Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 576 Alphad Black

The LeCoinFleuri sign hung in the sunlight, its paint a little older than when I last visited.

The café door was closed, a handwritten Fermé sign hung on the glass, the lights were off, and the tables and chairs were empty.

Regulus glanced around and went into the narrow doorway next to him, with Gaston following behind, and Isabelle and Madame Beaumont following behind.

The wooden staircase is very old; it creaks with every step—the left side crunches, the right side groans, and some steps are even concave in the middle.

When I got to the third floor, the door was open, and the light inside was brighter than in the corridor.

Regulus didn't rush in; he first used his senses to prepare.

The living room was more than twice the size of a normal one, with the walls extending outwards by at least ten meters. Several makeshift chairs were placed in the extra space, and people were sitting in them.

The bedroom door was closed, but a soft, warm light shone through the crack in the door.

The two space-expanding spells, one in the living room and one in the bedroom, have slightly different textures.

The living room is a bit rougher, more functional, with the space being forcibly extended outwards. The texture of the folds is not very even, indicating that the caster's skill level is sufficient, but not very attentive.

The bedroom one is more refined; the folds in the space are smoothed out, and the layered patterns are arranged in an orderly manner. The technique is clearly superior to that in the living room.

Good.

However, the magical quality of the living room's space-expanding effect has an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if I've seen it somewhere before.

Without thinking much, he focused his attention on the bedroom, where the situation was clearly visible from his sensory perspective.

Inside Andromeda, the magical signals were clearer, warmer, and more enveloping than when I sensed it last time, with the unique thickness of the mother body.

But it was more disordered than normal, with larger fluctuations than usual, and she was exerting force.

Encased within that layer of warm magic was a smaller and more active signal source: Nymphadora.

The baby's magic is extremely active in the womb, its vitality so strong that it almost glows in the field of perception.

The talent of Disguise Magus was activated before birth; his magical characteristics constantly changed form, jumping from one texture to another several times a second, with no discernible pattern.

When a wizard is very young, so young that he can't walk or talk, his magic is in this state.

Extremely active, completely spontaneous, without the control or restraint of the brain, capable of anything.

Before learning specific spells, young wizards often do things that they can no longer do after learning the spells. The so-called magical outburst is rooted in this uncontrolled primal activity.

It now appears that this activity begins in the fetal stage, and may even be more intense, before the unborn baby shows any signs of it.

All cognition, experience, control, and magic are in a state of complete natural release.

Regulus used his magical senses to sense the active signal for a while.

Dumbledore once said that a state of highly active magic is something many wizards deliberately pursue, and older wizards even use potions and props to experience it.

The unborn baby in front of us is naturally in this state.

Besides her own magic, Nymphadora was covered by a more stable layer of external energy: the protective mark of Betelgeuse glowed softly, its rhythmic beat contrasting with the churning of a baby.

Andromeda had several spells hanging on his body.

The pain relief spell eliminated most of the physical pain, the heart rate stabilization spell kept her heartbeat within a safe range, the slow-release energy maintenance spell continuously replenished her body, and the abdominal area was covered with a softening spell, presumably to help dilate the birth canal.

There is also an emotional calming spell that keeps anxiety and tension at a manageable level.

The five incantations operate together without interfering with each other, each possessing a professional healing quality—gentle and orderly.

The condition is okay. It's not the final stage yet, but it's coming soon. The therapist is busy inside, so I shouldn't need much help.

Come to think of it, I've never heard of a wizard having a difficult childbirth; magic is indeed incredibly convenient in this respect.

He shifted his gaze from the bedroom door to the living room.

Three or four young witches were huddled by the window. Two of them, who spoke French, were wearing Muggle summer dresses and were probably friends Andromeda knew from the local wizarding community.

The other two were a bit older, dressed in a British style, and looked vaguely familiar; I think I'd seen them at Andromeda's wedding before.

In the corner sat a young British wizard, dressed in the most presentable Muggle attire, perfectly fitting his clothes and exuding a British flair. He was most likely also a Muggle, probably a friend of Ted's.

As soon as Regulus appeared at the door, several French witches looked up at him, their gazes lingering on his face for a moment before settling back down.

A young man who looked somewhat mature for his age wore a dark gray suit, had black curly hair that fell behind his ears, gray eyes, and features that were so delicate they seemed unreal.

One of the French witches, with short blond hair, glanced at him several times, her gaze sliding from his eyebrows to his chin. She swallowed slightly and exchanged a look with her companion.

Then he looked behind him and saw a middle-aged man in a dark blue wizard's robe and trench coat, a middle-aged woman in a light blue suit, and an older woman in a healer's robe.

The first two, judging from their demeanor and attire, were clearly from the Ministry of Magic, and were probably officials.

The blonde witch glanced at her companion, and the two whispered a few words in French before looking back at Regulus.

