Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 371 Slick and Glossy Snape

In the evening, Regulus left the library, preparing to go to the auditorium for dinner.

Snape stood in the darker corner of the corridor.

It's the same spot. The last time he turned completely black, he waited here to report on Rabastan Lestrange's situation.

It's been almost a month since school started, and Snape still hasn't shown up.

Two contracts, one for Silvermoon Apothecary and the other for Bobins Herbal and Potions, were looming before him at Christmas, and the thirty-day deadline for a response had already passed.

Regulus hadn't paid attention to this matter, but Snape would definitely choose it. Given his situation and his urgency for the present, he had no reason not to choose; it was just a matter of which one to choose.

Bobbins, on the surface, has no connection with the Black family.

Snape earned the contract through his own abilities; he was highly talented and lucky. Others could only envy him and perhaps grumble a few words.

His pride could be preserved, his self-esteem could be maintained; he, Severus Snape, relied on his abilities.

Silver Moon, a long-established shop in Diagon Alley, has been open for almost a hundred years.

Anyone who has worked in the British potions industry knows that Silvermoon is a Black family business, a brand passed down through generations.

Choosing Silvermoon means siding with Black; anyone with eyes can see that.

Given the current situation, no one might say anything if Silvermoon is chosen.

After the Christmas dinner, countless pure-blood families wanted to get close to Black but couldn't find a way, yet Snape, a poor half-blood, was able to make that connection.

There will be more sarcastic remarks, but that's about it.

Regulus could roughly guess what Snape was struggling with.

He was arrogant enough to believe that with his potion-making talent, his future would be bright no matter what.

The path to becoming a Potions Master is laid out before him. Once he reaches that point and stands at the top of the industry, who will remember that he grew up in Spider's End wearing ill-fitting robes?

That was simply the path he had taken.

But he was also insecure enough; he knew his current situation all too well. His potion-making talent was something for the future.

Now he was that poor Snape, wearing an old robe that had been worn for years, the collar frayed, a down-on-his-luck lad from Spider's End.

He has the ability to succeed in the future, but not enough to change anything now.

Snape is here. His arrogance makes him feel that he shouldn't depend on anyone, while his inferiority complex makes him realize that he can't change his current predicament without relying on others.

The two forces twisting together are what make Snape so conflicted.

Choosing Silver Moon, in his own view, was tantamount to becoming dependent on it.

Even if the conditions are good, even if the profit sharing is high, even if Blake offers the most generous supplier treatment in the entire British potions industry, so what?

By using the name Silvermoon, one is essentially using Black's label. When his works are sold, people will first think of Silvermoon Apothecary, and only secondly of him, Severus Snape.

With his pride, he couldn't swallow it, but with his inferiority complex, he knew he had no choice but to swallow it.

There's also the issue of Lestrange.

Choosing Silvermoon would mean that if Lestrange still had the resources to pursue the matter, he, a half-blood with no background, would be the first to be eliminated.

Choosing Bobbins is at least safe; on the surface, he has no connection with Blake, and no one can find anything out by investigating.

So he needs to find out what's going on with Lestrange first.

But Snape's family was so poor they couldn't even afford a newspaper subscription, so he had to stay cooped up in Spider's End during the holidays, completely unaware of what was happening outside.

Until the start of the school year, Snape saw everything from the corner.

He stayed on the edge of the crowd all night, unnoticed by anyone, while he observed everyone else.

But he didn't act immediately. He began to observe Rabastan, who was still in school, but was completely different from before.

Last semester, Rabastan was surrounded by a group of people, walked with a swagger, and acted like a little leader in the Slytherin common room.

Now that his followers have all dispersed, when he ran into Rabastan in the corridor, he walked with his head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

He used to sit in the middle of the Slytherin table and talk very loudly, but now he sits at the end of the table, eats without saying a word, and leaves as soon as he finishes.

Rabastan is trying to make himself invisible.

The fact that a Lestrange has reached this point in Slytherin speaks volumes.

Snape watched for a week, then another week, and finally confirmed that he wasn't faking it, and that there was no bigger commotion behind him.

The threat posed by the Lestrange family, at least within Hogwarts, no longer exists.

With the risk resolved and the contract still waiting for him, Snape signed the contract in his dormitory one evening—the Silvermoon Contract.

He came today.

From a distance, he still looked the same: a dark, thin figure with sallow skin, greasy hair hanging down on both sides of his face, and a gloomy expression.

Regulus took a few steps forward and noticed the difference.

The robe is new, and the material is much better than before; it's thicker and has a better drape.

The cuffs were neatly hemmed, the collar was flat and clean, and the hem length was finally right.

With her wrists and ankles completely covered, she was clad in pure black fabric, looking much more presentable than before.

But it's still black.

Pure black, from the collar to the hem, even the buttons are black. The whole person is still a little bat, only with a new fur coat that is a bit slick and shiny.

As Snape saw him approach, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze drifting to the other side of the corridor, his lips pursed, exuding an aura of "I just happened to be standing here."

Regulus's gaze swept over and saw a silver badge the size of a fingernail flashing in the lamplight at the fold of his collar.

Supplier certification for Silver Moon Pharmacy.

There are two certification systems in the potion industry.

Officially, it's the formal qualification from the Potions Masters Association.

Potions Master is a highly prestigious and genuine professional title in the British magical community.

Obtaining association certification is such a lengthy process that it deters most people.

