Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

On the morning of the first Saturday of May, Regulus placed his final assignment paper on Professor Flitwick's desk.

I visited four professors' offices this morning, reading three articles on Transfiguration, two on Charms, one on Defense Against the Dark Arts, and one on Herbalism.

McGonagall's assignment should be submitted first, which shows a reasonable attitude. The vice principal personally urged her to submit her assignment, so it wouldn't be appropriate to submit it last.

As for Potions, since the dean has given special permission not to pay it, then we won't pay it; we can't let the old professor down.

Actually, writing these things is not difficult. With his current knowledge, writing a second-year paper is just a matter of putting pen to paper.

He didn't even need to lift a finger. He could just sit in the library and let the quill pen write by itself. He would flip through the alchemy textbook he had brought back from Marseille, occasionally glancing up to check on the progress of his thesis.

It's just pure magical manipulation. The handwriting is his own, and even the angle of the pen strokes is exactly the same. Who can say that it wasn't written by him?

After handing in my assignment, it was still early. The sun was shining brightly outside the castle. In early May, the Scottish Highlands had finally weathered the rainy season. The air was dry, and the wind carried the scent of grass.

Regulus emerged from the castle gates and walked towards the Black Lake, without a destination.

Baruch perched on his left shoulder, his palm-sized body huddled at the collar of his school uniform, his spider head peeking out, his eight amber eyes scanning everything around him.

After walking along the shore of Black Lake for about fifteen minutes, I noticed a breeze on the lake, which created thin ripples that stretched from west to east.

Several newly hatched dragonflies skimmed the water's surface, their wings shimmering like transparent fragments of light in the sunlight.

People sat in twos and threes on the lawn by the lake. Hufflepuffs were having a picnic on blankets, Ravenclaws were reading and taking notes, and a few young Gryffindor wizards were skipping stones on the lake.

As they passed the bend in the lakeshore, Baruch's spider head suddenly turned to the left, and the white spots around its eight eyes flashed. The pure white halo was not very noticeable in the sunlight.

Regulus noticed the unique magical fluctuations that the Bowtruckle module emitted when activated, as it sensed the surrounding plants.

The ryegrass on the meadow, the reeds by the lake, and the beech trees on the edge of the forbidden forest in the distance—in Baruch's perception, these plants were probably an open net, with every root and every vein of every leaf emitting a faint signal.

While in France, it had the young vines on the west slope to care for it every day, the spider web irrigation system, the exchange of natural magic, and the establishment of a sensory connection with the plants. During that time, its sensory abilities were used to their fullest extent, and the white spots around its eight eyes were almost always lit up.

Now that she's back at Hogwarts, she's shrunk to the size of a palm and stays on his body. Her daily activities consist of going from her dormitory to the Great Hall to the library.

It itself was unwilling to return to the Forbidden Forest. The current Baruch was a civilized spider, used to human society and living in the wizard's fireplace. If it were asked to go back to squat in the depression with Aragog, it would probably think that the place was cold and damp, with no dragon meat to eat, and only a group of poor relatives crawling on the spider web.

This ability is idle; it will flash briefly when passing by a clump of bushes, like a nearsighted person squinting when seeing a blurry shadow.

We need to find something for it to do.

Regulus walked and thought.

Keeping a plant in your dorm room is fine, but Slytherin Cellars really doesn't get any sunlight; the view from the window is of the bottom of a dark lake, so it's gloomy even during the day.

But Baruch senses that plants don't need sunlight. The tree-protecting bow module is designed to work even in the dark. The growth of roots in the soil, the flow of water in the stem, and the opening and closing of stomata on the leaves are all signals that are unaffected by light.

Large plants are inconvenient to keep in a dormitory room, but a palm-sized Baruch doesn't need a large trellis; a small pot is enough to keep its sensory abilities active.

The plants themselves need to be selected; the damp and cold environment of a cellar is not suitable for all plants.

Spider silk secretions can be corrosive to the roots of some plants. It's best to find varieties that don't reject spider silk, which is also relatively convenient.

Although Baruch has a plant affinity, he is, after all, an eight-eyed giant spider. He can do things like watering and loosening the soil, but he easily makes a mess of everything.

Thinking of plants, my mind wandered to Eleanor Burns, a third-year Hufflepuff student who was quite knowledgeable in herbalism.

Thinking of Eleanor naturally brings to mind mandrake, and thinking of mandrake brings to mind Sirius Black plucking leaves from other plants.

Regulus's lips twitched slightly.

The gentle slopes and meadows on the southern shore of Black Lake are Hufflepuff's traditional territory, and they like to spend their weekends there when the weather is nice.

