Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 349 Loyal Slytherin

The lounge was more than twice as crowded as usual; people were standing everywhere—on the sofa area, by the fireplace, in the corners, and at the entrance to the corridor leading to the dormitories.

It wasn't crowded, as Slytherin doesn't do that, but there were definitely a lot of people, and the air was filled with a buzzing sound.

As soon as the door opened, Regulus walked in, and the group of people closest to the door turned around first.

They stood on either side of the entrance, blocking half of the passage, robes touching robes, shoulders bumping shoulders.

Regulus glanced around and saw that they were all purebloods, but none of the Twenty-Eight Holy Races.

They were all from small to medium-sized pure-blood families. They crowded at the front, their faces full of eagerness, wishing they could get closer to him.

They have the title of pure-blood, some assets, some status, shops in Diagon Alley, or mid-level officials in the Ministry of Magic, but they don't rank on the power map of the British wizarding world.

They stood at the front because they were the most eager, and also because they didn't need to be reserved.

Pride is something that only qualified people need to maintain.

Looking further back, in the sofa area next to the fireplace, the young wizards of the Twenty-Eight Holy Tribes were sitting.

Some were holding cups, some were talking in hushed tones, and some were just sitting, glancing at the doorway before looking away.

They certainly wanted to come closer, but they couldn't squeeze in at the door with the smaller families; that would be beneath them. So they waited.

The mixed-race people were all splashed with water, and in this place, even the mixed-race people dared to squeeze in.

The entrance is now the center of the entire lounge, the focus of all eyes. They are sitting in the innermost corner of the lounge, looking this way, their envy and longing barely concealed.

Regulus observed all of this, his face expressionless, his steps unwavering, ignoring everyone's gaze, and continuing straight ahead.

Those at the very front paused for a moment, having prepared a whole host of things to say.

"You must be tired during the holiday, Mr. Black. How was your holiday? I heard you did something remarkable." But Regulus walked past them, eyes fixed ahead, his pace neither fast nor slow, just as usual.

A tall, thin older boy, with slicked-back hair, was standing at the very front. He had already raised his hand, his fingers spread, as if he wanted to pat Regulus's arm or shake his hand.

Regulus's gaze swept across his face without lingering or looking away, as if he were looking at a piece of furniture.

The boy's hand froze in mid-air, and a companion next to him quickly reached out and pressed his arm down, pulling him back half a step.

The crowd began to push backward.

No one shouted slogans. The people in the front row retreated on their own, and the people behind them were pushed back. The people behind them kept pushing forward, bumping into each other and getting into a mess in the middle.

But eventually, the people in front retreated quickly, and along the direction Regulus was walking, the crowd parted to both sides, clearing a passage from the doorway directly to the fireplace sofa area.

The passageway was narrow, just wide enough for two people to walk side by side, and there were faces on both sides.

Regulus walked in the lead.

Avery followed behind Regulus on the right, suppressing his excitement and keeping the curve of his lips within what he considered a proper range.

His steps had somehow synchronized with Regulus's, his left and right feet moving in perfect unison, his shoulders open, his chin slightly raised, trying to appear as if he were used to big scenes.

He knew, of course, that these people had gathered around him not because of him, but he walked beside Regulus, stood in this position, and enjoyed the same gaze.

He liked this feeling so much that he had to pinch his thigh to stop himself from laughing.

Alex was to Regulus's left rear, his gaze fixed straight ahead, ignoring his surroundings, with a somewhat helpless expression.

He didn't like being watched, but he knew that now was not the time to push through the crowd and slip away on his own; he should just obediently follow along.

Hermes walked at the very back, his gloomy face screaming, "Why the hell did I get involved in this?"

He had his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the back of Regulus's head; the people around him seemed to him as insignificant as bricks on a wall.

Two steps behind, Lena Costa and Samuel Vance followed.

They knew their place too well; they wouldn't walk to the same row as Avery and Alex. They were in the line, but they didn't try to take their spots.

Their home was completely isolated from news in the wizarding world. Once they left Hogwarts, the only way to get information was by reading newspapers, but their family didn't read newspapers.

The subscription fees for Lena's family went to rent, while the Daily Prophet for Samuel's family were old issues that his father occasionally picked up from the store that customers had left behind.

So during that short holiday, they had no idea what was happening outside.

It wasn't until they arrived at the station on the first day of school that they realized something was wrong.

Those Slytherin purebloods who wouldn't bully them before, but wouldn't even give them a second glance, actually nodded when they saw them.

Still no one spoke to them. Mixed-race people are mixed-race people; the proud pure-bloods looked down on them, but they nodded.

This is a world of difference compared to the previous complete disregard.

They didn't understand what had happened, but they vaguely guessed that it was related to Blake.

I asked Alex during the dinner, but he didn't explain it very clearly, only saying a few words.

Basically, Blake got into a fight during his vacation, and not only that, he burned down the other person's house.

What was burned was Lestrange Estate, and what was attacked was Bellatrix Lestrange.

The two exchanged a glance after hearing this, and didn't ask any more questions.

