Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 379 Fenrir Graybuck

Regulus and Dumbledore had a conversation on a full moon night in the Screaming Shack, watching Lupin transform from a man into a wolf and back into a man under the moonlight.

Besides saying werewolves are ugly, there's a deeper discussion about whether Occlumency can control werewolf transformations.

Dumbledore told him that the essence of werewolf transformation is internal transformation, not external invasion.

Magic is changing, the body is changing, cognition is changing, and the brain shut-off technique can't deal with this.

Then Dumbledore said that will overrides instinct, and self-knowledge is the foundation of everything.

Shortly after that conversation, his soul was illuminated.

Come to think of it, he has a rather deep connection with werewolves.

The discussion about werewolves led to a conversation about will and instinct, which directly resulted in his breakthrough in the manifestation of his soul. As a result, his self-awareness became more solid, and he transitioned from Betelgeuse to Rigel.

Since then, he has occasionally wondered what a werewolf really is.

Is it a human who loses control for one night each month? Or a beast who recovers for one night each month?

When we define it, we are actually defining where the boundaries of humans are, where the boundaries of beasts are, and what exactly exists in the area where the two overlap.

Dumbledore said that the wizard's will must override his instincts, and his consciousness must take over a body that does not belong to him.

A wizard capable of this level of skill cannot be a werewolf, and werewolves can never reach that level.

But is it really impossible to reach it?

The vast majority of werewolves do not actually reach that point; their living conditions are too harsh.

Being rejected by society, abandoned by relatives, living a life of hiding, and not even receiving a complete basic education, how can one have the conditions to develop a strong spirit?

But what if a werewolf received systematic magical training from childhood, had enough resources and environment to practice Occlumency, and then tried to use willpower to override instinct?

In theory, the source of bestiality lies in the magical transformation triggered by the full moon. The brain-sealing technique cannot stop this transformation itself, but what if one's will is strong enough to remain conscious during the transformation?

It can even make the will strong enough to cover this internal transformation, without suppressing the beastly nature from the outside, but directly making the will itself the structure, so that the beastly nature cannot find a gap to invade.

The body changes, but the consciousness does not change; the human will rides on the body of the beast.

There's a little werewolf in the school, Lupin, but he's someone Dumbledore protects, so you can't touch him.

Having designs on Lupin would be tantamount to going against Dumbledore; there's no need for that.

Graybury was different.

Fenrir Greyback, the largest of the werewolves, is the most extreme example if there is one representative of werewolves.

In stark contrast to Lupin, Lupin suppressed his animalistic instincts, hated his werewolf identity, and tried his best to be a normal human wizard.

Greyback embraces his animalistic nature, enjoys transforming, actively bites people, and uses his werewolf identity as a source of power.

Even in his human form, he retained many bestial characteristics, including sharp teeth, claw-like nails, and a bloodthirsty tendency.

He is also aggressive when the moon is not full. Although he has not fully transformed, his combat power in human form far exceeds that of an ordinary wizard.

His bestial nature was not confined to the cage of the full moon night; it permeated daily life, human form, and every part of Greyback as a human being.

From a spiritual perspective, Greyback is perhaps the werewolf whose humanity and bestiality coexist most deeply.

Other werewolves alternate between two states: when the moon is full, they are beasts; when the moon is past its full phase, they are humans.

Greyback disrupted this alternation, allowing animalistic instincts to prevail, and humanity may no longer be the dominant force.

How did he manage to do it? Was it an innate tendency? Or was it decades of indulgence and embracing that allowed his animalistic instincts to slowly expand their territory?

Or perhaps, after a certain point, bestiality has completely overwhelmed humanity, leaving only a wolf in human skin, or perhaps, a beast that still thinks it is human?

This is a live sample.

Lupin is a protected cub, untouchable.

Greyback was a fully unleashed adult wild werewolf, the most savage henchman in Voldemort's camp. No one protected him, and there was no reason why he couldn't be touched.

A live sample, the perfect size.

He wanted to see for himself what the magical structure of a life form dominated by bestiality looked like, and what the state of its mental world was.

How exactly do humanity and animality coexist within him, or rather, is coexistence even possible?

Regulus snapped out of his thoughts, looked at Lucius, and a slight smile curved his lips: "When?"

Lucius's eyes lit up for a moment, a fleeting look of satisfaction crossing them, before his tone returned to its elegant composure: "Anytime."

Regulus thought for a moment: "Come to Grimmauld Place tomorrow morning, and we'll walk together."

Lucius nodded decisively: "Okay, what time?"

Nine o'clock.

Lucius extended his hand, his tone regaining its usual reserve, a faint smile playing on his lips: "Thank you."

Regulus grasped it, a faint smile playing on his lips: "You're welcome."

You seem to have achieved your goal, but I'll never lose out.

The two released their grip, Lucius took a step back, tapped his cane lightly on the ground, turned around, and walked towards Narcissa.

After Lucius walked away, Regulus stood under the yew tree, watching his retreating figure.

The Blakes had mostly left; occasionally, one or two dark figures would flash through the gaps between the yew trees and then disappear.

The muffled thuds of apparitions came from outside the tree wall, the intervals growing longer and longer.

Narcissa was walking this way, passing Lucius. The two simply nodded to each other without stopping to talk.

Her skirt brushed against the withered grass as she walked up to Regulus, glanced at him, and then looked back at the direction Lucius had gone.

