Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 292 Using Bella as Feed

Orion's gaze fell on the wand, looked at it for a while, and then shifted to Sirius.

He remained half-up, his arm dangling in mid-air, his finger still pointing at Regulus, his mouth open, and his eyes staring in his direction.

Orion then looked at Regulus.

Regulus had turned back, relaxed, with a relaxed expression, as if he were at ease to continue chatting after finishing his business.

Orion then looked at Kreacher.

Beside the desk, the little elf hung its head and hands, its two big ears almost drooping to its shoulders, its whole body bent into an arc, just like when it was called over to listen to commands.

Orion was already used to it.

Kreacher's influence is evident everywhere in this house.

Kreacher lit the fireplace every morning, organized the books in the study, and cooked the dishes on the table.

Staircases, corridors, floors, walls, windows, door handles—everywhere you can see in this old house has been cleaned by it.

Orion had certainly seen the magic of house-elves.

Kreacher used it dozens of times a day in the old house; the magic was quiet and gentle, filling every corner of the house like air.

But he never thought it could do anything else, and he never verified whether it could or not, because he had never thought in that direction.

It's just useful, like talking furniture, like a walking broom, like a pipe that swallows all the trivialities.

Pureblood families have always done this: they entrust their houses to the elves, their cubs to the elves, and their entire family life to them.

It's been hundreds of years and there haven't been any problems.

But just now, Kreacher snapped his fingers, and Sirius's wand flew out.

Sirius was certainly far from being strong; as a third-year student, his combat experience was practically zero, but he was indeed disarmed.

He was attacked by a house-elf in the instant before he even had a chance to touch his wand.

For centuries, pure-blood families have built their sense of security on the assumption that elves are absolutely obedient, absolutely loyal, and will never pose a threat to their masters.

No one has verified this hypothesis because no one realizes it is a hypothesis.

It was taken for granted as a fact, as a natural law, as self-evident as the sun rising in the east.

Orion turned his gaze away from Kreacher and onto Regulus's face.

He didn't ask Regulus how he knew Kreacher could do it, nor did he ask Kreacher any questions.

He tucked this matter away in a corner of his heart, placing it alongside things he didn't need to bring up for the time being but should remember.

He raised his hand and waved.

Kreacher bowed deeply and disappeared without a sound.

The green flames in the fireplace flickered twice, and the study fell silent for a moment, the portrait on the wall dozing off.

Orion looked at Regulus, waiting for him to speak.

Sirius, petrified, remained frozen in place, and neither of them looked at him again.

Regulus didn't speak immediately. He stared at the wand for a while, then looked up, his expression and tone calm.

"I ignited a spirit in school."

He paused, then added, "You can see it now."

Orion's hand, which was holding the teacup, froze in mid-air. He put the teacup down, neither drinking nor speaking.

silence.

Regulus continued, "In France, after my cousin Andromeda's wedding, Dumbledore took me to meet Nicolas Flamel."

Orion changed his posture, leaning forward, folding his hands, and resting his arms on the table.

Nicolas Flamel, the pinnacle of alchemy, a wizard who lived for over six hundred years, and the creator of the Philosopher's Stone.

Dumbledore's old friend, the one who ranks first in the living legends.

The significance of this name in the wizarding world needs no explanation.

Orion himself had only heard of the man, knew that he was still alive, and knew that he lived in seclusion somewhere in Paris.

But she never imagined that one day this name would be associated with her son.

"Le Maire told me that the soul needs to be nourished; it can eat," Regulus's voice echoed in the study.

"Eat what you've experienced, eat the choices you've made, eat what you absolutely refuse to let go of."

Orion listened.

"I thought about it for a while. Interacting with the outside world and exerting influence is like feeding it. Moreover, it shouldn't passively receive; it should actively push outwards. Every time it influences people and things outside, every time it makes them change their judgments, actions, and outcomes because of my existence, the soul is being nourished."

The more it eats, the stronger it becomes.

Orion remained silent for a long time.

The green flame in the fireplace flickered, then flickered again, its light shining on his face and casting a shadow on the wall.

When Regulus said to ignite the soul, he meant to ignite it; when he said to see it, he meant to see it.

This son never says he can't do something, nor does he ever explain what he hasn't accomplished.

soul.

Orion certainly knew what the soul was all about.

In the tradition of magic, the soul is never discussed as an independent subject, because it is omnipresent and permeates every spell, and cannot be discussed separately.

All spells, from the most basic levitation spell to the most profound black and white magic, are ultimately the wizard's will to intervene in the world through magic.

When a wizard casts a spell, magic is the medium, and the incantation is the key.