Now following behind the group, Lina suppressed a smile, but her eyes shone brightly.

She liked this, being seen by everyone, walking in the procession while people on both sides of the road backed away.

She knew these people were looking at Blake, but since she was there, she was being seen too.

Samuel walked quietly, his gaze passing over the shoulders of the people in front of him and landing on the back of Regulus at the front. Something flashed in his eyes, but he quickly concealed it.

Regulus walked to the sofa area in front of the fireplace, turned around, and sat down.

Avery sat down next to him on his right, Alex on his left. Hermes originally wanted to go straight back to his dormitory, but after looking at the group of people, he hesitated for a moment and then sat down as well.

Lena and Samuel didn't sit down; instead, they walked to either side of the sofa, one on the left and one on the right, and stood.

Regulus's sitting down was a signal; those who had been sitting still began to stand up.

The two people at the front got up from the sofa on the other side of the fireplace and walked over one after the other.

Polyus Greengrass walked ahead, thin and with neatly combed light brown hair. A silver-green colonel's badge was pinned to his left breast. His robe was without a single crease, and he stood upright and dignified.

He walked up to Regulus, nodded slightly, and extended his right hand.

Regulus stood up and shook hands with him.

"Black," Pollius's voice was clear and firm.

"Greengrass," Regulus replied, his grip firm but quick, releasing his hold after a brief moment.

The two nodded to each other, and that was it.

Polyus didn't say a word more, nor did he give any extra glances.

His task was simple: to confirm that the Black family heir had returned, was in good condition, and that the academy's order was unaffected.

The class monitor set the tone: don't make a fuss, don't ask questions, and treat it normally.

Regulus watched his retreating figure, and he knew the truth.

Pollius was not there to express his opinion or to gather information; he was performing his duties as prefect.

The Greengrass family has been able to maintain its position in the pureblood circle for over a dozen generations, not through speculation, but by avoiding mistakes.

Veronica Yaxley followed behind.

The seventh-year prefect was tall with sharp features and a solemn expression. Her golden hair was tied in a low ponytail, and the same silver-green badge flashed in the light from the fireplace.

She walked up, a slight smile on her lips, and extended her hand: "Regrus."

The Yaxley and Black families were acquainted; Walburga and Mrs. Yaxley were frequent guests at each other's tea parties, and the two families addressed each other by first names rather than surnames, which made them seem very familiar with each other.

Regulus shook her hand, a standard social smile on his lips: "Veronica."

"My mother took me to Grimmauld Place during the holidays," Veronica said, letting go of her hand, her tone slightly affectionate, "but you weren't there."

"I went to Cornwall," Regulus continued, "I had some things to take care of. It's a pity I didn't see Mrs. Yaxley. Please give her my regards."

Veronica nodded, her smile deepening. "Mother will be happy."

Then she took a step back, but didn't go far, and stood to the side, facing the crowd, naturally remaining in that position like an emcee.

Regulus glanced at her and understood.

Veronica's presence here is a way of showing those around her that she is close to the Black family heir.

He ignored her. If the Yaxley family wanted to take advantage of this, then so be it. The Black family wouldn't miss the favor they'd made at the tea party.

Next up is Elliott Rozier.

The Slytherin Quidditch captain, a sixth-year student, from the main branch of the Rozier family, tall with broad shoulders that stretched his robes out of shape.

His hair was shorter than that of a typical pure-blooded young master, he had a smile on his lips, walked with a swagger, and looked cheerful.

He gripped Regulus's hand with more force than the previous two, shaking it twice before letting go, a bright smile revealing a row of white teeth: "Black."

"Rozier," Regulus replied.

Elliott leaned forward slightly and said in a low voice, "Well done."

Regulus nodded. "Thank you."

Elliott released his grip, but didn't rush to leave. He turned to look at Alex.

Alex, Avery, and Hermes stood up after Regulus did. It was a rather formal occasion; it was inappropriate for them to sit while Regulus was standing.

Hermes was a little reluctant, but he stood up anyway, only leaning against the sofa armrest, half-sitting and half-leaning, looking like he was slacking off.

Elliott walked over and slapped Alex on the shoulder with considerable force, making Alex stagger.

"A little thin." Elliott squeezed his shoulder, frowned, and looked serious.

They all share the surname Rozier, though one is from a main branch and the other from a side branch. They usually only nod to each other when they meet at the academy, but with Regulus's connection, blood ties become useful.

"We're short-handed in the chase," Elliott said, releasing his grip and gesturing with his chin. "Want to give it a try?"

Alex paused for a moment, not expecting this, then gave a slightly shy smile and nodded: "Okay."

Elliott patted his arm with satisfaction, then turned and left.

Next up was Selwin, a sixth-grader, who brought Rosalie over.

Selwyn the Elder walked ahead, his attitude noticeably more enthusiastic than the others. He consistently expressed his desire to befriend Regulus, making no attempt to hide it, but without overstepping any boundaries.

