Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

The table fell silent. The candlelight flickered in the glass dome, and Orion's fork paused in mid-air before slowly resting on the table.

Walbuga was holding a wine glass, which hovered between his lips and the table, suspended in mid-air.

She looked up at Regulus, her gray eyes widening, her lips slightly parted, and a look of shock flashing in her eyes.

The act of genocide is nothing special, but the magic of the family revenge contract has not been used for hundreds of years.

She knew what it was, as did the Black family. It was an ancient rule that existed before the secrecy laws, the most solemn war ritual between pure-blood families, and the last time anyone used it was centuries ago.

The old parchment in the family library was inscribed with rites; she had flipped through it when she was a child, thinking it was just a piece of yellowed history.

She stared at Regulus's face, her gaze shifting back and forth between his eyes and mouth.

The son's expression showed no trace of joking, nor was it a test or a request for permission; he had already made up his mind.

In a very short time, Volbuga's expression changed. Her pupils contracted, the corners of her mouth flattened, and her face transformed from that of a mother who had been concerned about what her son had eaten and how many points he had scored into that of a different person—sharp and focused.

"Isolde Rol," her voice carried a gentle laugh, but the light in her eyes was anything but gentle: "The Greengrass family is having a summer dinner next month. She goes every year, always wearing that ugly dark purple dress, and always with a cheap set of jewelry."

She looked at Regulus: "There are so many people at the dinner party, it's so noisy, no one will notice where I am."

I can find an opportunity to meet her alone—in the garden, at the corner of the corridor, at the door of the bathroom, anywhere.

A drop of potion could be put into her wine glass, or a needle could be hidden in her glove; simply walk over and touch her, and it would be done silently, without anyone noticing.

After the dinner party, she went home and lay in bed for the night. The next morning, the Luo family would find her completely cold.

Regulus looked at his mother with a somewhat puzzled expression, then glanced at Orion out of the corner of his eye. His father was calmly taking a sip of his wine.

Walbuga paused here, picked up his glass and took a sip, the couple's actions mirroring each other: "If you don't want to go unnoticed, that's fine too."

"I could be more direct. I could walk up to her, in front of everyone, and cast a Killing Curse, or not a Killing Curse, but a Wither Curse, a Blood Boil Curse, a Suffocation Curse, anything will do."

She put down her glass, her eyes softening. "Which one do you prefer?"

Regulus opened his mouth.

He knew his mother had changed, from that fanatical, pure-blooded noblewoman who treated him like a medal to a woman learning to be a normal mother.

But at that moment he saw another side of his mother, a woman from the Black family, whose first reaction when her son said he was going to war was to hand him a weapon.

This reaction was a bit beyond his expectations. She didn't even ask why. The questions a normal mother would ask, such as why you did this, whether there were other ways, or whether it was too dangerous, were not mentioned at all. She went straight to how to help kill someone.

She already had a target in mind, a time, a place, and even several ways to die.

He had never known his mother could be so decisive.

He had prepared a speech about what the Roll family had done, why now, and the strategic significance of this matter for the Black family, but none of it came in handy.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, finally only saying, "Thank you, Mother."

Walbuga continued, explaining which tea parties and dinner parties Isolde Rol regularly attended each year, which occasions were crowded and suitable for poisoning, and which occasions were sparsely populated and convenient for direct action.

If Regulus wanted to remain silent, she had at least three potions she could drip into someone's cup at a tea party.

Speaking of which, if it needs to be very violent—

She looked up at Orion: "If the Greengrass family dinner isn't convenient, we can change the venue. The Ministry of Magic, have her kneel down in the Ministry's hall, in front of all the directors and staff."

Or have your father lure her to Wizengamot, claiming there's a cross-family business dispute that needs mediation; once she's inside, she won't be coming out.

Orion finally looked up, his lips twitching slightly.

As he spoke, Volbuga leaned back, resting his hands on the armrests of his chair, and prepared to stand up: "I'll go find—"

Regulus also got up, walked around the dining table, went to his mother's side, and gently placed his hand on her shoulder, pressing her back a little.

"Mother, we haven't started yet," he said in a relaxed tone, with a hint of affectionate teasing. "Let's eat first; we haven't finished the lamb chops yet."

Walbuga was pushed back into his chair, and he looked up at him, his brow furrowing slightly: "Do you know what Isolde Rol has been saying about the Black family behind their backs?"

Regulus, his hand still on his mother's shoulder, asked cooperatively, "What are they saying?"

"She said we have a traitor in our family, and a madwoman. What's left?" Walbuga lowered his eyes and said softly, "Letting her live is already an act of mercy on my part."

Upon hearing this, Regulus's lips curled into a slight smirk: "Then you shouldn't be so lenient next month."

Volbuga looked at him, his eyebrows slowly relaxing, his lips moving, and finally he snorted through his nose.

She reached out and patted the back of his hand: "Sit back and eat, the lamb chops are getting cold."

Regulus sat back down, picked up his fork, and stabbed a piece of lamb chop. It was a bit cold, but that didn't affect its chewiness.

Walbuga stared at his son for a few moments, then abruptly turned to look at Orion. There was no anger in his eyes, but there was a hint of hostility.

Did you hear what your son just said? You were just sitting there swirling your wine glass?

