Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

From early May to mid-June, Regulus lived a peaceful and tranquil life at Hogwarts.

There was no Voldemort, no Death Eaters, no smugglers, no Bellatrix, only classrooms, homework, libraries, and the playful squabbles among young wizards.

These days felt so light and carefree that when he occasionally walked down the corridor and watched two groups of young wizards pull out their wands and unleash curses at each other over a mere verbal exchange, he felt as if he were watching a bunch of kittens fight.

It got all pricked up, stretched out its claws, and charged at you while howling. After it finished fighting, it licked its fur and went back to its den to sleep, only to have to go to class together the next day.

As soon as June arrived, all four colleges began to stir.

Exam anxiety, compounded by pent-up resentment within the academy, caused all the young wizards in the castle to lose their temper.

The conflict between Gryffindor and Slytherin visibly escalated. Every now and then, a disarming curse would ring out in the corridor, occasionally accompanied by one or two minor curses that wouldn't kill anyone but could cause their mouths to swell for three days or their faces to be covered in pustules.

A few lower-year students from Slytherin were cornered on the fourth floor. The Gryffindor students were opposite them, and after a few shoving, the professor separated them.

"Keep your wands under control until exam week," Polyus Greengrass said coldly in the common room.

When the class monitor spoke, no one dared to contradict him. After two days of silence, people started fighting again in the corridor on the third day.

That's how things are for little wizards: they fight when they need to, get tense when they need to, and once the exams are over and summer vacation is over, they're separated again when they come back in the fall, and it's still the same old story.

With exam week approaching, the atmosphere in the dormitory became tense.

I made a few more of the calming paper birds that I transformed for Alex last year, and I made a few more this year.

Paper birds hovered between the desk and the bed curtains, their soft calls spreading a soothing magic in the air.

Lina and Samuel each gave two as well.

These two had gone from being ignored, marginalized mixed-race individuals in Slytherin to being close to Black; no one bothered them, but no one paid them any attention either.

Born of mixed race with no family background, she remained invisible in Slytherin's social circle. Her dormitory best reflected this sense of transparency, where her roommates went their separate ways, creating a cold and quiet atmosphere.

After the paper bird was brought back, the situation changed a bit.

Lina's roommates watched as the two palm-sized paper birds flew around the dormitory. A bluish-green halo reflected on the stone wall, and their soft chirping relaxed their tense expressions.

One of her roommates couldn't resist reaching out and touching it. The paper bird circled around her fingertip, scattering a few specks of light.

"Costa, where did this come from?"

Lina forced a smile, trying to put on an expression of "you're all making a fuss over nothing," shrugged, and didn't say anything.

But the roommates will figure it out themselves.

This kind of magical artifact, which clearly possesses a calming effect, is something Costa, a half-blood with no background, could not possibly create, and it is completely out of step with her own level of magic.

That leaves only one source: Black.

Lina's roommates gave her a slightly different look.

All of Slytherin knew that Costa and Vance, the two half-bloods, were Black's henchmen, but there were differences among henchmen.

Receiving a tangible magical item from Blake is quite different from simply running errands for him.

Being a follower doesn't guarantee security, but the fact that they receive these benefits shows that Blake is genuinely looking out for them.

The people of Slytherin understand all too well what's behind this.

......

Regulus himself didn't need to study. The second-year exams were like eating fried eggs, toast, or grilled steak to him; how much he ate depended entirely on how much he wanted to eat.

There's no need to memorize knowledge points; the knowledge in my head far exceeds the curriculum syllabus, so there's no need for review. All the free time is spent in the library.

Hogwarts' alchemy collection was indeed too small. The few textbooks I brought back from France, which I bought in the Arcades of Marseille, were more complete than the school library's entire stock. After reading them, there wasn't much left to read.

The rest of the books worth reading are all in the restricted section, including a set of Illusion Spells. Normally, the lady can't find him at all, and even when the library is closed, it doesn't affect him. On the contrary, it's quieter, making it more efficient for reading.

An early manuscript copy of Nicolas Flamel, in its original French, documenting Flamel's alchemical experiments over the course of thirty years before the discovery of the Philosopher's Stone.

Amidst numerous dead ends, records of failures, crossed-out formulas, and repeatedly revised marginal notes, a line or two of brilliant deductions occasionally emerges.

Paracelsus's "The Theory of Transformation" discusses the boundary between magical and non-magical matter, which overlaps with his Disintegration Curse system.

The Disintegration Curse shatters the target's physical structure, and alchemy redefines the shattered matter.

Paracelsus proposed a similar theoretical framework in the sixteenth century. Although his expression was very archaic, the two paths did indeed meet at the same point.

An unsigned ancient book of spatial magic, its parchment edges yellowed and brittle, the ink on some pages faded to almost invisible.

It records the theoretical deduction of folded space by an unknown wizard in the fourteenth century, which echoes his existing spatial anchor point system.

Six hundred years ago, that wizard proposed the hypothesis that spatial folds could be artificially fixed. Although it was not realized, the deduction process was very valuable to Regulus.

There is also a forbidden book on defense against the dark magic, "The Structure of Curses and the Principles of Curse Removal," which does not teach how to cast curses at all, but focuses on how to identify the triggering mechanism of curses and dismantle pre-set triggering curses.

