Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

England at the end of August was clinging to the last vestiges of summer.

Around 6 p.m., the sunlight slanted in from the west, turning the lavender fields on the lawn of Malfoy Estate into a fuzzy purple-gold color.

Several white peacocks strolled along the edge of the lawn, their wings and tails tucked in. Occasionally, they would lower their heads to peck at a grass seed, taking a few steps and then stopping, looking extremely carefree.

Regulus was wearing a dark gray everyday dress robe with the Black family crest pinned to the collar. It wasn't very formal, but it was definitely not an outfit for casual outings.

Lucius and Narcissa waited at the entrance of the manor.

Lucius wore a formal silver-gray robe with a dark green lapel pin, and his platinum hair gleamed coldly in the twilight.

Narcissa stood beside him, her light blue dress reaching her ankles, a dark belt tied around her waist, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, making her look gentle and graceful.

Lucius came forward first, reached out and shook hands with a warm and firm grip, then put his arm around Regulus's shoulder and patted him, his manner very friendly and casual.

"You're here. Was the journey smooth?"

Narcissa also came over, smiling as she placed her hand on Regulus's other arm and gave it a gentle shake.

"I've been waiting for you for a while."

"Cousin," Regulus smiled at Narcissa, "a new dress?" Narcissa turned slightly and lifted the hem of her dress, "I saw it in Diagon Alley a couple of days ago. Lucius said it looked good, so I bought it."

Lucius's hand was still on Regulus's shoulder, and he leaned a little closer to him, his smile unchanged, but his voice lower: "Many people who weren't on the invitation list have come."

A flash of annoyance crossed his eyes, and his eyebrows furrowed: "It was originally a matter involving a dozen or so people. I told you in the letter, young man, sit down and have a seat."

Somehow the word got out, and more than thirty people came in the afternoon, and they're still coming; now there are more than fifty.

They all came on their own, without saying hello or delivering invitations; they just walked straight to the door.

Lucius's anger was certainly not directed at Regulus.

He originally intended to organize a small gathering of a dozen or so people, to quietly drink and chat, but it turned into a gathering of over fifty quasi-Death Eaters.

He was in a very passive position when so many colleagues came to his territory.

It's no one else's fault but theirs. These days, every little thing that happens on the pureblood side is being watched, especially since the Malfoys have hired Regulus.

Regulus already knew; from the moment he Apparition landed, his magical senses had already scanned the entire manor.

He recognized about a dozen of the more than fifty magical signals; they were likely people Lucius had hired, and they were standing in the inner part of the main hall.

Of the remaining thirty or forty signals, the vast majority had a dark, condensed magical energy covering their left forearms—a Dark Magic mark. He raised his hand and patted Lucius's arm, saying nothing, but gently shaking his head with a relaxed expression.

Lucius quickly suppressed his anger and nodded.

The message has been relayed: these people were not invited by him.

Narcissa whispered from the side, "Let's go in, it's already getting lively inside."

Regulus and Lucius walked in side by side.

This shouldn't be Voldemort's doing; Voldemort's ambitions wouldn't be so limited as to do something like this.

The Death Eaters wore masks when they carried out their missions under Voldemort's orders. These guys were so eager to show their faces that they practically wanted to get close to him and make him remember them.

It is most likely a spontaneous behavior.

The fact that so many people could be gathered privately without being invited by the Malfoys indicates that a connection has been formed, creating a faction among the young Death Eaters.

Magical Texture is young and active, probably between twenty-five and thirty years old, graduated a few years ago, has blood on his hands, and has established himself in the Death Eater circle.

The so-called young and vigorous generation are enthusiastic, ambitious, and full of drive.

But actually, there aren't many strong ones; in fact, there are few. If a real war breaks out, these people will be cannon fodder. Those who charge the hardest will die the fastest, and those who use the most black magic will suffer the greatest backlash.

A surge of brainwashed fervor and muddled emotions burns out just as quickly.