Orion happened to be looking at her too, and the couple's eyes met briefly in the air.

"I heard you."

Walbuga narrowed his eyes. "That's all you're going to do?"

Orion lowered his eyes: "Reflect it in the study."

Volbuga stared at him, his lips pressed tightly together, then shifted his gaze from Orion back to Regulus.

She leaned back slightly, placing her hands on her knees.

"That woman from the Luo family—"

Regulus looked at his mother's profile. The light shone down from above, casting deep shadows on her brow bone and cheekbones. He rarely saw the emotions in her eyes; they were sharp and aggressive.

"She's maintained a respectable facade in front of me for over a decade; her respectable days are over."

Regulus felt his mother's love, a love that was heavy and profound.

Orion put down his napkin and stood up from his seat: "Study."

Regulus stuffed the last lamb chop into his mouth, chewed it twice, swallowed it, stood up, and followed his father out of the restaurant.

As she passed by Walbuga, she reached out and tugged at his sleeve.

Regulus stopped and looked down at his mother.

Walbuga looked up at him, the light shining into her eyes, almost blindingly bright.

She didn't say anything more, just glanced at him, squeezed his wrist with her fingers, and then let go.

Regulus smirked, patted her hand, and left.

Walbuga sat at the empty dining table, while Kreacher quietly emerged from the corner to clear away the dishes.

Her gaze was fixed on the remaining candlelight on the table, her fingers resting motionless on her knees, her eyes gleaming with a fierce yet patient light.

......

The study door closed behind me.

A green flame burned in the fireplace, and the entire wall of books gleamed with a dark luster in the firelight. The thousands of magical books were stamped with gold lettering, some of which had faded to just faint marks.

Orion walked behind the desk, sat down, and snapped his fingers.

The teapot on the corner of the table tilted automatically, pouring deep amber tea into two cups. Steam rose from the rim of the cups, carrying a hint of whiskey aroma.

Regulus sat down opposite him, took the teacup his father pushed towards him, and took a sip.

It was already dark outside the window. In London in mid-to-late June, the night comes late, and the last glimmer of gray-blue on the horizon was being swallowed by the edge of the curtains.

Orion's gray eyes looked at Regulus.

He had assumed that Regulus would spend this holiday elsewhere: deepening his alchemy, advancing the Disintegration Curse, developing the Resonance Disc industry, or whatever advanced magic he wanted to study.

This child never needs anyone to worry about his schedule. Give him a summer vacation, and he plans it more tightly than anyone else.

As a result, he said at the dinner table that he would activate the family revenge contract and destroy the Rohr family.

Orion didn't ask any more questions at the dinner table, because with Walbuga there, his wife was already in "executive mode," and it wasn't the right occasion to elaborate.

After a moment of silence, Orion finally spoke, his tone calm: "Tell me your reasons."

He needs to hear the complete information; a family revenge contract cannot be issued at will. The contract magic itself will determine whether the reason is valid.

Regulus put down his teacup, his gaze lingered on the fireplace flames for a moment, then returned to Orion.

"Dolphin Roll".

He started from first grade.

In the Slytherin common room, Arnold Belmont jumped out to force him to take a stand. The Black family's position, that lord's doubts, the pure-blood's duty—these words weren't anything special, but the Belmont family couldn't have carried that scene on their own.

If he had handled things less well, the entire Slytherin community's attitude towards the Black family would have been swayed, and he would have been dragged into statements he didn't want to make, passively placed in a position from which it would have been difficult to extricate himself.

Belmont performed in front, while Dorfen Roll watched from the shadows.

Orion listened and nodded.

He personally dealt with the Belmont family, confiscating all their properties, cutting off all their distribution channels, and driving them out of England.

He knew about this, but at the time he only knew the result, not the cause. Now Regulus has filled in the cause, and the Rohr family is behind it.

He was thinking at the time that Regulus handled things well, cleanly and efficiently. Looking back now, he realized that it wasn't just good, it was brilliant.

An eleven-year-old child, when he was being schemed against, immediately saw through the situation, knew who was in the spotlight and who was behind the scenes, knew how to fight back to minimize the losses, and knew how to clean up the mess afterward to maximize the family's interests.

Regulus continued.

The second time was at the orientation party this September, where Jeffrey Seller, a freshman chosen by Dorfin Roll, knowingly or unknowingly took the Magic Agitation Potion and was thrust onto the dueling stage to compete for the freshman champion.

The goal was to make him challenge Regulus in front of everyone, and then collapse on the spot.

If Regulus doesn't realize this and accepts the challenge, Sele will go all out in the duel, his magic will completely spiral out of control, he might faint, he might be seriously injured, or his magic might never obey him again.

Regulus will be embroiled in a scandalous affair, and a freshman will be ruined after a duel with him.

"Both times he stayed behind the scenes, never taking action himself, leaving no evidence. His memory may have been manipulated. The trail went cold when it reached him. At school, even if you pieced together the entire chain of evidence, the only punishment would be solitary confinement, deduction of points, and writing of a self-criticism. It was meaningless to him."

Regulus spoke in a flat and straightforward manner.

In his eyes, Dorfin Roll was just a problem that needed to be dealt with; problems didn't need to be hated, they just needed to be solved.