expression looked like he was about to cry after seeing the note.

"etc."

A deep voice rang out.

Hermes Murseb stepped out from the crowd, looked at the two prefects, and then turned his gaze to Regulus: "I request to fight Regulus Black."

There was a moment of silence in the lounge, followed by an even louder buzz of voices demanding a change of opponent. This was not common, but it was not prohibited by the rules, as long as both parties agreed.

Lucretius raised an eyebrow and looked at Regulus: "Black?"

All eyes turned to them.

Regulus looked at Hermes, whose dark eyes held no provocation, only an almost obsessive seriousness and something repressed.

He recalled the burnt smell from his nighttime stroll back to the dormitory, and the dark red-covered book without a name.

"Alright." Regulus nodded calmly, then added, "However, since it's a one-on-one rotation, we can wait until the end and let the others finish their matches first."

The boy who was replaced felt like he had been granted a pardon and quickly nodded and ran to the side.

The other freshmen had no objections; everyone could see that the duel between Regulus and Hermes was likely on a completely different level from the others.

The two prefects exchanged a glance and nodded: "Okay, then let's start with the other groups."

The duel began quickly, the open space was cleared, and the area was filled with students watching.

Alex and his opponent were practically locked in a stalemate, their spells mumbled and stumbled with tension, and the light from the disarming spell flickered and distorted.

Alex ultimately lost because he tripped in his panic, which drew laughter from the crowd.

Avery had a much easier time against the mixed-race girl. He used a beautiful Obstacle Charm to throw her off balance, followed by a precise Disarm Charm to end the fight, earning nods of approval from several upperclassmen.

The other groups were similar.

As Regulus observed, first-year students, even those carefully trained young wizards from pure-blood families, still have immature magic, weak control, and almost zero practical experience at this age.

The contents of the Standard Spellbook were already a subject that required them to practice diligently.

Being able to fluently and accurately cast basic and practical spells such as Disarming Charm, Obstacle Charm, Leg-Lowering Charm, Locking Charm, Petrifying Charm, and Fire Charm is quite good among peers.

But for Regulus, these spells were no challenge at all.

Any spell that requires only precise gestures, clear pronunciation, and basic magical guidance is something he can learn almost instantly and master with a little practice.

His powerful control and calculation abilities are enough to make up for the age gap, allowing these basic spells to exhibit stability and power in his hands that far exceed those of his peers.

Of course, magic is far more complex than that.

Some spells that require strong emotional drive, involve complex conceptual understanding, or require special talent and medium are still areas he needs to learn and study.

After several rounds of battles, the freshmen were exhausted. Some were excited, some were frustrated. In the end, only Regulus and Hermes remained standing in the center of the open space.