To become a NEWT potion master, one must achieve an outstanding level and then submit an application to the association.

The exam covers three areas: basic potions, advanced potions, and experimental potions. If you fail any one of them, you have to start over.

Passing the exam isn't the end of the process. You must complete at least a two-year internship under the guidance of a registered potion master, submitting potion research reports and preparation records every quarter, which will be reviewed periodically by the association's review committee.

Only after passing all the tests can one obtain the gold certification badge engraved with the association's emblem and number, which can be openly worn on the outside of the robe.

The entire process would take at least five to six years after graduating from Hogwarts.

No more than twenty people in the entire UK receive official certification each year.

The Potions Department at St. Mungo's, the researchers at the Ministry of Magic's Potions Control Division, and the core members of various Potions Laboratories are mostly licensed Potions Masters.

Having this means status; it grants the ability to open a shop, be registered under someone's name, and serve as an advisor to the Ministry of Magic.

Snape was far from that point; he was only in third grade.

But Silvermoon has another system.

Silvermoon Pharmacy has been in Diagon Alley for almost a hundred years, a brand run by the Black family for generations.

Silvermoon's position in the British potions industry is based on its nearly 100 years of stable quality and stringent quality control standards.

Silvermoon's quality control is even stricter than the Potion Master Association's. The association is in charge of whether something can be sold, while Silvermoon is in charge of whether someone is worthy of being associated with Silvermoon.

Suppliers who pass Silvermoon's internal quality control will be awarded a small silver badge by Silvermoon.

It's small, inconspicuous, and nothing to the untrained eye.

But within the potions industry, this badge signifies recognition by the Silvermoon and endorsement by the Black family's nearly century-old reputation.

It represents quality, and also recognition from within the industry and from the most discerning customer base.

Many veteran potion makers with years of experience cannot pass Silvermoon's quality control.

Snape tucked it inside his robe, so that it was not visible from the outside when he stood normally.

He came to wait for Regulus wearing his new robe, and from this angle, in this pose, he made sure that anyone who approached could see the silver glint inside his collar.

He wanted Regulus to see it.

I've probably already figured it out: in certain situations, I'll subtly show it off in front of knowledgeable people.

Those who recognize this badge are certainly knowledgeable; most are pure-blooded, but there are also knowledgeable mixed-race or Muggle-born individuals outside the school.

Show this badge to those people, and without saying a word, the badge will speak for itself.

For Snape, this badge probably meant more than the new robe.

He wanted this so badly.

He wanted to be recognized, to have influence, and to be seen as someone with ability and status when he walked into a room, not just a poor guy from Spinner's End.

So he pinned it inside, unassuming and unassuming, only letting those who should see it see it when needed.

Regulus walked up to him.

Snape's expression didn't change much; his chin was slightly raised, and he looked stiff.

His voice was flat: "Blake."

Regulus replied, his voice even flatter: "Snape."

The two stared at each other for a moment in the shadows of the corridor.

Snape waited a few seconds, and seeing that Regulus didn't seem inclined to say anything more, he nodded slightly, turned, and left.

The dark shadow stretched long in the torchlight. The new robe was made of soft material, and the hem swayed gently with each step, making it look better than the old robe.

After walking a few steps, he turned the corner at the end of the corridor and disappeared.

Regulus stood there, watching the direction he had left in.

Snape chose the Silver Moon and leaned towards Black, but did not show it publicly, hiding the mark inside, making his choice half-hidden and half-revealed.

They made the choice, but maintained their independence and did not raise the flag.

I chose your side, but I am still myself, not your vassal.

Regulus didn't care.

In his eyes, Snape was never positioned as an outsider like Lena or Samuel.

Those two people depend on his system and operate within his framework; their potential depends on how much space he is willing to give them.

Snape was different; he was too proud, so proud that he had to retain a certain degree of autonomy.

But it doesn't matter, Regulus doesn't need him as a follower.

Severus Snape, a future Potions Master, is highly skilled in Dark Magic, adept at concealing his true intentions, and meticulous in his thinking. He is an extremely valuable asset.

If this cooperative relationship can be maintained in a proper way, his value far exceeds that of anyone else in the group.

Cooperation, value exchange, and clear rules.

Within this framework, Snape is at least treated as a person.

Compared to the insults and coercion he received from Lestrange, this was the best he could find in Slytherin.

Regulus looked away.

go to eat.

At 8 p.m., at the end of the fourth-floor corridor, in an abandoned classroom.

Regulus pushed open the door. The inside was the same as before, with tables and chairs pushed to the sides, clearing space in the middle, and a layer of wood flooring piled up.

Thin gray.

Moonlight streamed in through the high window, cutting several long, silvery-white stripes across the ground.

No one has ever been here.

Baruch jumped out of the inner pocket, his eight legs thumping under the table, where he curled himself into a dark red ball of fur.

Not long after, the door opened.

Lily stood at the door, slightly out of breath, her cheeks flushed, and a few strands of her red hair framing her face, looking a little disheveled.

When she saw him, her eyes crinkled and a smile bloomed on her face.

She was wearing a deep red Gryffindor robe with gold trim, and a scarf wrapped twice around her neck. Her nose was a little red from the cold, probably from running all the way from the tower.

She closed the door, turned to look at Regulus, tilted her head, and said in a clear, crisp voice with a rising tone at the end, "Professor Regulus."

Regulus put his hands behind his back, raised his chin slightly, and said in a serious tone, "Lily."

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