I had nothing to do, so I went to take a look.

A dozen or so Hufflepuffs sat scattered on the gentle slope. Some had spread out blankets, and a few were lying on them flipping through "The Witch Weekly," laughing and joking, their heels swinging back and forth in the air. Some were playing Explosives in a circle, while a few older students lay flat on the lakeside sunbathing, their robes covering their faces as shade.

Eleanor Burns and Susan Payne were on the far side, slightly away from the crowd.

Eleanor squatted on the grass, with a small flowerpot in front of her. Something was planted in it; the leaves had just sprouted from the soil, a tender green with a yellowish tinge, and the edges were still curled up.

She was fiddling with the soil with her fingers, scraping a piece of dried moss off the rim of the pot, her sleeves rolled up to her forearms, her fingers covered in mud.

Her light brown hair was tied in a loose bun, with a few stray strands falling around her ears. The wind blew them onto her cheeks, and she wiped them with the back of her hand, leaving a mud mark on her face.

Payne sat nearby, leaning against the trunk of an old willow tree with his legs stretched out, flipping through a book slowly, occasionally glancing up at the lake.

Regulus walked over.

A guy in a Slytherin robe appeared on Hufflepuff's territory. He was a Black. Several Hufflepuff junior wizards looked up, their gazes varying – some curious, some wary, some just watching the spectacle. No one stopped him, and no one greeted him.

Eleanor noticed him first, looked up, her fingers still covered in mud, and raised an eyebrow when she saw it was Regulus.

"Regulus," she smiled, revealing a canine tooth, and said generously, "It's been a long time."

Regulus smiled as well: "Long time no see, Eleanor."

Then he squatted down in front of her casually, resting his knees on the grass, and glanced at the flowerpot in front of her.

Payne looked up from his book, saw Regulus, and twisted his body slightly.

I felt uncomfortable and nervous, but much better than in second grade.

Having played with Eleanor for almost three years and met Regulus a few times, I know that this man doesn't bite, at least not Eleanor, so I can't bite her.

She didn't greet him first. Her gaze moved from Regulus's face to his shoulder, and when she saw Baruch, her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer.

Baruch turned the spider's head toward her, its chelicerae outstretched, and Payne's shoulders retracted, its head also leaning towards the tree trunk.

Eleanor glanced at Payne, chuckled, and without saying much, rubbed her hands on the hem of her robes. "How did you end up here?"

Regulus said casually, "I came to ask you for some advice."

"I'm looking for a magical plant," he tilted his head and nodded his chin toward Baruch on his shoulder. "I'll keep it as a pet. There are a few conditions: it must be able to survive in a cellar, it doesn't need sunlight, it should ideally be able to get along with spider silk, and it shouldn't be averse to arthropods."

After hearing this, Eleanor's eyes flashed with curiosity as she stared at Baruch.

She pointed her finger in Baruch's direction, and Baruch's spider head tilted slightly, its eight eyes following her finger, and it raised its front legs and swayed in her direction.

Eleanor paused, then grinned. "Is it saying hello to me?"

Regulus chuckled softly. "Yes, its name is Baruch."

"What species is it? I've never seen it before. A giant spider larva? No, that doesn't seem right. Its body shape is quite different from a giant spider."

She leaned closer to examine Baruch's eye distribution and carapace patterns, her gaze serious, as if she were conducting research.

"Mixed-race," Regulus gave a vague answer that said nothing at all.

Eleanor didn't press the matter. Her interest in the spider lay more in its functionality; she'd never seen a spider that could grow plants before.

"A cellar environment, no need for sunlight, and the ability to coexist with spider silk," she counted on her fingers, tilted her head, and thought for a moment, "Have you heard of the Hebrides Cave Star Vine?"

Regulus shook his head: "No."

"They prefer shade and their native environment is the sea caves in northwest Scotland. They don't need sunlight at all and rely on the residual magic in the environment to maintain their survival and functions."

The vines glow faintly in the dark, a beautiful blue-green color. Their root system is also incredibly flexible, allowing them to twine around various mediums, including spider silk, without resistance.

She spoke with increasing confidence, tilting her head to look at Baruch's legs: "But I'm not sure if it can adapt to the spider's touch. Some vines have a rejection reaction to arthropod fluids, and the leaf edges will curl and scorch."

Regulus asked, "Are there any other options?"

"Wells Red Hat Goblin Vein Moss," Eleanor chuckled after saying the long name, "a companion plant in the mines, in an environment worse than a cellar—no light, damp, full of dust and metal scraps, yet it survives."

Moreover, it has a unique characteristic: it actively climbs onto surrounding three-dimensional structures; spider webs are similar to rock wall supports in a mine for it.

