Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 320 Christmas Gift, Lily's Desire

Penny was at the table, munching on a toffee, her eyes fixed on the back of Lily's head.

She saw Lily curled up on the blanket, hugging her knees, resting her chin on them, glancing at the window, then looking away, glancing again, then looking away again, her lips pouting, just like a child who couldn't wait for candy.

This doesn't look like the usual Lily.

For a moment, Penny felt something she couldn't quite describe.

She was used to Lily always getting more attention, and she was used to feeling uncomfortable because of it.

Seeing my sister like this for the first time, I felt a sense of relief. It turns out that Lily also has times when she can't get what she wants, and that she can also feel down.

But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she frowned.

She is the older sister.

She shouldn't feel comfortable because her sister is unhappy; that's a terrible thought.

Penny popped the second toffee into her mouth and chewed it vigorously.

It was just past nine o'clock, or maybe close to ten, when suddenly there was a knock on the door, three times, evenly spaced, with moderate force.

"I'll go take a look." Mr. Evans put down his newspaper, stood up, walked to the door, and opened it.

The door opened, and a gust of cold wind rushed in, causing the fireplace flames to flicker.

Mr. Evans peeked out and looked around. The street was quiet, and the curtains in the neighbor's house were still drawn.

"Hello?" He took a step outside.

No one answered.

"Hello?" he called again, this time a little louder.

Lily heard her father call out twice in the living room, and something suddenly flashed into her mind.

She jumped up from the blanket, her slippers slapping against the floor, ran to the door, and squeezed next to her father.

"Dad—" she peeked out from the door frame, then lowered her head with her father.

At the bottom of the steps, near the very bottom step, there was a basket.

It is oval-shaped, woven from dark brown willow branches, with a tight weave. A dark green ribbon is wrapped around the handle, and the knot is tied neatly and meticulously.

The basket was lined with a layer of dark velvet, and something was nestled on the velvet.

It was very small, black, curled up in a ball, and I couldn't tell what it was.

Lily crouched down, her eyes shining.

The black thing moved, extended a claw with dark gray pads and the nails retracted into the paw pads, and then a head emerged from its curled-up body.

A very small kitten, probably less than three months old.

Its short, pure black fur lies close to its body, and its fine texture, along with the tips of its fur, gleams with a very faint silver-gray sheen in the morning light, like a thin layer of mist.

The kitten raised its head and looked at Lily.

A pair of deep blue eyes, so dark they seemed almost black, their pupils slightly contracting in the morning light.

When it looks at people, it doesn't dart around like a normal kitten; its gaze is fixed, and it stares quietly.

It didn't bark or even open its mouth; it just stared at Lily, tilting its head slightly.

It's not the round, chubby kind of kitten. It has a slender frame and long limbs. It's not noticeable when it's curled up, but when it sits up with its front paws on its hands, its proportions become apparent.

It has long legs, a narrow body, a slender and straight neck, and pointed ears that splay slightly to the sides.

Elegant and noble.

Lily let out a short gasp, more of a breath than a sound: "...Oh my god."

Mr. Evans also squatted down. He didn't recognize the breed; his family had never owned a cat.

His knowledge of cats was limited to the chubby orange cat kept at the bakery on the corner and the gray, long-haired cat that always dozed off on the windowsill next door.

But he could tell that the cat in front of him wasn't the kind that would appear on a street corner.

The short black fur shimmered with an indescribable silvery sheen in the morning light. Its frame was so small yet its lines were so beautiful, and those eyes—even someone who doesn't know much about cats knows this kind of thing isn't cheap.

Mr. Evans glanced into the basket and saw a card tucked under the corner of the velvet. He reached for it, but Lily was faster and had already pulled it out.

He didn't say anything, and slowly stood up.

He looked at Lily's profile. His little daughter was squatting on the steps, one hand clutching a card, the other already in the basket, her fingers gently rubbing the kitten's head.

The kitten didn't dodge or come closer; it simply tilted its head slightly, letting her finger trace along the back of its ear.

He saw the expression on Lily's face: the joy of receiving a gift, the relief of something finally landing.

Same as last year.

Mr. Evans looked at his empty fingers, then at the back of Lily's head.

The Hogwarts boy's gift has arrived.

He had a lot to say, but he couldn't say a word.

The things his daughter was exposed to were completely beyond his comprehension. What kind of family does a boy who can give away such things come from?

