Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 370 The Restlessness of Youth

Sirius stood beside the planting trough, one hand behind his back, the other gesturing in the air.

He spoke rapidly, his mouth opening and closing, his expression as if he were explaining something very complicated, but the more he explained, the more confused he became, his brows furrowing in disarray.

Eleanor squatted in front of the planting trough, holding a pot of mandrakes tightly to her chest, her arms wrapped around the pot.

She looked up at Sirius, her eyebrows furrowed, her lips downturned, and her head, covered by earmuffs, tilted slightly. Her expression clearly said, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Sirius Black pulled his hand out from behind his back, clutching a few leaves—dark green, thick, with serrated edges—mandrake leaves.

He hid his hand behind his back for a moment, then took it out again, probably trying to explain something. His expression changed from explaining to acting like a liar.

Eleanor's expression instantly turned ugly. Her mouth gaped open, her eyebrows went from furrowed to raised, and her eyes widened as if she had witnessed some unforgivable crime.

She stood up abruptly, almost dropping the pot in her arms. After a couple of wobbles, she grabbed it and used her right hand to snatch the leaf from Sirius's hand.

Sirius reacted quickly, raising his hand above his head.

He was more than half a head taller than Eleanor, with long arms, and when he raised his hand to its highest point, leaves swayed on his fingertips.

Eleanor stood on tiptoe to reach it, but couldn't reach it. She jumped twice more, but still couldn't reach it.

She stomped her foot in anger, her heel hitting the greenhouse floor tiles with a dull thud that could be heard even through the glass, and her earmuffs vibrated twice.

Regulus watched this scene with a smirk playing on his lips.

Eleanor changed her strategy and stopped jumping around.

She placed the pot she was holding on the planting trough next to her, freeing her hands. With one hand, she grabbed Sirius's raised wrist and pulled it down, while with the other hand, she reached over and pressed down on Sirius's face.

Sirius's head was tilted to the side, his hand still wouldn't let go, and his mouth was squeezed out of shape by the heel of her palm, making indistinct noises, probably saying "Stop messing around, stop messing around."

He pressed down on Eleanor's head with his other hand and pushed her back.

Eleanor's head was pressed back by him, her hands were still grabbing wildly in the air, and when she couldn't grab the leaves, she slapped his arm, making a loud slapping sound.

The two of them were tangled together.

Eleanor angrily shook off his hand and jumped back.

The two heads, each wearing earmuffs, were not far apart, gesturing at each other and their mouths were moving rapidly, but neither could understand what the other was saying.

Regulus stood outside the glass, finding it amusing.

Whether they forgot or did it on purpose, neither of them pulled out their wands from beginning to end.

Regulus watched patiently for a while, arms crossed.

The dispute in the greenhouse continues.

Eleanor clearly failed to grab the leaf, so she stopped, stood there with her hands on her hips, and her mouth moving rapidly.

I couldn't hear her voice through the glass wall, but judging from the speed of her lip movements and the expression on her face, she was probably cursing.

Wearing earmuffs while swearing, the person involved had no idea how loud they were speaking; the greenhouse glass was buzzing.

Sirius stuffed the leaf into his robe pocket, pressed his hands against the pocket to protect it, and his expression changed from smug to a little guilty.

It was rare for him not to talk back. He moved his mouth a couple of times, as if he wanted to say something but then swallowed it back. He occasionally made a couple of hand gestures, probably trying to explain, but it was obviously useless.

Eleanor's rant was so fluent that she didn't even pause for breath, and her speech became faster and faster.

He poked Sirius's chest with his finger, then back to his face, and with each poke he took a half-step back.

He took three or four steps back, his back against the edge of the planting trough, with nowhere left to retreat.

He had a crooked smile on his face, with the corner of his mouth turned up to one side and his eyebrows lowered, probably trying to appear indifferent, but the crooked curve was a bit off, giving off a slightly ingratiating vibe.

Then Eleanor withdrew her hand.

She picked up the basin in her arms, turned to leave, and a few stray hairs in her hair fluttered in the sunlight.

He took two steps, then turned back, raised his hand, took off one earmuff, and said something.

Through the glass, Regulus could only see the shape of her mouth.

Sirius's expression changed from guilty to bewildered. He opened his mouth, as if to say something.

Eleanor had put her earmuffs back on, snorted, turned and strode away, the hem of her yellow robe billowing to the sides with each step.

As I walked out of the door of greenhouse number three and turned towards the tool shed, my figure disappeared behind the corner of the greenhouse complex.