The outline is somewhat similar to Andromeda's, the eyes are similar, and if the hair were longer, it might also resemble her. Andromeda's family members, there shouldn't be many family members attending this kind of occasion.

Andromeda has such a good-looking family? Being pretty isn't enough; being able to come is what really matters. And someone who's both pretty and able to come is even rarer!

The two French witches exchanged a glance, their reaction not particularly strong.

They had probably heard what had happened to the Black family in England, but the news was automatically diluted when it reached France and crossed the English Channel.

I know it, but I don't feel any real urgency about it.

The reactions from the British were completely different.

The two English witches almost simultaneously recognized the face: grey eyes and black curly hair. This face had been featured in the Daily Prophet for several days and hadn't completely disappeared even now.

Regulus Black, the man who destroyed House Roll, was the hottest name in the British wizarding world all summer; any conversation would eventually veer back to Black.

It's being talked about in pure-blood circles, in half-blood circles, and even among Muggle-born wizards.

The war on the wasteland a little over a month ago, the mushroom cloud, the Fiendfire, the annihilation of the clan, and the overwhelming media coverage transformed this name from the heir of the Black family into a symbol of the entire British magical world within weeks.

They came here because they were friends with Andromeda, who had been expelled from the Black family. They chose to stand by Andromeda and come to see her give birth.

They never imagined that this person would appear in a cramped Muggle apartment in Paris, outside their friend's delivery room.

One of the short-brown-haired British witches held her teacup halfway to her lips, neither drinking nor putting it down for a long time.

Another, slightly older, British witch rested her hands on her knees, her fingers unconsciously clenching the fabric of her dress.

The British wizard in the corner minimized his presence, shrinking into his chair and looking down at the tips of his shoes.

Regulus's gaze swept over the group, and when his eyes met those of the short-haired British witch, she visibly stiffened.

He glanced around, not deliberately looking at anyone, but wherever his gaze passed, some people turned their heads, and others subtly adjusted their posture.

No words were needed, nor any unnecessary movements; the air in the living room had already become almost imperceptibly stagnant.

He looked away.

A man sat on the sofa; among all the tense people, he was the most relaxed.

She was in her forties but looked several years younger than her actual age. Her skin was well-maintained, and her facial features were still quite firm. She wore a single silver stud earring on her left ear.

He was wearing a black studded leather jacket over an old T-shirt with the band Iogo printed on it. The print looked like it had been washed out, and the collar was loose.

Jeans, brown Chelsea boots, and two leather straps wrapped around her wrists.

Even in his forties, he lived like someone in their early twenties, wearing nothing from head to toe that a wizard would wear.

She leaned back on the sofa, crossed her legs, rested one hand on the armrest, and stared at him.

Gray eyes, black curly hair, longer than Regulus's, a bit messy, with a strand tucked behind his ear.

Her facial features were naturally beautiful, showcasing the exquisite craftsmanship of the Black family, but this was largely obscured by her attire and relaxed demeanor.

In the British wizarding world, this might be considered disrespectful; in the eyes of French wizards, it would probably be even more outrageous.

Regulus's magical perception had already reacted to him.

It comes from the Black family; the concentration is not high, and the magic level is average, but it is pure.

His magic lacked Orion's control, Walbug's sense of order, and even Sirius's overly active tension.

It remained in its original place, untouched by anything, unconstrained by anything, scattered and free.

Regulus mentally reviewed the information. There were only a few people in the Black family, and he knew everyone. Even those he hadn't met before were still there, hanging on the tapestries, even if they had been burned off.

Walbuga's younger brother, his uncle, was excommunicated in 1960 for his inappropriate preference for Muggle items, Alphard Black.

He had never met this man; he wasn't even born when Alfard was expelled; the name never appeared positively in the daily conversations at 12 Grimaud Place; and Walbuga always spoke of him with curses.

But he had used the things in that storeroom: a vacuum tube radio, The Times, National Geographic, and hardcover notebooks.

He spent two days fixing the radio and listened to the live broadcast of the Apollo 11 moon landing on July 20, 1969, the day Armstrong stepped onto the lunar surface.

It makes sense that Alphad would be at Andromeda's house.

Two people were expelled from the Black family, one because they liked Muggles, and the other because they married a Muggle-born wizard.

People rejected by their families find each other outside the family, and it's only natural for them to stay in touch.

Gray eyes meet gray eyes.

Alphad silently sized him up for a while, scanning him from head to toe, and then burst out laughing.

He smiles just like Sirius Black; it's the same way he does it: first he grins, then he shows his teeth, and then his whole face lights up.

Alfard stood up from the sofa and strode toward him.

Gaston took a step forward without making a sound, moving from Regulus's side and behind to his side and in front of him. He didn't take out his wand or make any other movements; he simply adjusted his body position.

Alpha stopped in his tracks. In the middle of the expanded living room, his gray eyes shifted from Regulus to the middle-aged man with short, gray hair in front of him.

I was a little surprised.

bodyguard?

So impressive?