Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Sirius walked towards the castle alone.

His gait remained the same: large strides, swaying shoulders, robes open and unbuttoned, Gryffindor's red and gold tie loose to his chest.

His black hair was a little messy in the sunlight, but not sloppy. Paired with the iconic face of the Black family, he looked quite presentable from a distance as he walked towards the lake.

There was no particular reason for his arrival. On a Saturday morning, he was bored and went for a stroll. He noticed from afar that the colors in Hufflepuff were a bit off; a patch of green had emerged from the yellow.

As I got closer, I could see who was standing there, surrounded by greenery, and then I noticed who was squatting next to them. I paused for a moment, then continued walking, even walking a little faster.

Eleanor remained crouched, her hands still resting on the flowerpot, her chin held high, her eyes narrowed.

Payne looked up from his book, glanced at Eleanor's expression, then at Sirius Black walking towards them in the distance, and silently closed the book, placing it on his lap.

Sirius walked up to Regulus, glanced at him with a meaningless look, and then fixed his gaze on Eleanor.

"Borns, you changed the pot again? Wasn't it a round pot last time?" He grinned casually, put his hand in his pocket, and gestured with his chin towards the flowerpot. "Yours isn't growing well. You don't know how to care for it. Shall I teach you?"

Eleanor jumped up, her movements small but her presence imposing, one hand protecting the flowerpot while the other was already poking at it.

"Get away from my flowerpots, Blake!"

Sirius was poked so hard he took a step back, looked down at his chest, then looked up again, baring his teeth: "I was just looking, I didn't touch it."

"What are you looking at? Last time I just looked at it and the leaves were gone!" Eleanor hid the flowerpot behind her back and grabbed Sirius's outstretched wrist with her other hand.

Sirius struggled, but couldn't break free: "Let go—"

Eleanor was half a head shorter than Sirius, but her imposing manner was in no way inferior: "Put your claws back first!"

Sirius tried to break free a couple more times, looking very strong, his mouth almost stretched to his ears, but he couldn't. So he gave up and reached for the flowerpot behind him.

Eleanor turned her body to the side, protecting the flowerpot on the other side.

Sirius's hand reached for nothing, so she took the opportunity to pull his arm down, causing him to stumble. She then used her other hand to press down on the top of her head, preventing her arm from reaching him.

"Get off me—"

"You loosen your grip first."

"Let go of my head first!"

"Let go of my hand first!"

The two people were twisting together.

Payne held up the book to cover the lower half of his face, his shoulders trembling slightly.

Regulus silently stepped aside, watching the two bicker without making a sound.

Baruch perched on his shoulder, his spider head darting between Sirius and Eleanor, his chelicerae clicking.

Sirius Black stopped reaching for the flowerpot and started criticizing Eleanor's gardening skills: "Have you noticed that your mandrake's leaves are turning yellow? It's lacking fertilizer, the base fertilizer isn't enough, it's not a problem of the leaves being pulled off."

Eleanor retorted loudly, "Whether I need fat or not, I know it myself. You don't need to worry about it!"

"Let me see what's wrong with you—"

"Who asked you to help?"

The two men's voices grew louder and louder, especially loud on the quiet lakeside. Several Hufflepuffs around them turned to look. A boy wearing glasses nudged his companion with his elbow and whispered something. Then they both covered their mouths and laughed.

Regulus watched, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up.

The way a thirteen or fourteen-year-old should look.

He had never experienced anything like this before; his mature soul allowed him to skip over all the confusion that should have been part of adolescence.

But watching Sirius jumping around in front of a girl, I thought it was pretty good.

There was a commotion for a while.

Eleanor released Sirius's wrist first, pushed it away, took a step back, straightened her collar which had been pulled askew, her face slightly red, a few strands of her hair loose, glared at him fiercely, then turned and strode away, the hem of her yellow robe fluttering to both sides with her footsteps.

Payne quickly stood up from the grass, brushed the grass clippings off his robe, and jogged after him.

Only the two brothers remained on the gentle slope.

Sirius watched Eleanor's retreating figure, a fleeting emotion crossing his face—not complicated, just an emotion a fourteen-year-old boy himself couldn't name, coming and going quickly.

