Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 393 Time to See Dumbledore

The little elf removed the hot dishes and replaced them with dessert and after-dinner drinks.

Narcissa poured herself and Lucius a glass each, and Regulus's sparkling water was also refilled.

Lucius took a sip of his drink and naturally changed the subject to what was happening outside.

"I've been busy lately," he said, swirling his wine glass with barely suppressed excitement. "That official rarely shows his face. He mostly delegates tasks to his subordinates while he's busy with his own affairs outside."

They don't tell us where they go or what they do. Even I don't know where they are. Sometimes when a message comes through, it has to go through two or three intermediaries.

Regulus listened, holding his sparkling water, his expression unchanged.

Voldemort distanced himself from the outside world, leaving the recruitment of soldiers to Lucius and his men, and personally handled the matter. This was something that no one else could do, nor could anyone else be allowed to know about it.

All that expansion and recruitment is just setting the stage for Voldemort right now; it's never what he truly cares about.

What he truly cared about was living longer than everyone else, being immortal, and transcending.

The path to immortality requires him to walk every step himself. The creation, storage, and protection of the Horcruxes are all matters that no one else is allowed to touch.

Regulus replied casually, "If it's something that requires that lord to handle personally, it must be something important."

Lucius nodded, probably taking this as agreement, and Regulus also felt that the lord was planning something big.

This is exactly what Lucius wants to hear, and it's the message he wants to convey tonight.

He was close to that person and had access to all sorts of information. By standing with him, he wouldn't miss any developments.

But Regulus read another layer: Voldemort did not truly trust the Malfoys, Lucius, or Abraxas.

He does the core work all by himself.

Lucius thought he was in the know, but he hadn't even touched the edge of the circle.

"Last month, there was a Muggle village in the Little Hangleton area that was completely wiped out overnight, leaving behind a batch of inibos."

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In Lucius's view, this was fantastic news.

The massacre of an entire village of Muggles and the creation of a batch of Shadow Corpses were signs of accumulating power and preparing for a serious attack. They had waited a long time for this day to finally arrive.

He put down his wine glass, his eyes shining, his words filled with smug satisfaction: "After so many years of forbearance, after so many years of betting, this is what I've been waiting for. The good days for purebloods are yet to come."

Regulus nodded along with him, but his thoughts were quite different.

It's true that Voldemort wanted to accumulate power, but it's not worth it for him to slaughter an entire village to do so.

Killing an entire village of Muggles and creating a batch of Infernals is nothing to him.

Corpses are afraid of fire, so what respectable wizard wouldn't set fire to them?

Aside from scaring Muggles and creating some panic, it's not very useful on the front lines.

However, it is suitable for defending things in restricted terrain.

Regulus took a sip of the water, and pale blue light exploded in his mouth, sliding down his throat.

Little Hangton, where the Riddle family's old house is located, and the Gaunt family's ancestral home is also nearby.

The image flashed through his mind: a cave by the sea, a corpse floating in the water.

Judging by the timing, perhaps this batch of Yin corpses was prepared for that cave.

It's quite a coincidence that he always felt a connection to that place.

That's where he was destined to be, the place he was promised to be; I'd really like to go and see it.

Let's wake up those corpses and see if we can pull him down.

Or take it a step further and let house-elves go in and out of that cave, but of course, not your own.

He glanced at Lucius, an interesting thought popping into his head.

Your little sprite is pretty good; it's well-trained and obedient. One day, find a reason to put one in there, and then let you know what's inside.

Then we'll see if you, this respectable person, will pretend you don't know anything or go down with the flood.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts; these were just thoughts, at least for now, he could only think about them.

"Leave the werewolf mess to me," Lucius continued. "You saw it today; it's nothing major."

He curled his lip slightly, revealing undisguised disgust: "Just passing on a message. You can't reason with a beast. It's pointless and a waste of patience."

He took a sip of his drink: "The Giants are far away and things are difficult, so they sent old Avery."

Regulus listened quietly.

Werewolves, giants, and others—Voldemort is assembling an inhuman army.

Let Lucius manage the werewolves, let Avery run the giants, and assign different non-human species to different levels of Death Eaters for management.

When the day comes that all pretense of civility breaks down, these people will be the ones at the forefront, ready to die.

