Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 456 Regulus: Want to learn? I'll teach you.

The door to Pig Head Bar came into view.

The streets of Hogsmeade were deserted, with only a few streetlights still on, casting thin, damp shadows on the cobblestones.

The bar windows let in a dim, murky light, and Aberforth's cursing and swearing came from under the door, mixed with the bleating of goats.

Regulus pushed open the door and entered, a familiar mixed smell wafted up and filled his nostrils.

One sniff, nauseous; another sniff, still nauseous; one more sniff, a little better; one last sniff, and I'm almost used to it.

Regulus stepped aside to make way for the doorway.

Several figures cloaked in black squeezed out from the crack in the door, their faces completely hidden in shadow by their hoods. They hurried along and disappeared one after another around the corner of Hogsmeade's back alley.

Aberforth is chasing people away.

He stood behind the bar, a dirty rag draped over his shoulder, one hand supporting himself on the counter, the other hand waving his wand forcefully at the few people still dawdling in the corner.

His voice was rough and aggressive: "Get out! We're closed! Are you deaf or lame? Do you want me to drag you all out one by one?"

A short man wrapped in a cloak muttered in the corner, "It's not time yet..."

Aberforth's eyes widened, and he pointed his wand in the man's direction, the tip of the wand hissing and sparking.

Without saying a word, the short man downed the rest of the wine in his glass in one gulp, then shrank back and slipped out through the side door.

The last customer left, and only the crackling of the fireplace remained in the bar.

Regulus stepped inside, followed by the Prewitt brothers, while Fabian shrank back at the doorway.

Gideon grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. His steps were practiced; he turned left as soon as he entered, avoiding the warped floorboards by the door without even looking.

Dumbledore sat on a high stool on the far right of the bar, his half-moon spectacles gleaming slightly in the fireplace firelight, with a half-empty glass of gin in front of him.

The blue-eyed man looked at Abu Fusi chasing people from above his glasses, looking quite relaxed. He didn't know when he had returned, but he looked like he had been sitting there for quite a while.

Aberforth's roar came from the direction of the bar, shaking dust off the door frame.

"Close the door! The wind will blow in and the goat will catch a cold—you! I'm talking to you! What are you dawdling about at the door for!"

Fabian quickly rushed inside, and the door slammed shut behind him.

After Aberforth chased the people away, he looked up and glanced at the three people who had entered, his gaze first landing on the Pwitt brothers.

Fabian's robe was torn in several places, revealing his scraped shoulders, and his face was covered in ash.

The scabs on Gideon's forehead had turned dark red, and the right half of his robe was torn to shreds.

He looked the two brothers up and down in their disheveled state, then shifted his gaze to Geralt.

The vest was fairly neat, but the charred bloodstain on the cuff was particularly glaring in the dim light.

Aberforth's face darkened further.

He turned his gaze to Dumbledore, who was sitting at the other end of the bar, and said in a rough, harsh voice, "Here we go again! Every time you come, none of your men are ever safe and sound!"

The last one was lame for three months, the one before that had half his face burned, and this time it's even worse, both of them together!

Blue eyes swept over the two brothers in the dim light, and he raised his chin toward them: "Look at yourselves, one shoulder is rotten, the other's head is cracked, and their robes are torn as if they've been kicked by a dragon."

Then his eyes widened suddenly, and he roared at Dumbledore, "Do you think I'm St. Mungo?!"

Dumbledore picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said calmly and lightly, "Ah, Aberforth, I think these two need to have their injuries checked."

Abu Fusi snorted heavily, walked around from behind the bar, and stood in front of the two brothers.

Without saying a word, he first pulled open Fabian's collar, his thick fingers tearing the fabric outwards to reveal the abrasions on his shoulder.

Fabian hissed and shrank back, but Aberforth pulled him back.

"Why are you hiding! Was it a rock or a spell that caused this? This area is huge, and you're standing right in the middle of an explosive spell?"

He then grabbed Gideon's chin and pressed his thumb against the bruise next to the blood scab on his forehead.

Gideon's neck was twisted backward, causing him to fall to one side, where Aberforth held his shoulder down with his other hand to keep him still.

"What about this one? Did it run into a wall? Or did someone smash its head against a rock?"

Fabian grinned, muttering "almost, almost," while Gideon, being tossed about, cooperated, letting Aberforth do as he pleased.

Aberforth pulled out his wand, its shaft covered in scratches and its tip dulled from wear.

Without chanting any incantations, he suddenly swung his arm forward, and two balls of light shot out from the tip of his staff.

The ball of light was quite large, about the size of a fist, several times larger than a typical healing spell. Its color was warm yellowish-white, and its brightness was not dazzling, giving it a lazy and gentle feel.

But the way it flew out was extremely violent, with a fast firing rate, a bit of an explosion at the edges, and light filaments scattering outwards like sparks, looking much like its owner's temper.

Two beams of light enveloped Fabian and Gideon respectively, spreading along the brothers' bodies and sweeping them from head to toe.

The brothers began to glow from various parts of their bodies. The scrapes on their shoulders emitted a faint red glow, the scabs on their foreheads glowed with a dark orange light, their chests and abdomens were covered with blue spots of varying shades, their joints were surrounded by pale yellow halos, and the core of their magic glowed with a stable pale gold light.

Aberforth stared at the lights for a moment, then snorted.

The multicolored lights gradually dimmed and eventually went out completely.

The shock and exhaustion caused a few superficial wounds, but the magic core remained undamaged, the bones were not broken, and there was no internal bleeding.

He pulled two bottles of blue-green liquid from under the bar, shoved them into the brothers' hands, and gruffly instructed, "Drink these, they're for replenishing your blood. Don't die in my shop."

