Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

In December at Hogwarts, the cold air felt like solidified knives, yet the stands around the Quidditch pitch were so hot they made you sweat.

Half an hour before the match began, Regulus sat in the best viewing area of ​​Slytherin, plotting how to make up for the lost time.

Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world, involves twelve people chasing a few balls on broomsticks, and a game can last for hours or even days.

Regulus knew the rules and considered it inefficient entertainment, too time-consuming, with limited tactical content and considerable risk.

Breaking one's neck is not uncommon in Quidditch history.

He hadn't wanted to come, but Avery had been nagging him since morning: "You have to go! It's an honor for the college!"

Alex nodded in agreement, and Hermes, though silent, tacitly agreed to be present.

To fit in.

Regulus sighed inwardly. In Slytherin, there were certain occasions that one could not be absent from, so he sat here, wrapped in a thick cloak.

"It's about to begin!" Avery suddenly shouted.

Regulus looked up. In the center of the field, Mrs. Hodge blew her whistle, and the Quaffle took off.

Captain Slytherin was a fifth-year student named Elliot Rozier, a distant relative of the Alex family, but belonging to the main branch.

Evan Rozier, who approached him at the Halloween dinner, comes from the same family.

This guy is tall and broad-shouldered, with shoulders that could block a doorway.

During the pre-match assembly, he said to the whole team, "Listen up, everyone, there is only one goal today: to win the game!"

Victory is more important than form. I want to see Slytherin outscored them on the scoreboard, and I don't care how I achieve that.

The words were bluntly stated, and the chasers grinned, while the batter weighed his bat in his hand.

Regulus looked towards the opposite stands, where Gryffindor was almost entirely red.

James Porter stood in the front row. He was the Seeker, wearing a gold and red jersey, his hair was messy, but his eyes were bright.

Sirius Black, standing in the stands, shouted the loudest: "Gryffindor! Victory! James, tear those vipers apart!"

His shouts could be heard across half the stadium. Several lower Slytherins glared at him and yelled back, while the upperclassmen ignored him.

Sirius Black was practically clinging to the railing of the stands, waving his arms as if he were about to fly off.

Peter Pediru huddled behind him and shouted along, but much softer.

Remus Lupin stood a little further away, smiling, but didn't shout.

The professors sat on the central platform, with Dumbledore in the very center, his eyes behind his crescent-shaped spectacles calmly watching the pitch.

Professor McGonagall sat close to him, leaning forward with her fingers interlaced on her knees. She had taught in Gryffindor for many years and watched every house game.

This is a long-time Quidditch fan.

Slughorn sat on the other side, talking to Professor Flitwick, gesturing with his chubby fingers in the air.

Professor Sprout brought a bag of candy and distributed it to the younger students around him.

With Professor Binns absent, the Ghost probably has no interest in Quidditch.

Regulus's gaze swept across the entire field, thinking to himself that Slytherin's tactics were obvious: use fouls to slow down the pace and wait for Gryffindor to make a mistake.

This style of play can win, but it will create enemies.

The whistle blew again, and the game began.

......

The first twenty minutes were relatively normal, with the Quaffle flying around in the air and the Runners hitting the ball loudly. Slytherin scored ten points first, but Gryffindor quickly caught up.

Then the subtle tricks started.

The first time was when the Slytherin Chaser accidentally bumped his elbow into the Gryffindor Chaser's ribs while passing the ball. The Chaser groaned and the Quaffle slipped from his grasp.

Mrs. Hooch blew her whistle as a warning.

"Despicable!" someone shouted from the opposite stands.

Avery scoffed, "The rules don't say you can't touch it."

The second instance was even more subtle: as another Slytherin chaser accelerated, the hem of his robe suddenly lashed out and tangled with the Gryffindor player's broom tail.

In just half a second, he was able to get the ball.

Mrs. Hooch blew her whistle again as a warning.

Then came the third time, and the fourth time.

James Porter made a sharp turn in mid-air, trying to catch the Golden Snitch, which was flashing at the other end of the court.

But a Slytherin batter hit the Walker right in his path, and James yanked his broom, sending the Walker grazing his shoe.

"Foul!" Professor McGonagall stood up.

Mrs. Hooch flew over to the batsman and said something sternly, but instead of disqualifying him, she gave Gryffindor a penalty.

The score gradually widened to forty points, then fifty.

