Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 580 A Tiny Baby, A Big Change

The little one in Madame Beaumont's arms, wrapped in white cotton cloth, had rosy cheeks and skin so delicate that you could see the veins underneath; unlike the wrinkled folds of a newborn that one might imagine.

Right now, her little face is turned towards the ceiling, her eyes are closed, and her mouth is wide open; she is crying.

Alfred couldn't wait any longer. He strode up to Madame Beaumont and scooped the baby up with his hand.

"Come on, let me hold you." The baby's posture is not quite standard. One hand supports the back, and the other hand is under the bottom. The angle is a bit crooked, but it's not a big problem.

He looked down at the little creature in his arms, his gray eyes wide open, his mouth stretching to his ears: "Look at this little guy! Look! That voice!"

The baby was disturbed by his movements, kicking its little arms and legs wildly, its blue fur standing up on its own outside the swaddle, and crying loudly, even louder than the cries that had come from the bedroom.

Alphad thought it was fantastic: "So energetic! So energetic!"

He gently patted the outside of the baby's swaddle, making a series of babbling sounds, whether he was trying to soothe or tease the baby, but the baby was not calmed down at all, and instead kicked even more vigorously.

Alfard chimed in enthusiastically, "You've got real energy, just like your mom. She was like that when she was little too."

The baby's arms peeked out from the edge of the swaddle and then pulled back in, and its little legs kicked twice.

Alphad leaned closer, his voice soft: "Dora; Dora; can I call you Dora? The name your mother gave you is too long."

The baby continued to cry.

"If you don't object, then I'll take that as your agreement."

People gathered around, and the older witch from England squeezed next to Alphad, craning her neck to look down, while the blonde witch from France stood on tiptoe behind her.

Someone took a small wooden horse that could spin around on its own from their pocket and waved it in front of the baby. Another French witch raised her wand, and a string of golden specks floated slowly above the baby from the tip of the wand.

The baby's eyes were closed, so it couldn't see anything. The little face turned towards the light, probably sensing the magic.

Madame Beaumont took two steps back, clasped her hands together on her lower abdomen, and smiled gently, without saying anything more.

She watched as the man in the studded leather jacket awkwardly held the newborn and tried to soothe her, while the young people around her took out various little things to amuse the baby.

She had been in this room for almost half the afternoon, from the moment she entered until the delivery and the cleaning up. Now she was just standing there, letting the new little life that had come into the world and the people around her stay a little longer.

Regulus approached Madame Beaumont and thanked her gently, "Thank you, Madame Beaumont."

Mrs. Beaumont shook her head, her gaze falling on the baby: "It is my honor, Mr. Black, she will be an excellent wizard."

Regulus looked over and nodded in satisfaction.

Sure enough, a tuft of blue hair.

He walked into the crowd, and the young wizards surrounding him naturally made way for him.

Alphad, holding the baby, saw him walking this way, and bounced the little one towards Regulus, showing off: "Listen to that voice, so strong! And her arms and legs are powerful too. Look at how she kicked just now, she'll definitely be formidable in the future!"

He lowered his head and sucked twice more, but the baby wasn't having it and waved his little fist in the air.

"Aren't you going to come and see?" He gestured with his chin toward Regulus and handed him the baby: "A Black family heir."

Regulus took it, and his brain instantly switched to calculation mode.

The angle of the left palm, the force with which the right hand supports the back of the head, the arc of the arm bend, how to fit the baby's spinal curve, and how much force to use to support the baby safely and comfortably.

He even laid a thin layer of magic pads on the surface of his palms and forearms, soft, warm, and more comfortable than cotton.

His movements looked natural and his expression was casual, but from a technical point of view, he had just completed a full set of biomechanical calculations and magical aids in about a fraction of a second, down to the angle of each bend in the baby's spine.

Almost no one noticed, except for Madame Beaumont.

She nodded slightly in acknowledgment, and Regulus returned the same slight nod in gratitude.

The baby kept fussing in Alphad's hands, kicking its little arms and legs and crying loudly, but its movements slowed down after it was handed to Regulus.

The little arms pulled back from the air and curled up in the swaddle. The loud crying turned into soft whimpers, and after a few whimpers, it stopped.

The little fist slowly loosened, and the fingers bent and rested on the edge of the package.

The baby's eyes were tightly closed, its little face pressed against Regulus's arm, and its mouth moved slightly, probably looking for food.

Newborns have almost no visual development; their perception of light is blurry, and they can only distinguish the direction and general intensity of sound. But their perception of magic is a different matter.

Even before a wizard's baby's sight and hearing are developed, its magical perception is already functioning.

Nymphadora's magic instinctively reached outwards, touching the magical pad on Regulus's arm, and then...

The edge of the magic within him.

The baby's magic receded slightly upon contact, then it moved closer, rubbing against his magic like a small animal seeking a warm place to nestle.

The magic power infused with the Guardian Mark was circulating within the infant's body. Betelgeuse's guardian will had completely transformed into Nymphadora's own magic power, but the source was with him.

The baby's magical instincts recognized this signal source, and the turmoil turned into calm, the fuss into docility.