"It's just not very good-looking," she added, "it's grayish-green, all lumpy, like it's moldy."

Regulus thought for a moment, neither the name nor the appearance of this thing suited his aesthetic: "Try Star Vine, it looks better."

Eleanor nodded and patted her chest: "Okay, I'll ask around for you, I think I can get it."

At this point in the conversation, the white dots around Baruch's eight eyes suddenly lit up again.

The spider's head peeked forward from Regulus's shoulder, heading towards the small flowerpot in front of Eleanor. The white dot lasted for about five seconds before slowly fading away.

Eleanor paused, her eyes lighting up as she stared intently at Baruch's tiny white dot, scrutinizing it closely. "Was it just... sensing my flower?"

Regulus said casually, "A little talent."

"Talent?" Eleanor leaned forward. "Your spider can sense the magic of plants?"

Baruch, under her gaze, opened its chelicerae and, with a clatter, began to dart back and forth on Regulus's shoulder, sometimes hiding under his collar, sometimes tucking behind his neck.

Regulus reached out and tapped its carapace, and it calmed down, lying back on his shoulder.

"So you're looking for a plant that it can grow using its plant senses?"

"almost."

"Interesting." Eleanor stroked her chin thoughtfully.

Regulus, observing her expression, also seemed thoughtful. He then veered the subject, "By the way, are you still cultivating your mandrake?"

Eleanor's gaze remained on Baruch, and she casually replied, "Raising him."

"Are there enough leaves?"

Eleanor paused, looked up at Regulus, her smile vanished, and her brow furrowed: "Don't even mention it, he ripped me off again last month."

"Got some more?" Regulus asked with concern. "How many?"

"Three pieces!" She gritted her teeth. "Last month, when I was repotting in the greenhouse, I had just laid out the new soil when he passed by—"

Why is he wandering around the greenhouse for no reason? He's a Gryffindor!

"The new leaves had only been growing for less than a week, three in total, ripped off by the roots!" Eleanor grew angrier as she spoke, her canine teeth showing, her voice brimming with pent-up resentment. "And then he put them back in the flowerpot, all neatly arranged, as if he'd never done anything there!"

Regulus raised an eyebrow: "That's going too far?"

"That's outrageous!" Eleanor's voice rose higher and higher, her eyes blazing with anger. "I only found out the next morning when I went to water the plants in the greenhouse that the leaves were wilted and lying on the surface of the soil, and the roots were pointing skywards. Did he think I couldn't see it?"

Regulus narrowed his eyes: "And him? How did he behave after he finished?"

Eleanor looked up and glared at him, pouting, "What kind of behavior is that? When we bumped into each other in the hallway the next day, you acted like nothing happened, baring your teeth and greeting me."

"You greet each other?" Regulus raised his hand and stroked his chin.

Eleanor's eyes widened: "Did I even acknowledge him?"

Regulus asked curiously, "Did you sort it out?"

"No!" Eleanor retorted loudly, then realized she had overreacted and lowered her eyes.

Lowering her eyes, she felt even more uneasy. What was she feeling guilty about? It wasn't like she had plucked someone else's leaves.

So she looked up again and added, trying to justify herself, "Anyway, it's only three pieces, that's too much."

Regulus nodded in agreement: "That's going too far."

Eleanor stared at him suspiciously, snorted, and turned her head away. The morning sun was shining brightly, and her face was flushed.

Regulus watched her change in expression and his lips twitched slightly.

interesting.

Sirius was jumping around in front of a girl he was somewhat interested in, completely unaware of what he was doing.

Every word the girl uttered was a complaint, but the way she complained told him that she didn't hate being provoked.

The sunlight shifted from due east to slightly south, and a breeze blew across the lake, causing the light and shadows on the grass to flicker.

Several Hufflepuffs in the distance stood up to collect their blankets, probably to go back for lunch.

Regulus sensed it first; a familiar magical force was approaching from a distance.

There's no need to consciously perceive it; it's too familiar. Things related to bloodline automatically flood the brain, making one flamboyant, restless, and out of place with the relaxed lakeside atmosphere.

His lips twitched, but he didn't turn around.

Then there was Eleanor, still talking about the mandrake leaves and complaining about Sirius, her fingers rubbing back and forth on the edge of the flowerpot.

He suddenly stopped talking and then pulled the flowerpot closer to his chest.

She looked up, glanced around, her gaze sweeping across the lawn by the lake before quickly locking onto a spot slightly to the right behind Regulus.

His expression changed instantly; his chin lifted slightly, his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips tightened and then opened, forming a sharp arc.

Prepare to meet the enemy.