Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Those around noticed Regulus emerge from beside the pillar.

Two Blacks, one a madwoman who was crushed and married off, and the other the Black family heir who crushed her, are about to meet at the Malfoy family wedding.

The conversation completely stopped. Some people stood still, holding their wine glasses and staring in their direction, while others stepped back and others moved forward.

Regulus stopped in front of Bella, relaxed, holding a wine glass, a friendly smile on his lips. His gray eyes met Bella's dark eyes, and he said in a gentle tone, "Cousin Bella."

Bella stopped in her tracks, her dark eyes fixed on him, a complex mix of emotions flashing within them: hatred, fear, and perhaps something she herself couldn't quite put her finger on.

His lips moved slightly, his voice soft and gentle, creating an eerie contrast with his frozen face: "Regulus."

Regulus stared at her for a moment, without a trace of hostility or wariness, even with a hint of the intimacy one would show when meeting a relative.

Then he stopped looking at her and his gaze naturally shifted to Rodolphus.

"Rodolphs," his smile remained, but his tone was more casual, filled with genuine concern, "I heard you moved? How's the new place?"

Rodolphus's face visibly darkened; his lips twitched, the muscles on his cheekbones twitched, and the gloom in his eyes was almost overflowing.

He opened his mouth, and his lips moved slightly.

Bella spoke first, her voice still gentle: "Still tidying up."

She looked away from Regulus's face, no longer looking at him, and strode towards the main hall.

Rodolphus followed behind her, pausing briefly as he passed Regulus, his chest heaving once, before continuing on without retaliating.

The expressions of the surrounding guests were priceless. Some quickly looked away, some coughed and bowed their heads, and some turned around with their wine glasses, pretending to talk to the person next to them.

He burned down Lestrange Manor himself; grass grew on the ruins, and it was never rebuilt on the original site. Everyone present knew this.

In front of a room full of purebloods, he asked them how their new house was, what did that mean? Did he want to burn it again?

Regulus was a little disappointed. How could he tolerate this?

He wasn't trying to cause trouble, but if Narcissa's wedding got into a mess, it wouldn't look good for anyone.

But since we've already run into him, it wouldn't be right not to ask. After all, he's the one who caused the accident, and it's only right and proper that we should inquire about the aftermath of my cousin and her husband's situation.

This is basic courtesy.

So he raised his voice and, speaking to the two receding figures in a very enthusiastic tone, asked, "Where are you staying? I'll visit you sometime."

Bella continued walking forward without turning her head or reacting at all.

Rodolphs's composure faltered slightly; he shrugged, his steps faltered, and the distance between him and Bella suddenly shrank to the level that only truly loving couples should maintain.

"Is the money enough?" Regulus added, earnestly urging, "If it's not enough, just tell the Black family. They're all relatives, no need to be polite."

Bella remained unresponsive, her black silhouette already reaching the entrance to the main hall.

Rodolphus's neck turned red, his steps became stiff, and he followed Bella step by step, looking more like a follower now.

Regulus watched the two figures disappear into the crowd towards the main hall, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

Bella has indeed become more tolerant, while Rodolphs hasn't improved much.

He finished the last sip of his drink, glanced around, and saw that the people who had been gathered there had dispersed, each returning to their own social circles with their glasses. The buzzing of conversation resumed, but their eyes were all furtively glancing in his direction.

Regulus's gaze swept across a corner of the hall, pausing for a moment as Dag Roll stood in the shadows of a corridor corner.

He wasn't very tall, had a narrow frame, and looked thin and bony, but not weak. It was as if his bones were covered by only the necessary layer of muscle, with nothing superfluous.

The dark brown robe was made of decent fabric, but it lacked any subtle patterns or embroidery, making it stand out from the Malfoy household's abundance of silver and gold threads.

He has a long face, high cheekbones, rough skin, deep-set eyes, and brown eyes that look at things without moving or showing any warmth.

Most of his hair was gray, combed back to reveal his entire forehead, with a scar on his temple that stretched from his hairline to the end of his eyebrow.

Standing next to him was Dorfin Roll, half a head taller than his father, thin, with narrow shoulders, a fair complexion, and dark eyes with a gentle light, exuding a refined and gentle demeanor.

Wearing a dark brown robe in a similar shade to Old Raoul's, but made of newer fabric and more presentable, he seemed very approachable.