All he knew was that, pieced together from Lily's vague descriptions, it was a family where everyone was a wizard, a world that was far removed from their Evans family.

Mr. Evans didn't say anything, and turned to walk into the house.

Lily squatted on the steps, rubbing her fingers back and forth behind the kitten's ears several times.

The kitten cooperated well, neither hiding nor meowing, but it also didn't try to crawl into her hand, maintaining a unique sense of distance that only cats have.

Lily found it a little funny; this attitude seemed all too familiar.

Just as she was about to take the kitten out, a thought suddenly struck her, and she looked up at the street.

At the end of Lilac Road is a gentle slope, at the top of which stands a bare oak tree, its branches stretching out to the sky in winter.

A person was standing next to the oak tree.

The distance wasn't short, about forty or fifty meters. He was wearing a long black robe, the fabric of which swayed gently in the morning breeze, standing out from everything else on the street.

The man saw Lily look up and took off his hat.

He wore a dark, round-topped hat, the kind British wizards wear on formal occasions. He took off his hat very slowly, as if deliberately slowing down so she could see it clearly.

Then he nodded slightly.

The distance was too great for Lily to see his face clearly, but she saw something else.

There was a small emblem on the left breast of the man's robe.

From that distance, she shouldn't have been able to see it clearly, but she could. The outline of the emblem became exceptionally sharp in her vision, and every line looked as if it had been thickened.

She had seen this coat of arms before, but it wasn't exactly the same; the one on Regulus's robe was more exquisite, with more intricate embroidery and different colors.

The person's features have been simplified, with only the core pattern remaining. Perhaps he is an employee of the Black family? Or some kind of executor?

That's enough if you see it clearly.

The man put his hat back on, pulled the brim down slightly, turned around and took two steps. His figure faded behind the oak tree for a moment, and then disappeared.

Phantom shift, silent and stealthy.

Lily stared at the oak tree for a while, and only looked away after confirming that the person had left.

The Black family's employees delivered the goods to a Muggle family's doorstep.

It was arranged by Regulus.

The Black family is pure-blooded and has never had contact with Muggles, at least on the surface. However, employees are not considered family members, and the employer's position is their position.

The person Regulus chose to do this job wasn't an important figure, but he wasn't just anyone either; he was at least clever.

The delivery was completed in the Muggle neighborhood. After confirming that the recipient had seen it, a magic spell was used from a distance to let her see the details of the emblem. A single glance was enough to confirm. There was no need to approach or speak to her, nor any unnecessary movements.

They handled matters thoroughly and were courteous in their manners.

Lily squatted on the steps, a smile playing on her lips, her eyes shining.

She took the kitten out of the basket and held it in her arms. The kitten was startled by her sudden action.

It kicked its four paws twice in the air and then stopped moving. One of its front paws rested on the collar of her sweater, and its deep blue eyes looked up at her.

Lily looked down and met its gaze, then laughed out loud and ran back into the house.

"Mommy! Mommy, look!"

As she ran into the living room, one of her slippers flew off, but she didn't care. With one bare foot on the carpet, she held the kitten up to Mrs. Evans.

Mrs. Evans was startled by her movement, put down her knitting needles, and took a look at them.

The kitten sat quietly in her hands, its deep blue eyes sweeping over her before turning its head toward Lily, a clear preference.

"What kind of cat is this?" Mrs. Evans rolled over to look at her belly. The kitten was unhappy and kicked with its paw, but didn't extend its claws.

"I don't know the breed either," Lily said, snatching the kitten back into her arms and gently rubbing the back of its neck with her fingers. "But it's definitely not an ordinary cat."

She sat down in front of the fireplace, holding the kitten, and could feel something under her fingers, very faint, like touching a warm stone, with something slowly pulsating inside.

Magic, that feeling is unmistakable.

She wasn't surprised, because it was a gift from Regulus; it would be strange if it wasn't special.

She gently stroked the kitten's chin with her finger. The kitten squinted its eyes, raised its chin slightly, revealing a small area of ​​lighter fur below its throat.

The fur there was dark gray, with a faint bluish tinge in the firelight of the fireplace.

"You're definitely not an ordinary kitten," Lily whispered.

The kitten glanced at her, then closed its eyes again.

She placed the kitten on the blanket and unfolded the card.

A piece of parchment, unsigned, with a faint patterned watermark pressed in the corner, just like the one on last year's note.

She had seen this kind of parchment before; Regulus often used it to write, and his handwriting was the same.

