Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

As the banquet progressed to its middle, the lively atmosphere in the main hall gradually subsided.

After several rounds of drinks and two changes of cold dishes, the white wine on the house-elf's tray was replaced with amber-colored flamed whiskey.

The automatically playing instruments in the corner switched to a slower tune, the bows drawn long and slowly, drowning out all the voices in the hall.

There is an invisible line separating the people in the inner circle from the Death Eaters on the periphery.

On this side of the line, Lucretius leaned against the long table, chatting about the Knockout Alley situation. Evan Rozier occasionally chimed in with a glass in hand. Veronica leaned back on the sofa armrest, Theodore Nott stood to the side with a stern face, and Adrian Selwyn flitted back and forth in the crowd.

On the other side of the line, thirty or forty young wizards were gathered in twos and threes. Some were holding wine glasses and talking in hushed tones, while others were looking towards the inner circle, their gazes sweeping over Regulus before looking away.

There is never more than one group within a group.

The dozen or so people from the core circle that Lucius invited all came from the same social class, either from one of the Twenty-Eight Clans or close to it.

The group on the periphery is different. They climbed up the ranks by being Death Eaters and became well-known in the circle, but their foundation is not deep and their position is unstable.

These two groups of people stayed in the same hall, drank the same wine, ate the same cold dishes, and were no more than thirty paces apart, but they would never blend in.

On the inner circle, Lucius has the Dark Mark on his arm, as does Evan Rozier.

Nott didn't have one; he had a position at the Ministry of Magic, and being branded too early would hinder his infiltration, so he'd deal with it later. Veronica didn't have one either; the Axley family was a Death Eater family, but she herself hadn't been branded yet, and it was hard to say whether she would be in the future.

It's even less likely that Lucrezius would have one. As Voldemort's former boss, Old Burke probably knew the nature of this half-blood employee better than anyone else.

Even those with the mark couldn't get along with the people outside. The same mark on the arm would result in all sorts of different things.

The core circle looks down on those on the periphery. They look down on them because of their status, position, and background. These things were already defined before the Black Magic Mark was applied.

Regulus was naturally the core of the core. He stood in the middle of the crowd, holding a wine glass, listening to Lucretius complain about the chaotic law enforcement of the Ministry of Magic, while dodging the flirtatious glances that Veronica occasionally gave him.

Among the Death Eaters on the periphery, one guy stood out.

Augustus Roque, holding a wine glass, stepped out from the crowd.

He was twenty-four or twenty-five years old, of medium build and rather thin, wearing a dark brown formal robe with a brass lapel pin engraved with his family crest.

Their ancestors started out trading magical creatures, and after two generations of accumulation, they had several shops and a small breeding farm on the edge of Knockturn Alley.

It wasn't exactly respectable, but it wasn't exactly low-class either; there were plenty of surnames in the British pure-blood circle that were even less prestigious than the Rocky family.

He had above-average grades at Hogwarts and went straight into the Death Eaters after graduation. He worked there for a few years, got blood on his hands, and gained some fame and status among the younger generation.

He had long resented the Black family's policy of not branding themselves with any side. Why? Everyone else was branded, everyone kept their heads down and worked diligently, but the Black family wasn't. The Black family heir had barely even seen the master of the house. Why should they enjoy the treatment of allies?

He knew Blake was strong; he had witnessed the massacre of his tribe in the wasteland more than a month ago and had listened to the story a hundred times afterward. He had no doubt about Blake's strength.

But power is one thing, and stance is another.

The owner's attitude towards the Black family has always been ambiguous. If someone can probe the Black family's true attitude on behalf of the owner, this information will be valuable.

He came to ask this question, and if he succeeded, it would be a merit, as he did something that his master couldn't do.

If he messes up, it's his own fault. The owner won't protect him, but he won't blame him either, because the thing he tried turned out to be useful.

He believed in this logic and felt that he was sharing his master's burdens.

He stepped out from the outer crowd, crossed the open space between the two groups, and walked towards the inner circle with a smile on his face.

People in the inner circle noticed him.

Lucretius stopped mid-sentence, his gaze sweeping over Rock's face. He closed his mouth, his expression hardening. The relaxed demeanor he had displayed while chatting with Regulus vanished, replaced by blankness and coldness.

Veronica's charm vanished; she straightened up from the sofa, her eyes turning cold, her features sharp and dangerous.

Evan Rozier glanced over, said nothing, and remained expressionless, while Nott's already stern face tightened even more. Someone not on the invitation list had infiltrated the inner circle from the periphery—in any social setting, this was a clear signal of offense.

He wasn't even offending any one person, but rather the identity and status of everyone present.

The people in the inner circle stopped drinking and talking, staring expressionlessly at the intruder, and then dispersed slightly.

They knew he wasn't there to see them.

Regulus turned his gaze in that direction.

He was all smiles when he was talking to Lucretius about being raided in Knockturn Alley, and he seemed relaxed when he was talking to Veronica, but now all of that is gone.

The temperature in his gray eyes dropped, becoming indifferent and cold. He looked at Rock walking towards him with no hostility or anger, just indifference.

He didn't release any magic; he was still the same person, standing in the same spot, holding the same wine glass.

But with just a change in his gaze, those around him felt pressure, unsure whether it was psychological or the natural aura of a powerful wizard.

The people in the inner circle exchanged glances and then made way for Regulus and the newcomer.

Augustus Rock walked up to Regulus.

Regulus looked at him. His appearance was insignificant; the most valuable thing about him was the black magic mark on his left forearm.

Her overall charm is youthful, vibrant, restless, and energetic, with a drive to push forward.

There was tension and fear, but they were suppressed and buried beneath the fervor and excitement.

Regulus vaguely remembered a small family making a living on the edge of Knockturn Alley.