The two Luo Ers, one big and one small, stood together, a stark contrast: one cold, the other warm.

Regulus walked over with his wine glass in hand.

"Mr. Roll." He extended his hand to Dag Roll, his tone gentle and his posture upright.

Dag Rol looked at him, his brown eyes scanning him up and down, his gaze neither malicious nor friendly, just blank.

He reached out and shook hands; the palm was rough, the grip was strong, and the voice was hoarse and rough: "Blake."

Regulus's gaze shifted to Dorfin, and he extended his hand: "Dolfin."

Dolphin looked at him, and a warm, friendly smile immediately bloomed on his face. He reached out and shook his hand firmly.

"Regulus," his voice warm and sincere, "I was just talking to Professor Slughorn about you. He said you got another O in Potions?"

Regulus smiled and said in a friendly tone, "The professor has always been too kind."

"Our professor," Dorfin waved his hand and shrugged, "always manages to take credit for himself when praising anyone. 'Of all the students I've taught,' 'Back in the Slug Club,' how many times have you heard that?"

A flash of memory crossed Regulus's eyes, and he thought seriously for a moment: "I can't count them all."

"I've heard this for seven years, my ears are practically calloused," Dorfin shook his head and laughed, then sighed, "but I can tell he's genuinely praising you."

Regulus adopted a humble expression: "And you? You've graduated, what are your plans for the future?"

Dolphin raised an eyebrow, not answering immediately. He slightly raised his right hand, lowered his eyes, glanced at his sleeve, then looked up and smiled at Regulus: "Following that master, I'm still learning. There's not much I can do, but it's ultimately my own choice."

Regulus nodded in realization, a hint of envy flashing in his eyes, while Dolphin also revealed a smug expression at the opportune moment.

After reminiscing about the old days and their youth, Regulus bid farewell to the two Rolls in a warm and friendly atmosphere and turned to leave.

Old Luo has no ill intentions, at least not on the surface. He doesn't give any feedback when he senses malice. If he does, then he's hiding it very well, which shows that he's very skilled.

Dolphin was far inferior. He acted well, and his superficial acting deserved an eight out of ten, but his malice was blatantly obvious, brighter than the three-tiered crystal chandelier above his head.

To this day, no one knows what grudge this person has against the Black family, or what grievance they have against him; it's utterly inexplicable.

It doesn't matter, there's no need to distinguish right from wrong anymore. Since this person has already chosen the right path to death, let's just do it.

The saying "one person makes a mistake, the whole family suffers" perfectly illustrates this point.

The ceremony was about to begin, and the guests moved from the hall and corridors toward the garden. In the middle of the crowd, Bella walked up to Abraxas.

She held a rectangular black velvet box in her hands, which was undecorated except for a small silver symbol in the corner, with a snake coiled in a circle, its head holding its tail.

"This is my master's gift." Bella held the box forward with both hands, her posture almost reverent.

The word "master" is perfectly natural when it comes from a house-elves, but when it comes from a wizard, there is only one person in the entire British magical world who is called that.

The conversation of several wizards nearby abruptly stopped.

Abraxas accepted the box with both hands, his face filled with gratitude. He nodded and then solemnly opened it.

The box was lined with black velvet, and a silver mirror lay inside.

Oval-shaped, palm-sized, with an ancient English inscription engraved on a silver frame. The inscription, in a rudimentary script, reads, "Reflecting what is desired."

The mirror surface is as smooth as new, without any signs of oxidation, but the patina on the silver mine is deep and must be several hundred years old.

Regulus's senses swept over it.

Clean, free from malicious intent, eavesdropping, and curses, it is a pure magical mirror, extremely expensive, very old, with an aged and stable magical quality.

Abraxas closed the box and bowed slightly to Bella: "The Malfoy family thanks you for your kindness, sir."

Bella nodded and stepped back.

Everyone present saw the gift and received the signal.

Voldemort presented the Malfoys with a gift befitting the family's wedding—a tasteful and valuable present.

Sending a wedding gift to this level shows that the Malfoy family's reputation is being juxtaposed with his own.

Regulus took a sip of his drink.

The magic of the mirror itself is ancient; the inscription reflecting what is seen is a distant relative of the Mirror of Erised, but its power is much weaker.

It's basically about showing the user the version of their face they most want to see at that moment, making the person looking in the mirror feel better.

An antique-grade magic beauty mirror, a gift for the bride.