When a normal person dies and is buried in the ground, over time they can be considered nutrients for the soil. But if there are still corpses after these people die, then it can only be considered pollution.

Their value is extremely limited while they are alive; they are only responsible for charging into battle. Once they die, that's it. After they die, they are even more useless and have no value whatsoever.

Regulus couldn't even muster the energy to glance at them.

There may be some overlap in the future, but it will definitely not be an equal overlap.

He remained composed as he followed Lucius across the lawn into the field.

The main hall of the manor was decorated in the style of a buffet, with a dark silver tablecloth covering the long table, silver cutlery lined up in a row, and crystal glasses stacked in three layers.

On the table were cold dishes: sliced ​​ham, foie gras, smoked salmon, delicate snacks, and desserts.

Several Malfoy elves moved quickly and quietly through the crowd, carrying trays.

There were already fifty or sixty people in the hall, dressed in formal robes and formal wear from various families. The colors varied, and the good fabrics were obviously of good quality, while the less desirable ones were trying their best to look nice.

A few people were talking quietly by the window, each holding a wine glass. In the corner, there was a set of self-playing instruments, several violin bows suspended in the air, slowly playing a soothing melody. Lucius led Regulus through the crowd to a spot further inside.

The Death Eaters on the periphery turned their gazes toward him the moment he appeared, their eyes following his movements.

No one moved forward, and Regulus didn't even look at them.

The inner circle of people and the outer Death Eaters were kept at a distance, clearly separated.

Evan Rozier was the first to greet him.

The heir of the Rozier family was tall, with slicked-back hair and a composed demeanor. He wore a dark blue formal robe with the family crest pinned to the collar.

He was a Death Eater, but not a fanatic. He was considered a leader among the younger generation. He had a direct encounter with Regulus back in his first year. He was a decent person and knew what he was doing.

His smile broadened, and he extended his hand to Regulus: "Regulus, it's been a long time."

"Evan," Regulus squeezed his hand, then released it, "How has Mr. Rozier been lately?"

"It's all good, it's all good," Evan said without much pleasantries. He stared at Regulus for a moment and then said directly, "I was there for what happened last month."

Regulus raised an eyebrow: "Oh?"

"I've never seen anything like it in my life. People who weren't there that night, seeing the photos in the newspapers, thought it was just a beam of light that smashed the houses to pieces. But when they went to see for themselves, they realized the ground within a radius of several hundred meters was completely shattered."

There were a few old guys around me who didn't say a word.

Regulus brushed it off lightly: "We've been preparing for quite a while, and the results are alright."

Evan smiled and didn't say anything more, lest it become a compliment.

He patted Regulus's arm and withdrew his hand: "Alright, let's not talk about this anymore. There are a lot of people tonight, so make yourself at home."

Regulus nodded politely to him.

Lucretius Burke waited nearby, his expression relaxed to the point of being casual. He was closest to Regulus and considered him a friend.

"The batch of goods we talked about last time is still here, I reserved it especially for you," he said, shaking hands with Regulus. "There are a few interesting pieces, I was going to sell them if you hadn't come soon."

"Keep it, we'll check on it later," Regulus tilted his head slightly, his tone relaxed. "What has Mr. Burke been up to lately?"

"Don't even mention it," Lucretius said, his lips twitching down slightly, his tone tinged with helplessness. "Mr. Burke went to Eastern Europe last month, picked up a batch of good stuff, and was detained for two days when he came back."

The Ministry of Magic's inspections are sometimes lax and sometimes strict. When they're lax, you can get away with anything; when they're strict, they'll scrape the paint off your broom handle to check its composition.

Regulus raised an eyebrow: "Who's causing all this trouble?" Lucretius shook his head: "It's hard to say. A new guy joined the Enforcement Division and immediately wanted to make a name for himself. He investigated a few shops in Knockdown Alley."

The investigation was stopped by higher-ups after it was completed, then another investigation was conducted a week later and stopped again. It went back and forth like a joke.

Regulus chimed in, "There's a fight going on inside the Ministry of Magic."

