Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 403 The Good Age to Hold Your Urine

Upon returning from the Forbidden Forest, James complained of being hungry and led a few men to the kitchen near the Hufflepuff lounge.

The house-elves fluttered around them, as if afraid that the noble little wizards wouldn't have enough to eat, bringing out roasted potatoes, butter cookies, steak, pudding, pumpkin juice, and other dishes one by one.

James ate and drank quite a lot, and returned to his dorm with a full belly, then contentedly threw himself onto his bed.

Then I was woken up in the middle of the night by my bladder.

The curtains in the dormitory were not drawn, and moonlight streamed in through the high window, covering the floor with silvery glow.

James burrowed out of bed, his eyes still closed, and groped around on the floor for his slippers before instinctively reaching for the bathroom.

He had been walking this road for almost three years and could find it with his eyes closed. From the foot of the bed to the door, turn left at the end of the corridor, the door is on the right and the pit is on the left.

Never makes a mistake.

He had just stood up in his slippers when he looked up and saw a person standing by the window, with their back to him, motionless.

The moonlight outlined the person's silhouette with a silver edge, and their hair stood up in a messy, upright manner.

James squinted. Without his glasses, he was just a blurry, dark silhouette, but he knew those lines all too well.

He reached for his glasses on the bedside table, put them on his nose, and then looked up to find a large face right in front of him.

Less than two inches away from him, his eyes were wide open, his mouth was stretched to an abnormal angle, his tongue was crookedly resting on his lower lip, a pale yellow light shone from his chin upwards, and there were shadows under his eyes.

"—Ugh!"

James had barely uttered half a syllable when a hand covered his mouth, smearing it firmly against his lips.

Then his foot kicked out on its own, without thinking, purely out of the body's instinctive reaction to being frightened. His right foot slammed forward, hitting the other person squarely in the stomach.

The man groaned and rolled backward, clutching his stomach as he tumbled on the ground, curling up like a shrimp. He raised a finger at him, his mouth opening and closing, unable to speak from the pain.

Only then did James see clearly that it was Sirius.

He lay on his side on the ground, clutching his stomach, the strange expression on his face still not completely gone.

His lips were still twitching upwards, but his eyebrows were already furrowed together, a mixture of pain and laughter, making his whole face look even stranger.

He opened his mouth silently, his shoulders twitching, probably wanting to laugh but unable to, because he was really hurt by the kick.

James wasn't in the mood to appreciate his expression; he was facing a more pressing issue.

The sudden fright caused the bladder sphincter and abdominal muscles to receive a set of conflicting nerve signals simultaneously. The sympathetic nervous system caused them to contract, while the startle reflex caused them to relax.

At the age of fourteen, these muscles are usually quite obedient, but they couldn't withstand drinking too much pumpkin juice tonight, and the fright came too suddenly.

Willpower sometimes has no say when it comes to the sphincter muscles.

His bladder made a decision independent of his brain in that instant.

A few drops leaked.

James's expression changed instantly. Ignoring Sirius, who was still convulsing silently on the ground, he grabbed his pants and ran towards the door.

He ran halfway before turning back, grabbed the wand from the bedside table, glared at Sirius, and then rushed into the slumber room at the end of the corridor without looking back.

Sirius Black pushed himself up from the ground, rubbing his stomach. The kick he'd just received was real; James hadn't held back at all.

He grimaced and hissed, then saw James running away with his pants up, and suddenly realized what had happened.

He grinned and started laughing silently, his shoulders shaking with laughter. He was laughing but dared not make a sound, which made the muscles in his stomach ache even more.

He slowly got up and walked back to the window.

The moon was just hidden by clouds, but it has now reappeared, though a small part of it is missing. The full moon has been over for several days now.

Moonlight bathed the castle's stone walls, gilding the tower spires and crenellations with a silvery-grey hue.

The Black Lake shimmered with fragmented light in the distance, the withered grass swayed gently in the night breeze, and all was quiet under the sky.

He stared at the lake for a long time, his gaze not on any particular spot, nor on the moon.

There was a noise coming from the washroom. It was a very low sound, and it was hard to hear clearly after going around a few corners, but the syllables sounded familiar.