"This one is easy to raise, and quite family-like. Don't feed it too much. Merry Christmas."

Lily read the line of text once, and then read it again.

She smiled, folded the parchment, and put it in her sweater pocket.

Then she picked up the kitten, running her fingers from the top of its head to the tip of its tail. The kitten's tail was long and thin, and the end of it hooked her fingertip briefly before letting go.

Penny saw the kitten.

The little black cat was curled up in Lily's arms, bathed in the light of the fireplace, its silvery fur tips shimmering. Its deep blue eyes were half-closed, and it looked so beautiful.

She likes cats, cute little animals, who doesn't like them?

But she didn't want to go there, because every time she got close to such things, she would remember that it wasn't her world, and it had nothing to do with her.

Penny crumpled the candy wrapper in her hand, held it tightly in her palm, and her eyes darkened.

Lily looked over at that moment.

She was about to call Penny over to see the kitten, but as she opened her mouth halfway, she suddenly remembered something.

Kitten, parchment, that line of text, Regulus.

When I think of Regulus, the first image that comes to mind is that abandoned classroom, the silver light, and the words he spoke.

Guardian deity.

"Looking forward is longing, looking back is memory."

"What you most want to protect is not necessarily your happiest moment, but the thing you least want to lose."

She stood in front of the fireplace, looking at Penny.

Penny sat at the table, clutching a candy wrapper in her hand, her shoulders slightly hunched, avoiding her gaze.

Lily always knew what her sister was thinking.

Petunia changed the day she received her Hogwarts acceptance letter.

Before that, they shared a bedroom, hid under the covers at night to tell ghost stories, and went to town together on weekends to buy cheap hair clips.

In the summer, I would roll around on the lawn in the backyard, getting my clothes covered in grass stains, and my mother would chase me down the street and yell at me.

Later, Lily went to Hogwarts, and Petunia went to the high school in Kirkworth.

One learned to make leaves dance in the palm of their hand, while the other learned how to pretend not to care.

She knew that Petunia had written to Dumbledore, asking him to accept her into Hogwarts as well.

After learning she had been rejected, Penny cried for an entire afternoon, locking herself in her bedroom and refusing to come out. She tore the reply into pieces and then pieced it back together, only to tear it up again.

She knew that Penny's dislike wasn't filled with hatred, but rather with the pain of wanting something but not being able to have it.

She wants to fix this.

She used to think there was nothing she could do; she couldn't share her magic with Penny, nor could she pretend she wasn't a witch. This rift was something that was innate, and no one could mend it.

But Regulus's words echoed in her mind.

He told her to go find that longing, but she couldn't figure it out even after thinking about it for a long time.

But now, looking at Penny sitting there, and at the coldness her sister was trying to maintain on her face, and the things she couldn't hide underneath, she suddenly felt that perhaps there was something she longed for that wasn't too far away.

Penny is her sister, and she wants Penny to know that some things haven't changed. Even if Penny never enters that magical world, she is still her sister.

She didn't want to lose her sister.

She didn't know if this counted as a desire, but she wanted to try.

Lily, holding the kitten, walked towards Penny.

Penny watched her approach and instinctively wanted to frown, but she held back.

Lily walked up to her and handed the kitten forward, saying, "Sister."

Penny looked up and saw Lily holding up the black kitten, its deep blue eyes staring at her, its paws resting on Lily's fingers, its tail drooping with the tip slightly hooked.

"Let's give it a name," Lily said with a smile.

Penny was stunned.

She looked at Lily's face, and Lily smiled at her, her eyes crinkling, just like when she was a child.

She glanced at the kitten again.

The kitten tilted its head, as if sizing her up.

Penny shifted her gaze from the kitten to her parents over there.

Her mother looked at her with a smile, and her father looked at her and nodded.

Penny looked at Lily again.

Her lips moved slightly, her expression shifting between stiffness and softness before settling on an unnatural smile.

"You've always given really awful names." Her voice was a little hoarse.

Lily laughed even harder and shoved the kitten directly into Penny's arms.

Penny hurriedly caught it. The kitten kicked in her palm, then curled up, its front paws resting on her wrist, and its tail gently brushing against her forearm.

Penny looked down at the cat, touched its back with her finger, pulled it back as if it were something very hot, then stretched it out again and gently touched it.

The charcoal in the fireplace cracked, and two sparks flew out, landing on the iron bars and extinguishing the fire.