Slytherin continued their underhanded tactics, becoming increasingly secretive and insidious, until the score reached 150 points, at which point the Golden Snitch appeared once again.

James Porter shot off almost instantly, riding the latest Nimbus 1001, which was indeed fast, like a red lightning bolt.

Slytherin's Seeker chased desperately, but was clearly a step too slow.

Just then, the Quaffle reached the Slytherin Chaser, who was facing the Gryffindor goal, but the goalkeeper had anticipated the move and blocked the angle.

Normally, this ball wouldn't go in, but the Slytherin batter made a little trick, hitting the wandering ball towards the Gryffindor goalkeeper's broom handle.

The goalkeeper instinctively dodged, shifting his center of gravity for a fraction of a second.

In that instant, the Slytherin Chaser released the Quaffle, which flew in a tricky arc and slipped under the goalkeeper's arm and into the far right goalpost.

The whistle blows, the score is valid.

Almost simultaneously, James Potter caught the Golden Snitch, its golden wings fluttering between his fingers.

But it was no use. Slytherin scored ten points on that last shot, and with their previous lead, their total score was ten points higher.

The game ended, and the stadium was quiet for a second before erupting.

Before the Gryffindor team even landed, they immediately surrounded Madam Hooch on their broomsticks, with James Potter leading the charge, clutching the Golden Snitch in his hand.

"That's a foul! He hit my broom!" the Gryffindor goalkeeper yelled.

Mrs. Hooch tried to explain, but no one listened.

James handed the Snitch to his teammate, turned his broom around and charged towards the ground, jumping off the broom before he even landed.

"Rozier!" He charged toward Captain Slytherin.

Elliot Rozier had just gotten off the broom when he saw James approaching. He grinned and said, "What, can't accept defeat?"

"You used dirty tricks!"

"The referee says it stands." Rozier shrugged. "If you have any objections, talk to Mrs. Hodge."

That's like pouring oil on a fire.

Sirius Black rushed down from the stands, followed by Remus, Peter, and several other Gryffindor boys. They all surged down, looking more like they wanted to fight than to argue.

"Something's going to happen." Avery stood up.

Alex turned pale. Hermes didn't say anything, but his hand had already reached into the inner pocket of his robe.

Regulus stood up, his gaze sweeping across the room. On the professors' table, Dumbledore was still sitting, but Professor McGonagall had already walked down, and Slughorn also stood up.

But it will take the professor time to get here, and these two groups of people might start fighting within thirty seconds.

"Let's go," Regulus simply said.

He walked down, Avery and the others followed closely behind, and the students from the Slytherin stands surged down like a green tide.

When they reached the main corridor outside the locker room, both sides were blocked off.

The left side was green, the right side was red, and there was a narrow path less than ten feet in between.

The older students stood at the very front, while on the Slytherin side, Lucretius Burke, the prefect of the seventh year, stood in the very center.

Narcissa stood slightly behind him, graceful and calm, her fingers already gripping her wand.

Following them are several sixth-grade core members, all of whom have influential surnames within the pureblood circle.

On the Gryffindor side, the leader was also a seventh-year student named Frank Longbottom. Regulus knew this name; he was the father of the Gryffindor Sword Saint.

Standing next to him was a tall man with red hair, probably a member of the Prewitt or Weasley family.

James and Sirius were huddled behind Frank, still shouting something, and the scene was almost completely out of control.

This is no longer a conflict between teams, but a confrontation between two colleges.

One magic wand after another was drawn, and someone had already uttered the first half of a spell.

Regulus quickened his pace, intending to weave through the Slytherin crowd.

The outermost group consisted of lower grades. When they saw him coming, they instinctively made way. Further in were the third and fourth grades, and almost everyone there recognized him. Some people stepped aside to let him pass, while others frowned and stared at him.

Avery, Hermes, and Alex followed behind him. When they reached the fourth-grade section, Avery hesitated for a moment before stopping and standing there.

Hermes and Alex also stopped and stood together.

Further ahead lies the realm of the upperclassmen, which Regulus can access, but they cannot.

Regulus didn't stop; he continued walking forward. A fifth-grader reached out to stop him, but after being swept over by his calm gaze, he withdrew his hand.

In the core circle of sixth graders, several students stared at him with unfriendly eyes.

Lucretius Burke heard the noise behind him, turned around and saw Regulus. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Narcissa turned around, saw it was him, and slightly stepped aside to make room for Regulus.