He spent three nights gnawing on it, and now he can easily take down Bella's tricks next time.

In my spare time, when I have nothing to do, I go to check on the Whomping Willow. The one I brought back from Cornwall is almost fully grown now, after half a year.

It was moved from the open space behind Greenhouse No. 4 to the outside of the Screaming Shed, to be accompanied by another Willow Tree that Beats People, with the two trees about 30 meters apart.

The new plant is definitely wild; it's taller and has thicker branches than the old one, hits harder, and swings more wildly.

New buds sprouted from the tips of the branches, their tender green leaves glistening in the June sunlight.

Its roots had completely penetrated the soil of Hogwarts and connected with the magical veins below, giving the whole tree a vibrant sense of life.

Regulus would check on it every few days, channeling a burst of natural magic into it. Each time he approached, the branches of the Man-Beating Willow would tremble slightly, as if it had recognized him.

Baruch got along quite well with the tree.

When Regulus channeled his magic, it jumped off his shoulder, climbed up the tree trunk, and lay down at the fork in the trunk. Its eight legs gripped the bark, and its spider head peeked out from between two branches. The white spots around its eight eyes lit up as it sensed the growth of the leaves.

The 'beating willow' will extend a thin twig and gently pat its carapace, just enough to scratch an itch.

Baruch, being a polite spider, stuck out a small wad of silk from his rear end and stuck it to the branch as a return gift.

The spider and the willow tree were together, creating a strange scene, but both seemed quite comfortable.

A month has passed just like that.

......

June 13th, exam week.

The transformation test involves cross-transformation, turning a guinea pig into a cushion the size of a guinea pig, while preserving the texture of the fabric and ensuring accurate volume proportions before and after the transformation.

With a flick of Regulus's staff, the guinea pig's outline softened, flattened, and tassels grew from its edges, its fur transforming into a velvety texture—all in two seconds, a single, perfect shaping.

McGonagall walked past his desk, glanced at the fabric texture of the cushions and the tassels in the corner, nodded, and went to check on the next student.

In the Charms exam, Professor Flitwick had students work in pairs to simultaneously cast two spells of different natures and then merge them at the target location.

Regulus was paired with Avery, arranged by Flitwick, who probably thought it would be safer to have Black mentor Cuthbert.

Avery cast a Glowing Charm first, and Regulus followed with a Color Changing Charm. The two spells met in the air, and the white light of the Glowing Charm was dyed deep blue by the Color Changing Charm, exploding into a small ball of blue sparks at the target location.

Then, in reverse, Regulus cast a glowing spell, and Avery, on a whim, cast a levitation spell.

The two spells collided in mid-air. The glowing spell spun towards the window, crashed into the glass, and shattered, turning the entire window pink.

Professor Flitwick's expression was indescribable, but he didn't say anything. He lowered his head and drew a circle on the grading sheet, but judging from the gesture, it didn't look like a circle.

During the Potions class exam, which focused on the practical preparation of forgetfulness potions, Slughorn paced back and forth in the classroom with a smile on his face, occasionally stopping to look at the students' cauldrons.

Regulus finished ten minutes ahead of schedule; the color and consistency were perfect, and pale blue steam was rising from the crucible.

Slughorn walked over, looked down at it, nodded in satisfaction, and then gently tapped the edge of the crucible with the small silver spoon in his hand.

"Mr. Black, please sit and wait for the other students to finish their exams. Be quiet and don't disturb others."

The pot next to them was billowing black smoke, and a Hufflepuff wizard was frantically adding mistletoe berries in an attempt to salvage it.

Regulus sat upright in his chair, while Baruch peeked out from his sleeve, glanced at the smoking pot, and then withdrew.

The Defense Against Magic test assesses practical skills and defense. Professor Ezra Vance drew a dueling platform in the middle of the classroom and had students take turns going up to receive his spells, testing their defense and evasion.

When it was Regulus's turn, Vance cast three disarming spells in a row, much more powerful than in the previous tests, and they were glowing red even in the daytime.

He sidestepped the first one, deflected the second one with his wand, and cast an Ironclad Charm on the third.

Vance paused for a moment, then put away his wand and said, "Very well, Mr. Black."

Then they circled it on his report card.

In the herbalism exam, Professor Sprout had the young wizards go into the greenhouse one by one to care for a poorly growing Devil's Web plant and repot a Mandrake plant.

The Devil's Web is afraid of light. Most students use the Glowing Charm to repel it before operating it, but Regulus doesn't. He goes straight for it, and the vines of the Devil's Web automatically loosen as soon as they touch his fingers, slowly retracting and curling up quietly.

As for mandrakes, he knew them very well. He quickly changed the pot, and Professor Sprout nodded in satisfaction.

The written exam on the history of magic covered three turning points in the fairy rebellion and the evolution of the relationship between wizards and fairies over five hundred years. Regulus finished the exam in twenty minutes and then stared blankly out the window for the rest of the time.

The astronomy exam involved drawing star charts. The exam was held at night in the Astronomy Tower, where Professor Sinnis had them draw the orbits of Jupiter's moons using a telescope.

Regulus didn't need a telescope; the stars in the sky were clearer in his mind than they were in a telescope.

He drew half of it with his eyes closed, then opened them to complete the other half, handed in the paper, and descended the tower.

The week of exams is over.

Second grade is over.