Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

In late June in the Scottish Highlands, dawn breaks early; the sun has already climbed over the mountains, and its rays spread from the east, casting a bright line on the railway tracks.

The platform at Hogsmeade Station was packed with people, suitcases rattled along the stone slabs, owls flapped their wings in their cages, and toads croaked in pockets.

The young wizards squeezed onto the train in twos and threes. Some chased each other on the platform, some waved to people outside the windows, and some struggled with their suitcases while holding owl cages.

The scarlet Hogwarts Express stopped on the platform, steam billowing from the engine and turning into golden mist in the morning sunlight.

Regulus walked slowly, without any luggage in his hands. Baruch leaned on his shoulder, his spider head turning back and forth in the crowd, glancing at every suitcase that passed by.

He originally intended to Apparate directly from Hogsmeade back to Grimmauld Place, but didn't want to spend most of the day on the train. After thinking it over, he boarded the train anyway and decided to wait until he reached King's Cross Station.

Slytherin's fixed carriage was at the back of the train, the curtains were half-drawn, and sunlight streamed in through the gaps, casting streaks of light on the table.

Regulus leaned against the seat by the window, and Baruch climbed onto the windowsill from his shoulder, his two front legs gripping the glass, his amber eyes staring out the window.

The train started moving, the carriage swayed, the Hogsmeade platform slid backward, and the distant castle silhouette shrank into the silhouette of the hills, getting smaller and smaller until it was blocked by a mountain and disappeared.

Avery sat across from them with an unseemly posture, one arm draped over the window frame, his face beaming with excitement: "Did you know that Comet Corporation has released a new model?"

The Comet 260, just released last month, features a full oak handle and a re-engraved acceleration rune on the tail. It's said to be 15% faster in a straight line than the Seven Star Sweep!

He gestured with both hands in the air, his eyebrows dancing with excitement: "I'll ask my father to order one for me, and while I'm at it, I'll renovate the Quidditch pitch at home. The iron rings are too old; last time one almost fell off the pole and hit me on the head."

Dumbledore's speech in the Great Hall yesterday was very clear: the situation, choices, and allegiances.

Avery didn't have much to choose from. The Cuthbert family had already chosen their side, and now they were standing firmly with the Black family. In his view, their position was clear, their direction was clear, and their future was bright.

In the past, upon hearing those words, he might have scoffed on the spot and then vented his frustrations back in his dorm.

But after spending two years with Regulus, he learned one thing: when to speak and when to shut up.

Regulus never made any public statements about the faction, and Avery, after observing this for two years, learned to do the same.

So all he could think about was the holiday.

Alex, sitting next to him, casually asked, "Do you have a Quidditch pitch at home?"

"Of course," Avery said matter-of-factly, "and they're huge."

Hermes' eye twitched when he heard this.

The Moorseb family has plenty of land, but Abrose won't build a Quidditch field for his son.

He didn't like it either.

Once Avery starts talking, he can't stop.

"Our family is planning a vacation to the south of France. There's a manor near Nice by the sea. Regulus, would you like to come along? It has a private beach—"

Regulus turned his gaze from the window and glanced at him.

“Okay, never mind,” Avery said, taking his hand off the windowsill and shifting his position, continuing with an animated expression. “I also want to go to Diagon Alley. Last time I saw a set of fairy silver cufflinks in the window of the jewelry store in Greengers. They would go perfectly with my dress. My father said I need to grow a bit taller to be worthy of that style, so I said I’d buy them first and keep them until I’m taller—”

Hermes, his head throbbing from the noise, chimed in from the side, "Are you still growing?"

"Of course I'm still growing! I'm only thirteen!"

Hermes scoffed and ignored him.

He sat next to Regulus, his legs crossed on the seat, twirling his wand in his hand, with an indifferent attitude.

All that Dumbledore talked about yesterday—the choices, the allegiance, the advice not to give yourself away—was like the wind blowing past him.

The Moorcybe family didn't even need to choose; they were already utterly corrupt. There was an understanding between Abrose and Dumbledore, but the right side had been chosen since the Moorcybe generation.

Regulus glanced at him sideways: "Don't just sleep during the holidays. Practice your Occlumency every day, don't slack off on your magic control, keep up with your magic perception, and maintain your physical fitness for the school check-up when school starts."

Hermes rolled his eyes upward and tilted his mouth toward the window.

Avery chuckled gloatingly across from him, and Alex's lips curled up in a smile as well.

Hermes glanced at them and said in an unfriendly tone, "Don't laugh, you two. If Regulus hits me, I'll hit you back. Wait until school starts."

He's had a really tough time this semester. He's been knocked down countless times in the house, always ending up on the ground.

But the progress is substantial. The reaction time is faster, the strikes are more accurate, the spells are more powerful, and the rhythm of spell casting is more precise. After taking more hits, one naturally knows how to take hits in the most energy-efficient way.

For Hermes, progress and strength are the only options; being beaten is just that.

He even wanted to hurry home and fight Abros to see if his father could beat him down in as long as Regulus.

"You like getting beaten up?" Avery asked, tilting his head with a smug look on his face.

Hermes raised his chin, as if to say, "You don't understand: I like getting stronger; getting beaten up is just a bonus."

Regulus, too lazy to watch Hermes and Avery bicker, turned his gaze to Alex.

His brow has been furrowed ever since he returned to his dorm last night.