"Completely cleaned up."

Then he read it again, this time with even more force.

"Completely cleaned up!"

After a brief pause, footsteps came from the other end of the corridor.

James walked over, his face still showing signs of annoyance, his lips pursed, and his ears slightly red.

Sirius turned his head, his gaze lingering on Sirius's face for a moment before slowly moving down to his crotch.

James's face flushed instantly. He rushed over, bumped him with his shoulder, and yelled in a low voice, "What are you looking at?!"

Sirius was knocked to the side by the bump, his mouth still grinning. He chuckled for a while, then his expression slowly faded.

He turned back and looked out the window again.

James stood beside him, his chest still heaving, his anger lingering, yet he sensed something was amiss.

He glanced at Sirius.

Ever since we came back from the funeral the day before yesterday, this guy has been acting strangely. He just collapsed onto the bed, still wearing his black robe, and wouldn't say a word no matter what we asked.

It recovered yesterday, or at least it looks like it has.

When James saw Slytherin waiting outside the castle, he assumed James was doing what he always did, leading them to cause trouble for Slytherin.

They've done this kind of thing at least eighty or a hundred times. They go when they're in a good mood, and they go when they're in a bad mood. It's like eating in an auditorium all the time.

But something about yesterday's incident didn't seem right.

Sirius Black specifically sought out the group of people associated with that little viper, speaking in an exceptionally harsh tone and using particularly offensive language.

James felt something was wrong at the time, but since the fight had already started, he didn't think much of it.

Sirius did feel better after coming back; at least he wasn't as sullen as he was the night before, but he couldn't say he was really happy.

James wasn't stupid; he pieced things together from beginning to end.

Sirius was like a lost soul after returning from the funeral. Yesterday, he picked a fight with someone close to his brother. He felt a little better after the fight, but not completely better.

The conclusion is clear: it's because of that little poisonous snake.

James Potter, a third-year Gryffindor student, leader of the Marauders, and Sirius's best friend, felt he had to get involved in this matter.

If his brother is unhappy, that's his responsibility; he has to find a way to make his brother happy.

This is the duty of the leader.

James asked in a low voice, "What's wrong with you?"

Sirius glanced at him sideways, said nothing, and then turned back.

The moonlight outlined his profile as he gazed out the window.

"It's been like this ever since you came back the day before yesterday," James took a step closer to him, his voice low and his speech rapid, "You won't say anything when I ask you anything, and yesterday you went to see those people again—"

You want to beat them up, right? If you're angry, find somewhere to vent.

Sirius shrugged, neither admitting nor denying.

"That works too," James nudged his arm with his shoulder. "We've already beaten them up, so what? We'll ambush them again tomorrow and teach them a lesson."

Sirius interrupted him: "James."

James stopped talking, his brow furrowing slightly.

Sirius turned to look at him, the moonlight making his gray eyes bright, but without his usual energy.

It was something James rarely saw on his face: calmness, and confusion.

Sirius asked softly, "Tell me, what exactly is power?"

James was taken aback: "What?"

"Power," Sirius repeated, muttering to himself, as if asking James, or perhaps asking himself, "What do you think it is?"

James looked at him to make sure he wasn't joking.

This is such a strange question, and it's even stranger that it came from Sirius Black; they never talk about this.

Strength is fighting, and winning means you're powerful. What's the point of asking that?

He thought about it and came up with a very simple answer.

"A stronger spell, a faster reaction," James said matter-of-factly. "Whoever lands the spell on the other first wins, and the winner is the one with power."

Sirius looked at James, and images of the Christmas dinner flashed through his mind.

White and blue flames and black mist clashed in the Lestrange family's banquet hall. Metal spikes created by the Transfiguration spun at high speed and crashed into the black barrier, the aftershocks of the explosion shattering the entire wall.

The whip, formed from solidified flames, drew an arc in the air, and the loud bang of the whip tip exploding could be felt throughout the entire hall, making one's chest vibrate.

The two men moved swiftly between rubble and ruins, switching between offense and defense at high speed.

Those spells, which seemed deadly even from a distance, some silver, some purple, some unnamed, each carried an oppressive force that threatened to kill.