His taste is impeccable; at least when it comes to choosing things, Voldemort never compromises his standards.

Forget about that diary from his school days; back then he was a poor man and didn't have much to choose from.

But later on, his eye for choosing things improved. Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's golden cup, Ravenclaw's tiara—each one of these was a heirloom with nearly a thousand years of history.

Voldemort didn't just pick up any valuable object, tear its soul apart, and stuff it inside; he was truly selective, and he had a discerning eye.

The same applies to giving a wedding gift: a silver-framed antique mirror, crafted during the heyday of alchemy, with an elegant inscription, suitable for the occasion, and carrying a fitting meaning.

A gift that perfectly captured the Malfoy family's dignity, the bride's sentiments, and his own taste.

All I can say is that aesthetics have nothing to do with one's stance.

The wedding ceremony was held on the central lawn of the manor's back garden, where a space expansion spell expanded the area to accommodate three or four hundred people standing comfortably.

The guests lined up in an arc on both sides, leaving a straight passage in the middle. At the end of the passage was a low platform, a two-step square white marble platform, with the coats of arms of the Malfoy and Black families overlapping in silver powder.

A huge crystal ball, at least three feet in diameter, floated above the low platform. Inside the ball, a slowly rotating silvery-white light enveloped the entire ceremony area in a soft and even glow.

The lavender walls on both sides swayed in the breeze, filling the air with their fragrance. White peacocks strolled back and forth behind the walls, their silver bells tinkling.

The room fell silent as Narcissa emerged from the main entrance of the building.

The white wedding gown trailed a silver line across the lawn, its satin gleaming warmly in the sunlight. Her long golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, and the diamonds and pearls on her silver tiara trembled gently with each step.

Segnas III held her arm, his tall, slender figure slightly turned toward his daughter, his lips still pursed, his face serious.

The two walked step by step along the passage toward the low platform, where Lucius was already standing.

Her platinum blonde hair shimmered silver in the light of the crystal ball, and her grey-blue eyes watched Narcissa approach, struggling to maintain her composure.

Segnas removed Narcissa's hand from his arm, placed it in Lucius's hand, and then stepped aside.

Abraxas stood directly in front of the low platform, facing the guests, while Orion stood to one side of the platform as a witness for the Black family.

"Today, the Malfoys marry the daughter of the Blacks," Abraxas's voice boomed, "the bloodlines of two families meet here, and two names are linked here."

He turned to Lucius and Narcissa and took a wand from inside his robe.

It's very old, and the style is clearly not modern. The staff has a deep amber luster, and there are traces of repeated repairs on the surface with fine cracks. The handle at the end of the staff is worn smooth and shiny, as if it has been handled by countless hands.

The Malfoy family has passed down their ritual wand for generations.

"Reach out your hands."

Lucius and Narcissa each extended their right hand, palms facing each other, fingers interlocked.

Abraxas touched Lucius's wrist with the tip of his ritual wand, and a golden line seeped into the skin from the tip, spreading out along the inside of the wrist to outline the Malfoy family crest.

Then he looked at Orion.

Orion stepped forward and took out an old wand as well.

Made of ebony, with a tiny black opal embedded in the tip, the staff is entirely black and is older than the Malfoys' staff.

He touched Narcissa's wrist with the tip of his cane, and silvery lines seeped from the tip, spreading out the outline of the Black family crest on the inside of her wrist.

The two family crests were simultaneously drawn on the newlyweds' clasped wrists.

Golden and silver-white patterns began to grow towards each other, extending from their wrists along their fingers, crossing their clasped hands, and meeting at the point where their palms met.

The moment they touched, two colors of magical light burst forth from between their palms, blooming in a spectacular display.

Golden and silvery-white threads of light intertwined, swirled, rose, and wove a small crown of light above the two people's clasped hands.

After spinning a few times, the crown of light slowly dissipated, turning into tiny specks of light that fell onto the lawn, onto the shoulders of the two people, and onto everyone's robes.

The room fell silent for a moment, then applause broke out.

Lucius raised his other hand, wiped away the remaining shards of light from Narcissa's wrist, and then took her hand in his.

Narcissa looked up at him, her long golden hair shimmering in the light.

Then the groom kissed the bride, making the scene even more lively.

Regulus stood in the front row, a slight smile playing on his lips.

That's great, they're a good match.