Werewolves are fierce, and giants are strong, but neither is very durable. However, they are useful for wearing down the Aurors' firepower and creating chaos.

Use them to flush, to fill, to shield the legitimate Death Eaters from the first wave; we won't care how many die.

It seems Voldemort's pace has quickened, and the smell of war is growing ever closer.

"Things have loosened up in the Ministry of Magic too," Lucius said, setting down his glass with an increasingly casual tone. "Now, several people in those positions are already on our side."

There are people passing on messages within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; some cases are reported and then shelved, with no follow-up.

He smiled and said, "Even the Dementors in Azkaban have relented and will respond when that person needs them."

Regulus held his cup but didn't reply.

The Ministry of Magic was infiltrated not just overnight; it was destined to happen from the day Mintham took office. A minister who constantly talks about neutrality will never see what his subordinates are doing.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is the core of law enforcement, and the Auror Office is located under this department.

The fact that people have entered this place means that the Aurors' movements can be leaked in advance, and important cases can be suppressed.

The most important thing is the Dementors; they're the real troublemakers compared to werewolves and giants.

Even if a werewolf giant is ferocious, a proper wizard can always escape using Apparition, Portkey, or other means, even if they can't defeat it.

But Dementors are different. They are immune to spells and physical attacks, and they can fly, making them hard to run from and even harder to stop.

If you really want to fight against it, there is only a guardian deity, and there are very few wizards in all of Britain who can release a guardian deity in physical form.

Fiendfire should have been able to burn it, but Regulus couldn't recall anyone having used Fiendfire to burn a Dementor.

His thoughts drifted for a moment: what would be left after a Dementor is burned?

Did the tattered clothes and everything underneath turn to ash, or did they simply vanish into thin air without even leaving a trace?

It had no physical form to begin with, and perhaps no one knows what was wrapped under that tattered robe.

Dementors live by sucking out people's happiness, draining the warmest part of their hearts, leaving only an empty shell.

It can also devour souls, extracting a person's soul entirely from their body.

The action itself is interesting; how is the soul pulled out of the skin?

What did the little bit of stuff that was pulled out become once it entered its body?

Dementors have brains, but they're not very good at using them.

If a person were to transform into an animal, it would become blind, recognizing only humans and not animals.

Regulus continued his thought process.

Does it only suck up humans, or does it suck up any living thing with a soul and the capacity for joy?

What if we put a fairy in it? What about a centaur?

He even thought of Aragog, did that guy enjoy mating? Could you suck on it?

Or think of it the other way around: Hermes doesn't seem to be happy, so could we let the Dementors suck some of his pleasure?

He could always suck something out; perhaps after sucking it out, Hermes would know whether he was truly happy or not.

He put the idea aside; now was not the time to study Dementors, because they were unavailable—it seemed there were no wild ones.

Lucius glanced at Narcissa before continuing, "I saw Bella a while ago."

He brought this up intentionally. There's no need to elaborate on what happened between Regulus and Bella. By proactively sharing Bella's recent situation, he was both showing goodwill and keeping everyone informed.

"It's different from before. He talks less, and he's very quiet."

Narcissa paused, her hand holding the dessert fork still, and glanced up at Lucius.

Lucius protected her, and usually kept these matters from her. He had never mentioned Bella's recent situation to her.

This was the first time Narcissa had heard it said in front of Regulus.

A flicker of worry crossed her eyes, but after glancing at Regulus, the worry vanished.

She lowered her eyes, poked at the dessert on her plate, her fingers tightening and loosening on the fork handle, without saying anything.

Lucius took her hand, Narcissa looked over, Lucius nodded slightly, and Narcissa pursed her lips, everything understood without words.

Regulus observed all of this but said nothing.

Bella has quieted down, which is a good thing.

She hated him, that's for sure, but even the fierce Bella was nothing special.

He's truly fanatical, but not very capable; he fights fiercely, but he's easily defeated.

He never paid any attention to Bella.

But if she calms down, it's a different story.

Just hearing what Lucius said made Bella, who was usually quiet and unassuming, seem even more intriguing than before.

Her fervor has always been her driving force; she pours all her energy outward, and the more fiercely she pours it out, the more it shows that she has nothing else in her heart.