Rock stopped three steps away from Regulus. He bowed slightly, held his wine glass in front of him, his smile faded a little, but his breathing was rapid and his eyes were bright.

He began in a flattering tone: "Mr. Black, it is an honor to meet you tonight."

Regulus remained expressionless.

Rock continued, his tone neither overly humble nor overly friendly: "After what happened with the Roll family, the entire magical world has been talking about your deeds, and I believe everyone here—"

He held his wine glass, looked around, then turned his gaze back to Regulus's face: "—We all deeply admire you."

Regulus didn't reply or nod, but just held his wine glass and looked at him indifferently.

Rock took a breath and quickened his pace a bit: "Those of us who work for our master have talked about this many times in private."

The power of the Black family, the legacy of the Black family, everything the Black family displayed that night—all of Britain witnessed it.

I think no one would question your abilities, but that's precisely why we want to ask a question—

His voice rose, and a fervent emotion seeped from his words, wrapped in a respectable shell, but not very well.

“We’ve been thinking—” his eyes brightened further: “—when will the Black family truly stand with us, under the same banner?”

After he finished speaking, his expression was sincere and earnest. He truly felt that he was expressing the sentiments of a group and that the person on the other end should be moved by his sincerity.

"I'm not speaking for myself, but many of us wonder if the Black family heir will one day—"

He raised his chin, his eyes gleaming with fervor: "—Together we will serve our master."

He used this statement as a point of reference, thinking he could elevate the whole issue to a higher level, making it impossible for Blake to directly refuse.

All eyes were drawn to him. The core members were watching him, the Death Eaters were watching him, and even the little elf carrying a tray in the corner stopped in his tracks.

Some of the uninvited Death Eaters in the hall stepped forward, craning their necks to get a better look.

Some of these people knew about it, and it's even possible they were in cahoots, knowing that someone was going to ask this question tonight.

Some people stepped back, creating some distance, realizing something was wrong and wanting to avoid getting involved. Everyone in the inner circle was shrewd.

The war of annihilation of the Roll family, the two reasons Regulus used to initiate the family revenge contract, and the two offenses that Dorfin Roll committed against him, were all investigated, questioned, and inquired about by everyone afterwards.

The Belmont surname is now a hot topic. All the pure-blood wizards in Britain know the whole story of the Belmont incident, what Dorfin Roll did behind the scenes, and what kind of temper Regulus has.

If you provoke him, he'll wipe out your entire family. And now another one has appeared. At the Malfoy family's banquet, he said these words to Regulus Black in front of everyone.

Regulus let him finish speaking, and waited until all the sounds in the hall subsided and there was a moment of silence.

The sound of the bow plucking the strings was still ringing out, soft, distant, and elegant.

He took a step forward, stepping out of the semi-circle formed by the inner circle, and stood alone in front, his voice completely flat: "What's your name?"

Rock paused for a moment, thinking Blake knew him. His smile faltered for a second before he resumed it.

"Augustus Rock".

Regulus took another step forward, his steps light and easy, like a stroll, but with each step forward, the space opposite him was compressed a little.

His gaze remained indifferent, conveying nothing outwardly, yet the pressure was palpable.

"Whom do you work for?" Rock struggled to stay upright, his smile faltering. He opened his mouth slightly, then changed the subject: "We...we all work for our master."

Regulus listened and replied with an "Oh".

Rock's expression froze. He thought he was using his master's name as a shield, but the other party just said "oh" and dismissed it.

Regulus ignored him, turned to Lucius, and asked in a flat tone, "Did you invite this man?"

The atmosphere in the inner circle tensed up a bit.

Lucius's expression was grim. His gaze was fixed on Rock, then shifted to all the uninvited Death Eaters in the hall, scanning their faces one by one.

The Malfoys lost face after being humiliated by this group at their banquet, but these people were, after all, colleagues, and it was hard to say whether there was any higher-ups among them.

Regulus's question was clear: while seemingly asking about the guest list, he was actually asking whether this person's actions represented him and whether his words represented the Malfoy family.

Lucius could only give one answer, his voice firm: "No."

Several people on the periphery lowered their heads, and Rock's shoulders slumped as if he had been hit by something.

Lucius stepped forward; as the master of the house, it was his job to handle this situation.

But just as he took that step, Regulus glanced at him, his gaze indifferent, conveying nothing more than a fleeting look. Lucius stopped, his leg still raised, paused, and then slowly lowered it.

Anger surged from my chest straight to the top of my head.

This man's actions on Malfoy's territory, turning his banquet into this situation, have caused Regulus to feel resentment towards him, even if only slightly.

Regulus was the Malfoys' most steadfast ally, their most loyal relative, and Narcissa's cousin.

Any behavior that displeases Regulus under the Malfoys' roof is tantamount to slapping the Malfoys in the face.

The Malfoys, with their extensive network of businesses, social connections, and influence within the Ministry of Magic, have a very wide reach, including the trade in magical creatures.

He couldn't wipe out an entire family from the ground like Regulus did, nor could he kill the other party outright.

But he could make them suffer worse than death, make that family unable to live a single peaceful day in England, make them lose everything they had worked for, and turn them into poor people.

He retreated to his original position, made a small gesture with his right hand towards a darker shadow, then suppressed all his impulse and anger, his eyes turning cold.

Narcissa stood next to Lucius, put her hand on his arm, and a moment of wariness flashed across her face.

She trusted Regulus to handle it, and knew that with a room full of Death Eaters, the way to deal with it couldn't be by taking action.

She also noticed Regulus's attitude when he questioned Lucius; his tone was neutral, but she could sense something was amiss. Her gaze shifted between Regulus and Lucius, and her heart tightened slightly.

Regulus turned to Augustus Rock: "So, what are you?"