But what truly makes a spell this spell and not another is the will of the one casting the spell.

Where does willpower come from?

From the soul, the root of magic.

Hogwarts taught magic for seven years, from first year to seventh year. They learned hundreds of spells, from transfiguration from needle to match to human transformation, and potions from healing potions to polymorph potions.

But no lesson teaches the soul, because it cannot.

Knowing about the soul is one thing, but being able to perceive it, see it, touch it, and even actively nourish it is another.

Most wizards live their entire lives with their souls like a stone sunk to the bottom of the water. They know it exists, but they can't see it, touch it, let alone retrieve it and raise it.

Orion himself was the same.

He knew that the soul could grow stronger—that was no secret—but the distance between knowing and doing was farther than the distance from Grimmauld Place to Hogwarts.

All he can do is protect.

Prevent the soul from being corrupted, and prevent it from being degraded in the process of coming into contact with darkness.

This is what the main branch of the Black family has been doing for generations: learning dark magic, but not becoming addicted; navigating pure-blood politics, but not being consumed by it.

Stay clear-headed, keep your distance, and remain unchanged.

Forever pure.

Of course, not entirely.

Bella is not.

She embraced the dark magic, throwing herself entirely into it, her soul being stretched into the shape Voldemort desired.

But this main branch has remained the same for generations, guarding the boundaries and protecting themselves.

This is something that almost all pure-blooded families with a lineage are doing.

Black magic corrupts the soul; this is common sense, as common sense as fire burning your hand.

It's okay to touch fire, but you can't put your hand in and not take it out.

Most pure-blood families choose to avoid the fire and the deepest dark magic, thus preventing their souls from being corrupted.

But there are exceptions.

Some family heads died before they could teach their successors. When a young wizard took over the family, no one told him where the boundaries were. He plunged in and couldn't get out.

Some people are too talented and ambitious, thinking they can handle it and that the cost to their soul is nothing. As a result, they go further and further astray and eventually become a different person.

Therefore, protecting the soul is a consensus, but consensus does not mean that everyone will abide by it. Other families may also have people like Bella who voluntarily jump into the trap.

This is Orion's skill, and also his limit.

He can protect his soul, preventing it from being corrupted or deformed.

But he didn't know how to make it powerful.

Regulus did it; at twelve years old, he went where he couldn't.

Orion didn't ask him how he did it.

There is no standard answer to this kind of question, or perhaps there is, but that is Regulus's own answer, which he could not learn or apply even if he knew it.

And one more thing.

Dumbledore got involved, as did Nicolas Flamel.

The old man who had lived for six hundred years was willing to meet a twelve-year-old Blake and to tell him the framework of soul nourishment.

This tells us a lot.

Leaving aside Dumbledore, someone like Flamel, who has lived for six hundred years, has seen all kinds of wizards.

The fact that he was willing to speak up shows that he saw something in Regulus that was worth speaking up for.

Orion remained silent for a long time. A section of the firewood in the fireplace burned, and ashes fell from the firebox, landing on the iron grill and crumbling into powder.

He raised his gaze to Regulus, tilting his chin slightly: "Continue."

Regulus continued.

"Protecting those two mixed-race people at first was just a side effect." He spoke casually, with a hint of relaxation.

"Alex Rozier wanted to do it, so I let him. He's been leading those two guys, running errands, relaying messages, and keeping watch. He's doing a decent job."

"That wasn't the case later, Bella noticed, and a warning letter came in, so I replied with one."

Orion listened.

"Reply to SO," Regulus said.

Orion looked at him.

"Question mark," Regulus added.

Orion's brow twitched.

"Written with ketchup," Regulus added, "for breakfast, just grabbed it."

Orion remained silent.

smoothly?

He wrote "SO?" in ketchup in response to Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldemort's most loyal follower.

It doesn't sound natural at all.

But Orion didn't dwell on that.

He put this matter together with what Regulus had just said about nourishing the soul, and thought about it.

Actively push outwards and exert influence.

Bella is the core of the Death Eaters; provoking her is like pushing Voldemort's side.

These actions, if committed by a normal Black heir, would be impulsive and trouble-making.

In the case of Regulus, it's a scheme, a way to nourish his soul.

He was using Bella as animal feed.

Orion felt that Regulus had done the right thing, even done it well.

He nodded: "Continue."

"Labastan Lestrange got involved, sending Snape to find out about the two half-bloods, to find out why I was protecting them, and whether I had arranged something for them."

Snape turned and handed him the message.

Orion listened.

Snape, a half-Prince, was recruited by Regulus at school.

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