Then he turned his head and saw Regulus leaning against a tree, looking at him with a mocking gaze.

His face stiffened, but he quickly composed himself, strode over, and plopped down on the grass next to Regulus, propping one leg up and resting his arm on his knee, as if nothing had happened.

Regulus didn't sit down; instead, he leaned against the tree trunk and looked down at Sirius.

After watching for a while, he asked in a seemingly kind tone, "What exactly happened between you and Burns?"

Sirius's head jerked up: "What? What's going on?"

Why do you always provoke people?

"Who messed with her?" Sirius's voice immediately rose, his neck stiffening as he emphasized, "I just happened to be passing by and saw her, so I came over to say hello—"

"Did you offend them by giving them a greeting?"

"She grabbed me first!"

Regulus just stared at him without saying a word.

Sirius felt uncomfortable being stared at, so he changed his sitting posture, crossed his legs, then stretched them out, and pouted.

"I just... I needed the mandrake leaves, Ani—I mean, I just grabbed some. Her pot is in a public area, anyone can touch it, it's not just my problem!"

"The Black family's Cornish plantation has mandrake leaves to spare," Regulus said casually. "You can write a letter back, and Kreacher can send you a box the next day. Why bother stealing someone else's carefully tended potted plants?"

Sirius opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His expression shifted back and forth, sometimes trying to be defiant, sometimes unable to speak. Then he suddenly turned his head to look at the lake, his voice frighteningly loud: "So what if I picked two leaves!"

The more he tries to explain, the worse it gets—a classic boyish reaction.

Regulus chuckled, stopping teasing him. Seeing Sirius's embarrassed expression, he felt quite relieved.

This is the kind of trouble a normal fourteen-year-old boy should have. There's no Voldemort or Death Eaters, no war or politics, no family stance or faction choice. He's just a little potted plant for a girl.

A gust of wind blew across the lake, ruffling the brothers' hair and causing their robes to flutter eastward.

Several young wizards in the distance ran towards the castle. When they reached the willow tree, they saw two Blacks, one standing and one sitting, and walked around them.

Sirius stopped making a fuss, remained quiet for a while, and then asked, "Where did you go?"

Regulus looked at the lake and said seriously, "India."

After he finished speaking, he realized there was no movement beside him. He looked down and saw Sirius looking at him with an expression that said, "Are you stupid or am I stupid or do you think I'm stupid?"

Regulus looked away: "France."

Sirius looked suspicious and didn't respond.

Regulus explained, "My family owns properties in Provence, including estates and vineyards, and there are some business matters that need to be handled there."

Sirius Black picked a blade of grass from under his bottom, put it in his mouth, and pursed his lips.

Going to India was definitely a lie, but going to France was probably true. However, he knew that wasn't the whole truth, and he also knew that Regulus wouldn't tell him the whole truth. He even knew that asking would be pointless.

But he still asked, and after asking, he just pursed his lips and moved on.

It was quiet for a while.

Several water birds circled low over the lake. Suddenly, one of them swooped down, touched the water's surface, and snatched up a silver fish.

Sirius took the grass stem out of his mouth, wrapped it around his finger twice, looked at the lake, and said casually, "I'm not going back for the holidays."

Regulus didn't respond; he continued, "Go to the Potters."

Sirius's face was still facing the lake, but his eyes were floating upwards, landing on Regulus's face to see his reaction.

Regulus didn't react much; his eyes just kept floating around.

After a while, Regulus said lazily, "The Potters are quite generous to take in someone like you."

Sirius's shoulders relaxed slightly.

"James's family lives in Gedrick Hollow, it's quite big, the yard is big enough to play Quidditch," he began talking about the Potters, speaking quickly, as if trying to make amends or to convince himself: "His parents are nice people, they said they can stay as long as they want, anyway, Greenough Square isn't that interesting, you know—they're just not going back."

As soon as he said it, Sirius felt a surge of satisfaction.

He said it.

He was leaving Grimmauld Place, leaving the Black family home; he was free.

The Potters' house had sunshine, a yard, and someone to cook for them; it was a hundred times better than that dark, damp old house in Grimmauld Place.

This was his own choice, and he has no regrets about it.