"That's right," Lucretius curled his lip and said disdainfully, "After Mintham came to power, the personnel in each department were in complete chaos. Everyone wanted to squeeze up and everyone wanted to step on other people's heads to get ahead."

The shops in Knockturn Alley are the perfect targets. Investigate a shop selling dark magic items, write it on their resume—it'll look good without offending any important figures.

Regulus shrugged. "Don't important people buy dark magic items?"

"Buy them all, just don't tell anyone."

Theodore Nott stood to the side, his face expressionless, trying to mimic his father's indifference, but his imitation was poor and he looked like he was holding his breath.

After graduation, he took a minor position at the Ministry of Magic. Not long after leaving school, some of the seriousness of a student still lingered on his face.

He walked toward Regulus and extended his hand: "Mr. Black."

"Nott." Regulus shook his hand briefly, then let go.

This guy had questioned him before in school, but after being taught a lesson by old Nott, he shut up. Now that he's out in the world, those school squabbles mean nothing to him. Veronica Yaxley walked over, and Regulus noticed her change.

She was still as tall and slender as ever, wearing a dark green long dress, her golden hair tied in a low ponytail, and her features were still as sharp as ever, but she had a more mature charm than when she was a class monitor.

"Regulus." She smiled slightly, tilted her head, and her golden ponytail swayed over her shoulder.

"Veronica," Regulus nodded, his tone still warm, "give my regards to Mrs. Yaxley."

"My mother has mentioned you several times," she said, casually brushing a stray hair behind her ear. "You never even come to visit during the holidays."

"Let's talk about it after school starts."

"I've already graduated."

"cough."

Regulus couldn't respond to that. You've graduated, so what are you talking to me about?

A young man dressed in a royal blue robe squeezed through from the side, making exaggerated movements and wearing a flamboyant smile.

"Mr. Blake!"

Adrian Selwyn, a young man from the main Selwyn branch, in his early twenties, with a frivolous aristocratic air. "Rosalie always talks about you at home," he said, shaking Regulus's hand firmly, "She adores you. Knowing I was coming to see you today, she wanted to come too."

Then he exaggeratedly looked around and saw the hall full of Death Eaters with their gloomy faces.

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Obviously, this isn't the right place for her."

"Miss Selwyn is very talented," Regulus said politely.

"Ha ha!" Adrian burst into laughter, then squeezed Regulus's hand tightly. "She'll be happy for a week to hear you say that!"

He walked away with a smile.

Behind them were the Parkinson family and the Shafik family. Regulus nodded to them, shook hands, exchanged a few polite words, and then moved on.

After Regulus finished with his business, Lucius said softly in a particularly helpless tone, "Crawb and Goyle want to see you."

He tilted his head slightly and said in the tone of introducing his pets, "These two are with me; you know them too."

Two large men emerged from behind Lucius, one with a round face and a thick neck, the other with a square face and a thick neck, both wearing brand-new dark robes.

Their expressions were very serious, so serious that they were a little nervous. The two of them reached out their hands to Regulus almost at the same time.

"Mr. Blake." "Mr. Blake."

Regulus shook hands with each of them.

Crabbe, with his round face and honest, earnest expression, asked, "Lucius said he has a baby at home. Would you like to teach him a thing or two?"

Lucius stood to the side with a subtle expression.

Square-faced Goyle nodded in agreement. "Can our kids sit in too? Or... if Lucius's kids learn it, could they teach us too?"

Lucius's lips twitched, and a faint blue vein appeared on his forehead.

He didn't stop him, but just gave Regulus a helpless look and finally gave him a "you figure it out" expression.

Regulus looked at the two big guys.

Beneath his honest, earnest, and seemingly foolish exterior lies a shrewdness; he uses the most direct methods to climb the social ladder.

Interesting.

Regulus glanced at Lucius with a slight smile, while Lucius was feeling a bit embarrassed by the two of them.

"Why not?" Crabbe and Goyle both grinned from ear to ear.