Sirius stood in front of the planting trough, his hands still on his pockets, staring blankly at the direction Eleanor had disappeared for a long while.

Then he grinned in the direction Eleanor had gone, shrugged, muttered something to himself, and followed her out.

Regulus stood outside the glass for a while, a smirk playing on his lips.

These two are quite interesting.

Eleanor Bornes, Hufflepuff, a pureblood, a respected pureblood family known for its justice and integrity.

Her brother, Edgar Burns, the current head of the family, joined the Order of the Phoenix in the 1970s and was one of its core members. He and his wife were killed by Death Eaters during the First Wizarding War.

He was brave and skilled in battle, and was praised by Mad-Eye Moody as a true warrior.

Her sister, Amelia Bornes, was known for her impartiality.

He served as the Director of the Department of Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic in 1996 and was one of the few truly impartial and capable officials within the Ministry. He was murdered by Voldemort in July 1996.

This family all stood on the right side, and they all paid the price for it.

He had met many pure-blooded people since enrolling, and Eleanor was the most direct one among them.

She never beats around the bush; her unhappiness is written all over her face, and her happiness is equally evident. When she smiles, a canine tooth is revealed, showing her straightforwardness.

He carries an undisguised kindness and curiosity, treating everyone the same—generous and frank.

This kind of personality might not be unusual in other houses, but it's quite typical in Hufflepuff: sincere, down-to-earth, and unpretentious.

But when they get angry, even Gryffindor might not be able to control them.

Sirius couldn't be subdued.

Sirius Black was never short of people surrounding him. He had a large following of Gryffindor admirers, and those who dared to throw dung bombs in the corridors always had a natural attraction for the young wizard.

Not to mention his close friends, James Potter and he were birds of a feather, and the two of them could turn anything into a prank.

Lupin was his friend and his conscience, and he would pull Lupin back before Lupin did something outrageous.

Peter followed him, admired him, and tried to imitate him, though he didn't quite do it quite right.

These people were his friends, and they stood with him, but they were not like Eleanor.

Eleanor certainly didn't admire him, and judging from her demeanor just now, she didn't dislike him either. If she really disliked him, she wouldn't have jumped up and pressed her hand against his face; she could have just knocked him down with her wand, wouldn't that have been better?

She just couldn't stand him stealing her leaves, so she confronted him and cursed him whenever she felt the need to. In her eyes, he was just a thieving bastard.

This is the kind of person Sirius Black is most lacking.

Those around him either looked up to him or were hostile to him, but none of them would poke his chest with their fingers.

Nobody treated him like an ordinary person, but Eleanor did, and that's good enough.

Regulus crossed his arms, rubbed his chin, and suddenly felt a pang of emotion.

In the blink of an eye, Sirius Black is already fifteen years old.

The little boy who kicked over the blocks he had built in Grimoire Square and then knelt down to help him rebuild them is now stealing mandrake leaves from other girls.

During puberty, a time when hormones are raging, you might jump around and act recklessly for a girl, completely clueless and without even knowing what you're doing.

The act of plucking leaves may not have any particular meaning in itself; he does need those leaves, and the Animagus's preparation steps are there for all to see.

But he could ask someone else for it, he could go to Diagon Alley to buy it himself, or he could write a letter and have his family send it.

He didn't choose any of those. He chose Eleanor's little bonsai, he chose being poked in the chest and scolded by her, he chose to grin and show his teeth after being scolded, and then come back next time.

Growing up happens so fast, so fast that he sometimes still thinks of Sirius as that little boy who can never stay still.

There's a saying—

One cannot be aware of youth while simultaneously possessing youth.

It's only when it's over and we look back that we realize it was youth.

He shook his head. It sounded a bit sentimental, but the logic was sound.

Forget it, let the young people handle their own affairs.

He looked away and turned to walk towards the castle.

Regulus removed the illusion spell, and his form reappeared in the sunlight.

He walked along the path by the Black Lake toward the castle. The lake shimmered in the sunlight, and in the distance, several younger Gryffindors were skipping stones on the water.

He hadn't decided whether to go to the library or the Requirement Room in the afternoon when a shout came from behind him.

"Regrus!"

Eleanor.

He had sensed it long ago; the little witch had probably come out from the direction of the greenhouse, and when she saw him here, she came running over angrily, her steps quick and heavy, her voice filled with rage.

He found it somewhat amusing, but didn't show it on his face. He stopped, adjusted his expression, and turned his head away.

Eleanor was running toward him, still clutching the pot of mandrake in her arms, one earmuff dangling from her neck.