Finally, Bella knelt on the ruins, wailing. The magic seemed capable of damaging the soul. Regulus stood before her, his wand pointed at her.

He can still see that scene now, and he will probably never forget it for the rest of his life.

Those things were different from the stronger spells James had mentioned; they were completely different.

Sirius shook his head: "Some wizards, even if you hit them, it won't do any good."

"Then hit harder!" James didn't understand the meaning behind his words and thought he was just being stubborn.

"We have some at home. My dad has several spells locked in his study. He always says I'm too young to touch them, but if you need them, I'll go back and steal them. The Potter family's wealth can't be that bad, can it?"

Sirius looked at him; James was serious.

His eyes were always filled with the light that he could solve the problem, just like every time he gave them advice, every time he led them into trouble, and every time he took the blame upon himself.

He genuinely believed that an even more ruthless curse was the answer.

Sirius was feeling a surge of emotions, but he couldn't express them.

Seeing that he remained silent, James changed his approach: "If you're angry but don't want to fight again, I have another way."

He leaned closer to Sirius, his eyes gleaming: "Splash ink on their robes, sneak in at night, and freeze their sheets into ice cubes!"

At worst, my family has an ancestral curse that can make a person's shoes bite their toes, without anyone noticing. They'll definitely trip and fall flat on their face, and no one will ever find out who did it.

Sirius's lips twitched slightly, and his expression relaxed: "Never mind."

"How can you just let it go?" James demanded urgently. "What exactly are you going to do—"

'

He suddenly stopped, glanced at Sirius's expression, and swallowed back what he was about to say.

Sirius is like this because of that little snake, but he can't say, "I'll go and teach your brother a lesson."

He could curse the Black family, he could curse the Slytherins, he could curse those old purebloods, but he couldn't mention that little viper—he had known that for a long time.

Let's try a different approach.

"I'm serious," James leaned closer, "Just tell me if you want to get revenge."

"No."

"So what exactly are you—"

'

"James," Sirius turned to look at him, "some things can't be solved by just getting angry."

James opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say.

For the first time, he felt that something was separating him from his best friend, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He realized he didn't really know Sirius Black, the Sirius Black who stood by the window in the middle of the night, asking him what power really was, and saying that some things couldn't be solved by just venting.

He couldn't figure it out, and felt a tightness in his chest. His brother was unhappy, and he couldn't think of a solution, which made him feel terrible.

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

James's shoulders slumped, looking a little deflated: "I can't do this or that, so just tell me what to do. You're my brother, I can't just watch you like this."

Sirius lowered his eyes: "I know."

James kept asking because he wanted to help; he knew this.

He also knew that all James could think of were more vicious curses and more malicious pranks, because he had done the same before.

They used to curse the Blacks together, curse Slytherin together, and believe that as long as the spell was fast and powerful enough, any problem could be solved.

Now he knows it's not true, but he can't explain it to James because it's impossible to.

In the past, he would say anything, there was nothing he couldn't say. Now he knows that there are some things he can't say, and some things are useless to say anyway.

To him, saying nothing and saying something being useless are two different things, but to James, they are the same.

Moreover, he hadn't even managed to subdue Regulus's henchmen, so why should he drag Regulus out?

All those thoughts I had before seem to have become a joke.

"If you ask me," James suddenly perked up, "let's go find the Snotty One."

Sirius's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by this word: "Snape?"

"Snape!" James's eyes lit up again. "Let's ambush him! We'll be happy after we do!"

Sirius was about to shake his head when a voice came from behind him.

"What are you two doing up so late at night instead of sleeping?"

Both of them shuddered in fright.

Turning around, Lupin stood behind him, wearing pajamas, his hair disheveled, and his eyes half-closed in sleepiness.

He was probably woken up by the noise, or he may have woken up earlier; I wonder how long he'd been standing there.

He just stared at them, the moonlight making half his face look bluish.

"It's alright," Sirius said.

James also said, "Let's chat."

The two looked at each other, then turned back at the same time.

Lupin glanced at Sirius, then at James, but didn't press the matter.

He dragged a chair over, leaned back, and yawned. "I can't sleep anyway, so what's there to talk about?"

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