Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

For the next three days, Regulus did not practice Apparition again; once you've mastered it, you've mastered it.

He spent all his time in his room, where his desk was covered with all sorts of random things.

A few quill pens, two ink bottles, a roll of parchment, a few Gallon and Sicco coins, and the Black family brooch he usually wore.

Regulus picked up the brooch and placed it in his palm.

He closed his eyes, his senses expanding.

The spatial structure of the room appeared peculiar to him; it was an invisible network composed of countless nodes and connections.

Each object occupies a specific node on the network, and the density, strength, and vibration of these nodes are all different.

The knot of the brooch was in the palm of his hand, fine and stable.

He wanted the internet to move on its own.

Just like Kreacher did, fold the net, bring the two nodes closer together, and then pass the beads from one to the other.

The theory is simple, but doing it is another matter entirely.

On the first day, the brooch remained completely still.

The next day, the air around the brooch began to distort slightly, and the edges of the object wobbled slightly.

But the brooch itself remained firmly in his palm, not moving even a millimeter.

On the afternoon of the third day, Regulus changed his approach.

He no longer thought about folding the entire space, as that was too difficult. He only wanted to move the small area around the brooch, even if it was just a tiny bit.

With intense concentration, magic condenses in the palm of the hand. There are no incantations; it is purely a combination of willpower, perception, and magic.

He looked at the nodule where the brooch was, imagining it like a buoy on the water, gently sliding towards another empty nodule, letting it slide naturally along some invisible slope.

The air around the brooch fluctuated violently, and the spatial structure rippled with invisible waves.

The brooch, at the center of the ripples, began to blur and become transparent, and then it disappeared.

Regulus suddenly opened his eyes; the brooch was no longer in his palm.

It wasn't on the table, on the carpet, or in any corner of the room; not even a trace was left.

Three seconds felt like time was being stretched out, each second passing incredibly slowly.

Until a soft "snap" sound.

The brooch fell to the edge of the desk, about five centimeters away from its original position, and its silver surface felt slightly hot to the touch.

Successful.

Although it only moved five centimeters, although the brooch was almost lost somewhere, and although the magic consumption was ridiculously high, it was indeed a success.

This was something he figured out on his own, a rudimentary application based on his understanding of space.

Regulus picked up the still-warm brooch and ran his fingertips along the Sirius design on it.

In wizard combat, mobility is one of the most crucial advantages.

No matter how powerful your spell or how strong your magic, if you can't hit anyone, it's all for nothing.

Apparition is considered an important spell because it allows wizards to appear and disappear suddenly, striking and running away, making it impossible for opponents to defend against.

However, Apparition has its limitations: it requires preparation time, cannot be used continuously, has a range limit, and can be completely blocked by the Anti-Apparition Charm.

If he can master this ability of spatial warp in the future...

It doesn't necessarily mean jumping around all over the place; of course, you can do your best.

It could also be the spell itself; a disarming spell is shot out, disappears halfway through its flight, and then reappears behind the enemy.

Or a protective armor spell could be cast on the enemy from a great distance, shielding them from even casting spells.

Even thinking further ahead.

If spatial perception were stronger, would it be possible to directly see the internal structure of an enemy's body?

Is it possible to make a spell explode directly in the enemy's internal organs or brain without going through any external defenses?

All those armor spells, protective spells, and all those other protective spells have become useless.

Moreover, there is no intermediate process; the attack hits the target instantly, which is practically a causal strike.

Regulus put down the brooch and walked to the window.

It was already dark outside, and snowflakes started falling again, landing one by one on the glass and quickly melting into tiny water droplets.

The lights of London blurred into indistinct patches of light behind the snow curtain, making it impossible to distinguish which lamp belonged to Muggles and which to wizards.

The idea is good, but it's too early.

These ideas are currently just castles in the air; the foundation hasn't even been laid yet.

He's just scratched the surface of spatial magic, barely scratched the surface of nature magic, and is still building his foundation in transfiguration. None of his skills are solid enough, and each one requires time and effort to hone.

But at least we have a direction.