He walked over and shook hands with just the right amount of force, giving it a slight shake, and said with a smile, "Blake, Rosalie hasn't gone out much during the holidays. She doesn't go to parties or tea parties; she just stays at home practicing her Ironclad Spell."

The tone was relaxed, but the meaning was clear: the people you've guided are highly valued in our family, and we've been practicing according to your instructions.

Regulus's lips curled into a slight smile, a smile that was more gentle than before, as he turned to Rosalie: "Miss Selwyn."

Rosalie stood behind her cousin, wearing a well-fitting dark robe, her hair tied in a high ponytail, looking delicate and neat, with slightly red tips on her ears.

Her eyes were bright, and her voice was steady, but the last syllable of her voice rose, unable to suppress the excitement in her throat.

"Mr. Blake."

Grand Selwyn nodded slightly to Rosalie, who understood, stepped forward, and drew her wand.

"Iron armor protects you."

A silver barrier surged from the tip of the staff, unfolding completely and transparently before her.

It's much more stable than last semester. There are no burrs on the edges, the thickness is uniform, and there is a very fine flowing texture on the surface.

It was clear that she was indeed practicing; the spell's structure was solid, the magic output was even, and she maintained it steadily.

Regulus stepped forward, raised his right hand, extended his index finger, and gently tapped the barrier.

clang.

Like metal striking metal, crisp and clear, with a short echo.

A visible ripple spread outwards from the center of the barrier around the point of impact, causing the entire spherical shield to sway.

But it didn't break.

A few gasps of surprise came from the surrounding area, and a few people leaned forward before shrinking back.

The Ironclad Spell alone was enough to surprise them. Among the older students present, there weren't many who could unleash the complete Ironclad Spell, let alone a first-year student.

But what they couldn't understand even more was Regulus's action of tapping the armored charm with his fingers.

Without chanting a spell, waving a wand, or even any premonition of casting a spell, the barrier shook with a casual tap.

What methods?

Rosalie was also taken aback. She felt the pressure coming from the barrier; it was so heavy that she almost couldn't hold on.

Regulus withdrew his finger, sensing the state of the barrier.

The things he put in at the last orientation party are still there, but most of them have been worn away.

The spell's owner is gradually replacing the guidance he left behind with his own understanding. At this rate, in another month or two, the Ironclad Spell will be entirely Rosalie's own.

"Not bad," he said, looking at Rosalie gently. "It's clear you've been practicing hard."

Rosalie removed the armor charm, put down her wand, her chest heaved slightly, and her lips were pursed as if she would burst into laughter if she didn't.

"Miss Selwyn," Regulus added, "you have great talent, don't waste it."

Rosalie nodded vigorously, her eyes shining brightly, her hair tossing over her shoulder, her voice trembling slightly, but she was trying to control herself: "I will, Mr. Black."

The elder and younger Selwyn left. The elder Selwyn nodded to Regulus, and Regulus returned the nod.

Several more arrived one after another.

A seventh-grade girl with Parkinson's, a fifth-grade boy from Flint, a first-grade student from Darius Nott, and a third-grade student from McNeil.

Regulus responded to each person's requests, shaking hands, nodding, addressing them by their surnames, and exchanging a few polite words.

I've met all of these people.

A cordial and friendly meeting.

The young wizards of the twenty-eight tribes gradually returned to their positions, and the humming of low conversation resumed around the fireplace.

But there were still people gathered around the entrance, mostly from small and medium-sized families. Now that things were over here, they were starting to get restless again.

Some people were looking this way, and some were whispering among themselves, probably discussing who should go up and speak first.

Regulus had no intention of continuing.

These people are valuable, but he doesn't need to deal with them personally.

He turned and patted Avery on the shoulder: "It's up to you now."

Then I walked straight towards the dormitory.

The crowd parted automatically to make way for him, Alex followed, and Hermes sprang up from the sofa armrest, put his hands in his pockets, and followed behind.

Avery stood there stunned for a moment, then the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, a subtle, well-controlled smile, reserved and proper, with a hint of barely suppressed excitement.

He stood up, straightened the collar of his robe, and turned to face the crowd still watching from the doorway.

Lena and Samuel exchanged a glance, then took a few steps forward in unison, moving from either side of the sofa to stand behind Avery, with Lena on the left and Samuel on the right.

Avery glanced back and saw the two men standing behind him, then nodded in satisfaction.

Lena's lips curled slightly, while Samuel's face remained expressionless. The two of them stood quietly as a backdrop, complementing Avery's grand entrance.

They know all too well how to find their place in these situations.

Veronica was still standing there. Seeing this, she raised an eyebrow slightly but didn't say anything.

The dormitory door closed behind him, and Regulus walked to his bed, reaching out to unbutton the hidden clasp at the collar of his robe.

Alex sat down beside him, while Hermes leaned against the bedpost with his arms crossed, looking at Regulus.

Avery's voice came from outside, high-pitched, with a deliberately suppressed calmness, the tone well-balanced between enthusiasm and formality.

"Welcome back, everyone. The new semester has begun. Blake asked me to pass on a few words—"

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