A new life, without any cognition or consciousness, instinctively found the safest place through magic.

Regulus looked down at the little thing in his arms, and the corners of his mouth naturally turned up.

The distance was so close that I could see the tips of the baby's eyelashes trembling slightly, and the tuft of short, soft lanugo on her forehead changing color.

The transition from deep blue to light blue to silver blue is gradual, with minute changes every millisecond, and the boundaries are almost indistinguishable from the roots to the tips of the hair.

The moment I hugged her, I felt a very subtle sensation, both magical and blood-related.

There's an even deeper, less clear layer, a subtle resonance on a spiritual level, the blood of the Black family flowing in this baby's body.

Deep inside, something was responding to him, so faint it was almost an illusion, but it was definitely there.

The connection between bloodlines, the resonance on a spiritual level, a faint echo emanating from the infant's body, resonated with something within his own body.

The first of the next generation of the Black family bloodline.

The gray eyes looked at the baby's face with a gentle gaze.

He bounced the baby up and down and gently rocked him.

Baruch poked his spider head out from his shoulder, his eight amber eyes staring at the tuft of blue hair for a long time. His chelicerae opened and closed, making a very soft click.

Perhaps because it had never seen a human with such hair color before, it curiously tugged at the collar with its front paws, but it was also sensible and didn't move forward, so it withdrew.

Alphad stood to the side, his gray eyes watching Regulus hold the baby, his smile changing from a loud laugh to a quiet warmth.

The sound of Ted and Andromeda talking could be heard coming from the direction of the bedroom, but it was hard to hear what they were saying through the door.

Regulus's senses spread out, scanning the bedroom.

Andromeda's physical strength, energy, and magic were rapidly recovering. The healer's healing spells were running steadily on her body, and her condition was improving quickly.

The baby in his arms wriggled, its little mouth reaching for the sleeve of his arm, taking a mouthful of fabric, but it slipped out and the mouth moved a couple more times.

Regulus looked down at her, then gently bounced her up and found the protective mark that she had infused with magic.

The direction is clear, and protection is protection; in the end, it truly is protection.

But going deeper, the source of this protection is him, the will he put in, his Betelgeuse. The source carries direction, and the direction carries inclination.

The neutral guardianship, after being filtered through his source, will take on the color of his will.

Perhaps this integrated protection has an additional function: if in the future something that shouldn't be near the Black family bloodline tries to invade this body, some species that shouldn't be near, some union that shouldn't happen, this protection should be able to protect her from alien invasion.

His protection is his responsibility.

This refers to Remus Lupin, Sirius Black's good brother, good friend, and good partner.

No love should ever be like this!

His previous idea was to nip any potential problems in the bud and take preventative measures to avoid them from escalating.

Now, truly holding Nifadora in his arms, the resonance of their bloodlines still lingers in his consciousness. The subtle spiritual connection transforms his protective instinct towards this little life in his arms from a rational sense of obligation to protect into an emotional necessity to protect.

Lupin dares to try and see what he's thinking.

Even if Nymphadora takes the initiative, it won't work. If there's even the slightest hint of trouble, the blame lies entirely with Lupin, entirely with that werewolf.

Just because Lupin is a man, a werewolf, poor, insecure, an outsider, a morally manipulative good guy, and a self-pitying victim who uses the excuse of "I am a monster and I do not deserve to be treated this way" to get everyone to revolve around him, does not mean he can do whatever he wants.

At that point, we might have to resort to some tricks, regardless of whose brother he is or how many buffs he has.

With a pop, the little thing is blowing bubbles.

However, none of these things will happen again.

Not only from the moment he picked up Nymphadora, but even earlier, from the day he came into this world, Andromeda's fate was already different, and Nymphadora's fate changed along with it.

Marrying a werewolf, sacrificing herself in the Battle of Hogwarts, leaving behind a child without parents—none of that will ever happen again.

Then he thought about what Nymphadora would do next.

As fate would have it, Nymphadora Tonks graduated from Hogwarts, became an Auror, joined the Order of the Phoenix, and fought against Voldemort.

He was truly brave, and truly heroic.

But what is the final manifestation of the innate Metamorphosis Magus, the highest form of human transformation talent?

He changed his hair color and grew a pig nose to amuse people, but during Auror training, he was criticized by his team leader for being unreliable.

He possessed immense talent, yet it was almost entirely wasted, much like Sirius Black.

He's not even as good as Sirius. At least Sirius turned to Animax when he was in school, at least he put his talent in one direction.

Nymphadora is a natural shapeshifter who, even as an adult, still uses her talent to transform into a pig's nose.

Based on the resonance I felt in my blood when I held the baby just now, Nifadora, you dare to turn into a pig nose again?

Since Nymphadora's fate was already altered from the moment he was born, let it be altered thoroughly.

It's not just about preventing those things from happening, but also about making her strong; the Black family bloodline shouldn't be wasted.

He looked down at the baby in his arms. The little blue fur was still slightly changing color. The talent of Disguise Magus had already been working automatically in the first hour after birth.

The baby stretched its little hand upwards, its short fingers reaching out in the air a few times, but it couldn't reach anything.