A path no one else has walked, a path forged from our own understanding of the essence of magic.

......

During dinner, Walbuga brought up Sirius again.

"That unfilial son!" She cut the steak with such force that it sounded like she was hacking at an enemy, the knife and fork clattering against the plate with a jarring sound.

"He didn't come home for Christmas, not even a letter! What kind of spell did the Potters cast on him that made him abandon his own surname!"

Orion kept his head down, eating the roasted potatoes on his plate without saying a word.

Regulus quietly cut his own lamb chops, slicing the meat into evenly sized pieces before putting them into his mouth one by one.

They all knew that Volbuga didn't want to discuss anything with them; she just needed to vent.

If someone responds, she can go on and rant for half an hour.

But if you don't answer, she'll stop yelling when she gets tired of it; it comes and goes quickly.

Regulus thought to himself, this is just the beginning.

Sirius didn't come home for Christmas this year, and Walbuga cursed him all night. If he doesn't come home next year, she'll curse him for three days straight.

Once she's no longer coming back and moves into the Potter family's house, she'll have to rehearse this whole story every Christmas.

From calling him a rebellious son to a traitor, from rejecting the surname to deeming him unworthy of it.

It was like a regularly performed play, with lines memorized and actors' emotions rehearsed.

Walbuga cursed for about ten minutes before finally stopping.

She put down her knife and fork, picked up her wine glass, and took a big gulp of red wine. The anger on her face had not completely dissipated, and her cheeks were flushed with excitement.

Then she turned to Regulus: "Oh, right."

Her tone suddenly softened, carrying a deliberately casual air, as if she had inadvertently recalled some trivial matter.

"Several people have been praising you to me lately—Mrs. Malfoy, Mrs. Nott, and Mrs. Yaxley—and they all implied that you're destined for great things."

She looked at Regulus with curiosity in her eyes, and with that usual expectation tinged with a hint of showing off.

Regulus knew that look all too well; he'd seen it since he was a child.

"What exactly are you..." Volbuga leaned forward, his voice low, as if trying to find out some secret.

"How far have we gotten? They're talking about it so mysteriously, like you'll be the Minister of Magic tomorrow."

Regulus put down his fork, picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth, and then looked at Orion at the other end of the long table.

You can't tell the whole truth about Wolbuga.

She is not Orion; she cannot rationally analyze the pros and cons, nor can she carefully keep secrets.

Once she found out, it meant that all the ladies in her tea party circle knew.

Tell her today, and tomorrow the whole pureblood community will be buzzing about how amazing the youngest son of the Black family is.

But we can't completely stay silent either.

She needs something tangible to show off, to prove that her son is better than other people's.

If you don't give her something to talk about, she'll keep asking questions or making wild guesses, which is even more troublesome. Who knows what outrageous conclusions she'll come up with?

Orion received a look from his son and put down his wine glass.

"Regulus does indeed have some talent." He spoke as calmly as if he were giving a report at the Wizengamo Conference.

He has almost mastered the first-year curriculum at Hogwarts, and he is also learning some of the higher-level content on his own.

Walbuga's eyes immediately lit up: "Like what?"

"For example, Apparition," Orion said truthfully. "I trained him a couple of days ago, and he succeeded on his first try."

"Really?" Volbuga's voice rose eight octaves, his face beaming with surprise. "He's only eleven!"

"Yes." Orion nodded and continued listing.

"Regarding potions, Professor Slughorn said that his current level has surpassed that of fifth-year students. Professor McGonagall personally instructed him in Transfiguration and even gave him a copy of her own research notes."

Professor Flitwick of Charms often gave him extra points, saying his level far surpassed that of his classmates.

With each item he mentioned, Walbuga's smile widened and the light in his eyes shone brighter.

After he finished speaking, she seemed to be glowing, her joy and pride radiating from within almost overflowing.

"I knew it!" Her voice was full of undisguised smugness: "My Regulus has been different since he was a child! What are those ladies' sons compared to him?"

This Quidditch is great, that potion-brewing is excellent, our Regulus can do it all!