Her light brown hair was tied into a loose bun, and as she ran, stray hairs fell out from her ears and clung to her cheeks.

Hufflepuff's yellow-trimmed robe swayed rhythmically, her face flushed, her breathing rapid, and her chest heaving.

She stopped in front of him, took a few breaths, then raised her head, her expression righteous and indignant, her eyebrows furrowed, her lips turned down, and she looked righteous.

"Your brother plucked my leaves again!"

Regulus looked at her, thought for a moment, and decided not to defend Sirius.

That's really unethical. If you're going to steal, at least go to a few different places. To grab one pot and pluck it all out is just so immoral.

He spoke gently and slowly: "How many pieces?"

"Three pieces!"

Eleanor's voice suddenly rose, and the basin in her arms trembled: "Four pieces last time! Seven pieces in total! And this semester has only just begun!"

Her face was full of resentment, her eyes were wide open, and her nostrils were flaring as if she were about to breathe fire.

Regulus glanced at the basin in her arms, then at the direction of the greenhouse. Sirius was long gone; he must have slipped away through some door.

He looked at Eleanor, his expression relaxed, a slight smile playing on his lips: "Want me to teach him a lesson for you?"

Eleanor was taken aback, clearly not expecting him to say that. She stared at him with her mouth agape, then looked him up and down with suspicion.

Regulus's lips were still curved in a smile.

Eleanor squinted. Was this guy smiling?

Regulus quickly regained his serious expression, his tone earnest and sincere: "Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

Eleanor scoffed, still somewhat doubtful: "You won't side with him?"

Regulus adopted the same righteous expression and said firmly, "Stealing is wrong. I will tell him that he can trade whatever he wants."

He paused after speaking, seemingly lost in thought, then looked at Eleanor and asked, "Eleanor, what do you like?"

Eleanor's expression turned confused: "What?"

"What do you like?" Regulus repeated, his tone sincere. "If he's going to trade something with you, he has to know what you like."

""

Eleanor opened her mouth, then closed it again.

She looked at Regulus's face; his expression was very sincere, his eyes very serious, his tone very frank, and everything about him very proper.

But she just felt that things were going in a strange direction.

She just came to complain, to stop her brother from stealing her leaves, how did it turn into exchanging something? Exchanging what? What are they exchanging? Who's exchanging with whom?

Her mind raced, but she couldn't figure it out, so she simply ignored it and shut her mouth.

Regulus saw that she didn't speak and didn't press her for details.

Ultimately, it's up to the young people to handle their own affairs.

He really wanted to ask why Sirius Black didn't pluck other people's leaves but only hers, what her expression would be, and how he should respond.

It will probably be very interesting.

But he held back.

No.

I couldn't resist.

"Eleanor," he said casually, his eyes kind, "have you thought about it?"

"Um?"

Why does Sirius only pluck your leaves?

Eleanor froze instantly, opened her mouth, and then her face turned red.

From the neck upwards, the redness spread to the ears, then to the cheeks, and finally even the ends of the hair looked like they were on fire.

She squinted, clenched her teeth, and forced out a sentence through gritted teeth: "Does he think I'm easy to bully?!"

Regulus choked for a moment.

He wanted to say that wasn't what he meant, but he opened his mouth and then closed it again.

Looking at Eleanor's face, at the burning fighting spirit in her eyes, at how it only took her a second to go from blushing to gritting her teeth—

It seems like this isn't so bad?

He coughed lightly.

Eleanor stared at him, her eyes wide, a cold smile curving her lips and revealing her canine tooth.

Then her eyes narrowed, a flame of vengeance igniting within them: "Tell him that if he touches my mandrake again, I'll wand him a lesson!"

Regulus looked at her expression and couldn't help but smile slightly.

He nodded seriously: "Don't worry, I will convey the message truthfully."

Impossible, he won't say a word.

Eleanor snorted again, clutched the basin in her arms tighter, raised her chin, and turned to leave with a fierce determination.

After taking a few steps, her pace quickened and became more hurried, her light brown hair bun swaying behind her head as if she were rushing to a battlefield.

Regulus watched her retreating figure for a while, the corners of his mouth still turned up, unable to wipe them away.

Baruch poked his head out of the inner pocket, tilted his spider-like head, looked in the direction Eleanor had gone, and then looked at his chin.

The chelicerae clicked.

Regulus glanced down at it: "That witch will probably be surnamed Black from now on."

Baruch clicked, not understanding, and shrank back.

He turned and walked towards the castle, the sunlight shining warmly on the stone path.