Her gaze fell back on Regulus, filled with worry. She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

She had heard of Greyback; that werewolf's ways were enough to make any normal person uneasy.

She knew Regulus had agreed, and she also knew that Regulus didn't need her to worry; her concerns wouldn't become an obstacle.

She simply whispered, "Be careful."

Regulus looked at her, relaxed, and nodded: "Don't worry."

Narcissa took a step forward, reached out and hugged him gently, just for a moment, and then let go.

She took a half step back, nodded to Regulus, and then walked away towards Lucius, who was waiting in the distance.

Lucius reached out his hand, and Narcissa placed it on his. The two walked toward Abraxas, then Apparated and disappeared behind the yew tree.

Regulus turned and walked toward Sirius.

Sirius stood in a gap between several yew trees, his hands in his pockets, looking very grumpy.

He stared at the spot where Lucius and Narcissa had disappeared into the distance, his eyes slightly narrowed, his brows furrowed deeply, and the corners of his mouth pressed down sharply.

Regulus walked up to him, and Sirius finally turned his gaze back to Sirius's face, giving him a disapproving look.

"What did you say?" Sirius's tone wasn't exactly harsh, but it certainly wasn't pleasant.

Regulus looked at him calmly, without answering.

Without waiting for Regulus's reply, he immediately asked, "What's the point of talking to someone like that?"

Those kinds of people, Malfoy, Death Eaters, Voldemort's lackeys, pure-blood nobles who wear fine clothes, speak politely, and have filthy hands.

Sirius's expression wasn't just one of disgust; he had just been interacting easily with Narcissa and almost laughed, but now all that was gone.

There was a lot churning in his gray eyes.

He had just seen Regulus and Lucius walk aside alone, like two adults having a conversation.

That image instantly reminded him of Regulus, or rather, Black, or rather, the Black who stood on Voldemort's side.

He had almost forgotten about it.

The easing of tensions, the growing closeness, the playful banter on Hogsmeade Road, the stubborn height comparisons, the boasting about learning Apparition, the occasional casual chats, the lighthearted teasing—

These warm, normal, and brotherly feelings turned off a certain alarm in his head, and he began to feel that his younger brother was just his younger brother.

Sirius Black had been avoiding the question in his mind.

After the relationship eased, he chose not to think about it, not about what would happen to Regulus in the future, not about the Black family's position on Voldemort's side, and not about those black robes and silver masks.

Regulus walking with him, bickering with him, comparing heights with him—these scenes were so normal that he felt everything else could be ignored.

But now it has reappeared.

The future he feared—the image of Regulus in his black robes, standing behind Voldemort—never disappeared.

He thought Regulus was different from him, and indeed he was. Although he didn't want to admit it, the fact was that Regulus was more clear-headed, smarter, and stronger than him.

But being clear-headed and intelligent does not mean not participating.

Sirius's logic used to be very simple: reject what's bad and do what's right.

Voldemort is bad, Death Eaters are bad, it's wrong to associate with them, just refuse to go near them.

But Regulus had told him about power and choice.

He realized that the things he had discarded—responsibility, family, the expectations of purebloods, Voldemort's attention—had not disappeared; they had all fallen upon Regulus.

Sirius understands this now, at least much more than before.

So he didn't explode like before, he didn't yell, he didn't throw things, he didn't curse, he didn't turn around and leave, and he didn't tell you to stand with those damn lunatics and put on that damn black robe.

He simply stared at Regulus, his lips pressed tightly together, his brows furrowed, his gaze so complex it seemed unlike him.

Regulus looked at Sirius's face and knew what he was thinking.

He used to get annoyed, yell, and say hurtful things, but now he doesn't yell anymore.

He was asking questions, trying to figure out what had happened. He stopped starting with "Why are you talking to that kind of person?" and started asking specific questions.

Improved.

Being able to refrain from losing your temper, and choosing to think rather than fight when you don't understand something—that's progress.

The relationship eased and people became closer, but these warm feelings were like a thin layer of snow, covering the cracks underneath. The snow melted, but the cracks remained.

Regulus didn't plan to cover Sirius with snow anymore; there wasn't enough time.

In 1974 and 1975, as war drew ever closer, everyone faced choices.

Sirius will have to face this issue sooner or later: his brother, his family, and those who stand in different positions.

It's better for him to see things clearly sooner rather than later.

Sirius Black couldn't pretend forever that he was just his brother and not the heir to the Black family.

Their relationship has indeed improved, and they have become closer, but the fundamental problem remains and cannot be resolved in the short term.

What needs to be faced sooner or later, let him face it.

Abandon illusions and prepare for battle.

Regulus simply shook his head and said nothing.

Sirius's expression turned even uglier, and his face fell completely.

Shaking his head means he doesn't intend to explain, and not explaining means the answer is the one he already guessed.

Regulus was talking to Malfoy about the Black family's position and that circle.

Sirius stared at him for a long time.

His gray eyes held anger, helplessness, and a suffocating feeling of being forced underwater by reality.

Regulus's relationship with that side has never been severed. The ease and intimacy he felt recently were real, but Regulus is still Regulus.

Sirius turned around, said nothing, and walked away.

Regulus stood there, watching his retreating figure disappear into the yew tree's range, and shook his head slightly.

He followed behind, through the wall of yew trees.

Once outside the range of the anti-Apparition spell in the cemetery, Sirius was standing on a patch of withered grass, his hands still in his pockets, his back to him.

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