He knew what was going on outside; his family was a branch of the Rozier family, bordering a pureblood clan.

His parents had insignificant jobs at the Ministry of Magic, keeping a low profile and not taking sides. But the situation was escalating, and the worst thing for marginal figures was being forced to choose sides. In some people's eyes, not choosing was equivalent to standing on the opposite side.

Regulus looked at his profile but didn't say anything to comfort him; he had already said everything he needed to say before.

Alex's parents also knew what to do: keep their heads down, do their work, and don't meddle. That's how ordinary people live.

"Don't let your guard down during the holidays," Regulus said. "You'll need the strength later."

Alex turned around, his worry fading, and nodded.

Avery listened as Regulus recounted Hermes and Alex's holiday training, then waited and waited, but his turn didn't come.

He moved closer to Regulus, his expression unusually serious, but a little hesitant: "Then I won't go out to play during the holidays. I'll have my father hire a sparring partner for me, specifically to practice dueling, one-on-one—"

Hermes chimed in from the side, "Didn't you just say you were going on vacation to Nice?"

"We'll practice after our vacation! Vacation first, practice later!" Avery slammed his hand on the table, indignant. "My father said that only practicing without resting is how house-elves do it!"

"House elves don't train either," Hermes frowned. "They do the work."

"That's different—never mind, you wouldn't understand."

Hermes chuckled.

Alex chuckled softly, and the atmosphere in the carriage relaxed.

After the train had been traveling for a while, the scenery outside the window changed from the Scottish Highlands to the hills and pastures of northern England, and the sunlight shifted from due east to south.

People kept coming into Regulus's carriage. The more tense the situation became, the more those in the pureblood circle who had access to the Black family wanted to get close to him.

First to arrive were several senior Slytherins, members of the Holy Twenty-Eight.

Regulus rose from his seat, straightened his collar, shook hands with the other man, and exchanged a few polite words.

"Happy holidays." "Give my regards to your father." "See you in autumn."

His posture was relaxed, his tone was gentle, but there was a clear sense of distance. He displayed impeccable, pure-blooded social etiquette.

Then came some pure-blooded wizards who weren't from the Twenty-Eight Clans but whose families were still quite respectable. Regulus didn't get up when these people came in, and then it was Avery's turn to appear.

His smile was appropriate, his greetings were thoughtful, and after seeing people off, he would say a few more words, such as "Let's have tea together sometime during the summer vacation." He was doing a better and better job in foreign affairs reception.

Hermes sat cross-legged by the door, his face expressionless to everyone who entered. His lips were downturned, his eyes were vacant, and his naturally gloomy and unhappy face looked as if someone owed him a huge sum of Galleons.

The view outside the window transformed into the London suburbs, with densely packed brick houses, warehouses and factories lining both sides of the railway tracks, and chimneys belching gray-white and orange-red smoke in the afternoon sun.

Around 4 p.m., the train began to slow down, and the train swayed a few times. The platform of King's Cross Station appeared outside the window.

The train stopped, and people began packing up their belongings in the carriages.

Hermes jumped off his seat, grabbed his suitcase, and left through the door.

Avery kept talking: "Early July is the best time to go, it gets too hot after that—"

Regulus stood up, scooped Baruch up and put him in his inner pocket, then followed his friends out of the carriage.

Platform 9¾ was already packed with people. Parents were waiting at the exit. Some were tiptoeing to find their children in the crowd, some were waving and calling out names, and some were simply pushing through the crowd to squeeze towards the train.

Abros Murseb stood at the far end of the platform, away from the crowd, leaning against an iron pillar. Tall and thin, dressed in a black robe, he seemed completely out of place amidst the bustling station.

Hermes nodded briefly to Regulus and the others, and then walked straight in that direction.

As Abrus saw his son approaching, he glanced in Regulus's direction, nodded from afar, then turned and disappeared into the crowd with Hermes.

Old Cuthbert stood a little closer, dressed in a respectable dark gray robe, leaning on a walking stick.

He looked towards Regulus through the crowd, nodded slightly, and smiled warmly.

Avery saw his father, waved and yelled, then rushed over with his suitcase.

Old Cuthbert's polite smile turned into helplessness. He reached out and patted the back of his son's head as he rushed towards him, then Apparated away.

Alex's parents were standing in the middle of the platform. He told Regulus to see him when school started and then left.

Regulus stood alone on the platform as the crowd surged past him.

His gaze swept past the crowd toward the exit towards Gryffindor.

found it.

Sirius stood on the other side of the platform, surrounded by Potter and his gang.

James Potter put his arm around Sirius Black's shoulder, talking non-stop and gesturing excitedly.

Sirius Black smiled broadly, revealing all his teeth, while Lupin stood beside him, a gentle smile on his pale face.

Peter stood a little further away, his small eyes darting around on his round face.

Charles Porter stood behind them, with gray hair, square-rimmed glasses, and a very energetic look, one hand on James' shoulder.

Euphemia Porter stood beside him. She was short, with white hair, and a warm smile on her round face. She was reaching out to straighten James's collar. James struggled a couple of times but couldn't break free, and his ears turned a little red.

The whole family was together.

Regulus looked at it for a moment, then reached out and smoothed out the wrinkles at his collar, pulling his shoulders back slightly.

Take a step, walk through the crowd, and head that way.