Fabian took the bottle, pulled out the stopper, and took a sip. He choked on the taste of the medicine and his brows furrowed.

Gideon showed no expression, tilted his head back and drank it, then placed the empty bottle on the table next to him.

Aberforth turned and walked toward the bar, stopping as he passed Geralt.

His grey-blue eyes stared at the charred bloodstains, then glanced at Geralt's nonchalant face, which even wore a lazy smile.

Then he turned to Dumbledore and pointed his thumb sharply in Geralt's direction: "I told you last time, following you at such a young age won't end well."

The sarcasm in his tone was even stronger than when he was talking to the two brothers, and his voice was louder: "Your cuffs are covered in blood, and it's someone else's blood, damn it!"

The people you bring back either come back lying down or with other people's blood on their hands. What are you doing? Are you a teacher or a slaughterhouse owner?

Regulus's grin widened even further.

Aberforth has a good eye; of course it couldn't be his blood.

He raised his wrist and looked at it; the bloodstains and scorch marks were slowly fading, as Professor McGonagall's permanent deformation was automatically repairing the fabric.

The fabric fibers slowly repelled the external stains, and the blood scabs were squeezed out of the fibers little by little, turning into fine dark red powder that sprinkled from the edge of the cuff.

The edges of the charred marks recede inwards, the darker colors become lighter, and the lighter colors become paler.

He stared at it for a while, then magic surged from his body.

With a bang, a layer of orange-red flames erupted from his entire body, burning simultaneously from head to toe.

The flames burned against the skin and clothing, reaching very high temperatures.

The ash and grass clippings in his hair were instantly burned to ashes, the bloodstain on his cuff that hadn't had time to heal itself was burned away, and the gravel dust on his vest also disappeared.

The flames lasted for less than a second before going out in a flash.

Her long, silvery-white hair swayed slightly in the steam after the flames had dissipated, and the dark patterns on her short vest shone faintly in the fireplace light. She was spotless from head to toe, just like when she first graduated from school.

Fabian stared wide-eyed, nearly dropping the medicine bottle in his hand.

Gideon's mouth opened slightly, then closed again.

Dumbledore's eyebrows arched above his half-moon spectacles, and the corners of his mouth curved into a smile.

Aberforth's face darkened.

"You fucking set my bar on fire!" he yelled, pointing at Geralt. "Are you out of your mind, or do you think my place isn't dilapidated enough?!"

Regulus shrugged and patted the front of his vest twice. The sparks had all been extinguished, leaving only a little warmth emanating from the collar.

He walked to an empty table next to the fireplace and sat down, leaning back in his chair with one leg propped on top of the other, in an extremely relaxed posture.

Aberforth was still cursing behind the bar, his voice rising and falling and then rising again, interspersed with words like "arson," "my house," and "whether I'll get compensation."

Realizing Geralt was completely ignoring him, Aberforth's anger suddenly shifted to Dumbledore: "You brought these people! Aren't you going to do anything about it?! Setting fire to someone else's shop, is this how you teach them?!"

Dumbledore held his gin glass, took a small sip, smiled gently, and said calmly, "Aberforth, he certainly should have said hello first, but you have to admit, it worked very well."

"The effect?" Aberforth's eyes widened even more. "You're still defending him? You two are exactly the same!"

He grumbled as he walked back behind the bar, slung the dirty rag over his shoulder, and continued cursing, "Goats are easier to take care of than you! They eat when you feed them hay, sleep on hay, and at least they won't set fire to other people's houses!"

He picked up a glass, wiped it twice, then put it down, his mouth never stopping: "You bunch of guys, one set a fire, two got injured, and the other just sat there pretending nothing happened! Albus, I'm talking to you! Every time you come, my bar loses a layer of skin!"

Fabian shrank back, squeezing himself behind his brother, and whispered to Gideon, "Was he fiercer than last time?"

Gideon remained calm, but lowered his voice: "Don't worry, it's not aimed at us."

Fabian grinned, held the medicine bottle to his lips, his eyes darting between Aberforth and Geralt, barely daring to breathe.

The fire in the fireplace burned brighter again.

After drinking the potion, the two brothers regained some color in their faces and each took out their wands to clean themselves up.

Fabian wiped the dust and stone powder off his robe, the spell swirling it up and scattering it in the air, causing him to cough twice.

Gideon cast a healing spell on him, and the wound on his shoulder slowly closed up.

The two finished, and although there were still a few scorch marks that couldn't be removed, the overall appearance was decent.

They moved closer to Regulus, and Fabian pulled up a chair to sit down, while Gideon, being more steady, made sure the chair was properly positioned before sitting down.

Dumbledore was whispering something to Aberforth at the bar, occasionally glancing at the young people.

Fabian spoke first, his eyes shining brightly, with half a mouthful of unswallowed potion in his mouth: "What was that explosion spell just now? I've never seen it before. Did you do it yourself?"

Gideon reached out and tugged at Fabian's sleeve, his brow furrowing slightly, his meaning clear.

Fabian paused for a moment, then realized what he meant, scratched the back of his head, and smacked his lips twice: "Uh, I mean, if it's inconvenient to say, then forget it—"

Regulus waved his hand, raised an eyebrow at the two brothers, and said, "It's nothing, just a few basic spells put together."

The golden light in Amber's vertical pupils flickered as she looked at Fabian, her tone casual: "Want to learn? I'll teach you."

Fabian's eyes lit up instantly, and he turned to look at Gideon, his mouth practically stretched to his ears in a grin.

Gideon was also taken aback for a moment, then the two of them turned back at the same time.

Fabian nodded vigorously: "Think about it—now?"