It was truly relaxing, but along with it came guilt.

With his departure, the burden of being the eldest son fell entirely on Regulus's shoulders.

Voldemort's attention, the Death Eaters' probing, the Black family's position and responsibilities within the pure-blood circle—all of these things originally belonged to him.

You can pretend you don't know in front of others, but you can't pretend in front of Regulus.

Regulus looked at his profile.

Sirius Black, now fourteen, no longer had the roundness of a teenager's chin. His lips were stubbornly pursed, and his eyes held a mixture of relief, awkwardness, and guilt, which he probably couldn't quite sort out himself.

In the blink of an eye, he's grown into a young man.

Regulus said softly, "That's fine."

Sirius looked up at him: "That's all you wanted to say?"

Regulus glanced at him sideways: "What do you want to hear?"

Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it again, and sullenly lowered his head.

He himself didn't know what he wanted to hear; maybe something that was good was good enough.

In Regulus's view, Sirius's timing in making this choice is perfect, while he is still in school.

Within the high walls of Hogwarts, student status is a layer of protection. No matter how flamboyant, how noisy, or how much one expresses opposition to Voldemort, one is still just a junior wizard.

Voldemort wouldn't bother with a minor wizard; it's not worth his time.

Making trouble at school, arguing with Slytherins in the hallways, talking back to professors in class, and cursing about Death Eaters in the Daily Prophet—these are all privileges of a junior wizard.

It's much better to make our stance clear now, to separate ourselves from the family, and to cut ties while it's still safe than after graduation.

After graduating from Hogwarts, the cost of choosing sides is completely different; every decision back then carries the weight of life and death.

In 1975, Voldemort's war will break out in full force in the summer, and the sooner it is cut off, the better.

These were routes that he and Orion had decided on long ago.

Sirius thought he had made a momentous decision of his own, but in fact, every step he took was part of a plan.

He doesn't need to know that; he just needs a confirmation.

Regulus confirmed for him, "The Potters are a nice place, just don't eat too much. They say they can stay as long as you want, but they'll complain if you eat too much."

Sirius paused for a moment, then a smile spread across his face: "They wouldn't dislike me."

He got up from the ground, brushed the grass clippings off his bottom, then stood there motionless, staring at Regulus's profile for a long time before suddenly saying, "You've always been like this."

Regulus glanced at him sideways: "How so?"

"It's fine, it's alright, you can handle it yourself," he mimicked Regulus's tone, but not quite right, it was too exaggerated, but he captured that smug feeling perfectly: "It's been like this since we were kids. If I fall, you say I deserve it; if I flip over with my broom, you stand by and watch; if I almost die in front of you, you probably just blink. And now, with something this big happening, you're still saying 'it's fine'."

Regulus didn't even bother to look at him this time: "What else?"

Sirius turned his face back to the lake, remained silent for a while, then curled the corners of his mouth upwards slightly: "It's nothing."

The light on the lake was warmer, and the sun had moved a little westward from due south.

The wind died down, the temperature on the lawn rose, and in the distance, several giant squid basked in the sun on the water, their tentacles drooping and occasionally slapping the surface.

Neither of the brothers spoke again, and they stood there for a while.

Regulus strode forward: "Let's go, it's time for lunch."

Sirius stretched, raised his arm above his head and pulled, making a few cracking sounds.

The two brothers walked side by side toward the castle, one a Slytherin, the other a Gryffindor.

The colors of the school uniforms contrasted sharply in the afternoon sunlight, and the silver-green and gold-red ties were blown in the same direction by the wind on the lake.

The shadow stretched across the lawn, becoming long and slanted as it crossed the gentle slope, accentuated by the undulating ground.

Baruch perched on Regulus's shoulder, his spider head turning to look at Sirius, his amber eyes fixed on his face, his chelicerae clicking a few times.

Sirius dodged to the side, nearly tripping over his own foot: "Could you please stop staring at me like that spider?"

Regulus's lips twitched slightly: "Afraid it'll bite you?"

Baruch opened his mouth in agreement.

Sirius Black curled his lip and clicked his tongue.

As I stepped into the shadows of the castle gate, light shone from behind, casting two overlapping shadows that were cut in half by the door frame.