She's stopped splashing now; perhaps something is being taken back inside.

The only person who could calm down someone like Bella was Voldemort. Perhaps through his personal training, her loyalty and faith were effective in Voldemort's eyes.

He was even looking forward to their next meeting; it might be quite interesting.

"She's always by that man's side," Narcissa suddenly spoke, changing the subject, her voice soft, "She won't lack for food or clothing."

She gestured to the elf: "Bring another sweet dish, this jelly is getting cold."

Lucius smiled at her and didn't say anything more about Bella.

Narcissa asked Regulus a few more questions about school, asking if he had any girls he was interested in.

Regulus shook his head and glanced at Lucius. Lucius's eyes widened slightly, not understanding why Regulus was looking at him. Narcissa also looked at Lucius, her eyes narrowing slightly.

The meal lasted until late at night.

Regulus rose to take his leave, and Lucius saw him off at the manor gate. The night wind swept across the lawn, carrying the distinctive bitter scent of the trimmed yew hedges.

"Come again next time." Lucius tapped his cane to his side, his posture casual.

Regulus nodded, Apparated, and vanished into the night with a snap.

In Grimmauld Place, the lights were off, the curtains were drawn, and only the embers in the fireplace glowed with a dark red light.

Baruch rolled over on the pillow, belly up, kicked his eight legs in the air twice, then rolled back over, his dark red bristles gleaming faintly in the darkness.

Regulus was also lying in bed.

Lucius thought he was sharing good news.

Voldemort personally handled matters outside, which meant he was planning something big. Slaughtering villages and creating Infernals was to accumulate power. Collecting giants, werewolves, and Dementors one by one was to expand his military.

The Ministry of Magic's infiltration has been going on for a long time; it's no secret. But this time Lucius went into more detail: the Department of Magical Law Enforcement even had people infiltrated the Auror offices.

From marginal, sinecure positions to crucial departments, the Ministry of Magic has been eroded from within.

He used these as bargaining chips, thinking he was in the right place and that the Malfoys had made the right bet, but he didn't even know how far he was from the real core.

War is not far off, in a year, or perhaps even less.

Regulus didn't feel pressured; he was simply keeping track of the time.

He recalled the werewolves in Yorkshire, thirty or forty of them, and still growing, with Graybuck as their leader.

The beast didn't even dare to raise its claws in front of him, but if it were a different person, an ordinary wizard, or a Muggle village, it would be a completely different story.

Cruel, bloodthirsty, bites one and it becomes another.

Dumbledore should have known that Voldemort had such a force at his disposal.

This message would be quite appropriate to deliver to Dumbledore.

They don't act as heroes or champions, nor do they choose sides between right and wrong. In the end, they're just werewolves.

While the Black family outwardly sided with Voldemort, they always had to leave themselves an out in the dark.

We need to nurture Dumbledore's storyline, making sure that old man owes him something, we might need it later.

This is what he wants.

Besides, I learned a lot from Graybury today.

That empty house, that silent engulfing, separated two things, yet forced one of them to retreat.

Whether what was planted in Hufflepuff will grow or not remains to be seen, as one full moon after another approaches.

It was Dumbledore's guidance outside the Shrieking Shack that enabled him to awaken his soul.

Today he figured out something new: the matter of light and darkness. Perhaps the two things don't have to be life and death.

One can rise while the other falls, one can advance while the other retreats. When it reaches its peak, it retreats again, and when it retreats to its peak, it rises again. They go around in circles, neither can live without the other, and neither can devour the other.

This idea is still too crude; it needs someone with profound insight to examine it and see if these conclusions hold water.

Dumbledore represents the ultimate, the light.

He actually wanted to talk to Voldemort, to try and get to know him from the shadows, but that was obviously not an option now.

In that case, finding an old man will do.

Place your thoughts under the brightest light and see what is real and what is illusory.

He twitched the corner of his mouth.

The pretext is readily available; it's time to go see Dumbledore.

I'm going back to school tomorrow. I took two days off, so it's time to cancel them.

Ultimately, he is still a student.

Baruch rolled over and buried his head in the pillow.

Regulus drew the curtains, a section of the embers in the fireplace collapsed, the dark red light flashed one last time, and then went out.

go to bed.