Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

At breakfast, Avery was still rambling on about his holiday experiences.

He waved his fork, describing the size of the ballroom at Malfoy Manor, the magical murals on the ceiling that changed patterns, and the exquisite, unnamed treats served by the house-elves.

Alex listened attentively, occasionally chiming in with a question about the details, while Hermes kept his head down and ate, the clinking of his knife and fork on the porcelain plate making a soft sound.

Regulus slowly chewed his toast, feeling a rare moment of reverie.

Those holiday days felt like they were seen through a thin veil, clear yet distant.

The Malfoy family dinner, the gathering of the pure-blood family, and the meaningful words exchanged with Lucius on the terrace.

The places I visited while inspecting the family business, and the brief and decisive battle in the dark alley of Flip-Over Alley.

All of this happened within a short, busy, and fulfilling holiday.

He did those things, thought about those issues, and handled those relationships as an adult.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he was back at Hogwarts, attending classes as a first-year student.

James Potter, sitting at the Gryffindor table, was loudly recounting his broom-fighting contest with Sirius during the holidays, while Peter Petitrou, looking on with envy, asked him all sorts of questions.

Over at Ravenclaw, a few girls were discussing the colors of the hairbands they bought for the holidays, while a few boys at Hufflepuff were complaining about having too much homework and almost not being able to finish it.

On Slytherin's side, aside from Avery's boastful recounting, the others were also talking about their holidays.

Who bought a new flying broom? What delicious food did someone eat while traveling in France? What interesting little gadgets did someone find in Knockover Alley?

These topics are trivial and mundane, tinged with childish excitement and complaints.

Regulus suddenly found all of this quite interesting.

That pure attention to the details of life, curiosity about new things, and pursuit of simple happiness.

He hadn't experienced this feeling in so long that he had almost forgotten he was only eleven years old.

......

The first class of the new semester is a spell class.

Professor Flitwick stood on the stack of books and announced today's content in a shrill voice: "Grinning mouth! It's a funny little spell that makes the other person's mouth grin uncontrollably and keep them laughing."

The spell itself is harmless, but when used properly, it can effectively disrupt an opponent's spellcasting; after all, it's very difficult to chant a spell while laughing.

He demonstrated the gestures and pronunciation, then tapped his wand, and a pink beam of light shot toward a training dummy on the platform.

On the mannequin's wooden face, the mouth immediately stretched into a wide arc, as if it were laughing silently.

"Now, practice in pairs!"

Regulus and Avery are in the same group.

It is indeed just a simple spell, which many first-graders learned before the start of the school year, and it is not difficult at all.

Avery succeeded in making the dummy's mouth open in one go, but the smile was small, like a forced smile, which looked somewhat eerie on the dummy's face.

A pink light shot out from the tip of Regulus's wand, and the dummy's mouth immediately stretched to its ears, its entire face contorted into a comical, maniacal laugh.

"Perfect!" Professor Flitwick jumped up from the mat. "Accurate spell, consistent effect, Slytherin +5!"

Regulus nodded politely in thanks, but his heart remained unmoved.

He already knew this spell; he didn't need to learn it deliberately. He must have seen it once in some book or by some young wizard, and then he naturally knew it.

The spell is simple, requires little magic, and has a direct effect; it's a typical beginner-level prank spell.

But since he was in class and the professor had taught him, he still practiced diligently.

The wand is waved, light shoots out, the dummy grins, deactivation, let's try again.

The movements were fluid and not difficult at all.

As I practiced, my mind started to go blank.

Then a thought suddenly popped into my head.

Regulus put down his wand and raised his hand when Professor Flitwick surveyed their table.

Several Slytherin and Ravenclaw students nearby perked up their ears at the sight of this action; Regulus Black was about to ask another question, the first time this semester.

"Professor," Regulus said politely, with a hint of respect, "I have a question about the grinning mouth."

Professor Flitwick walked over, looked up, and said curiously, "Please speak, Mr. Black."

"Does this spell only work on humans?"

"It works on most living things," Professor Flitwick replied. "Mammals, birds, and even some reptiles."

However, this little spell may not work on certain magical creatures with strong magical resistance.

Of course, it depends on the situation. If the caster is a powerful and skilled wizard, and the spell is potent enough, it will be effective against most creatures.

He thought the problem was over, but Regulus wasn't.

"What if the target creature doesn't have a mouth?" Regulus continued to ask.

"Or how would a spell work for a creature whose mouth and excretory opening are the same, such as a coelenterate, jellyfish, sea anemone, or coral?"

The classroom fell silent. What was the question?

Why would organisms share a single opening?

Some people looked at each other blankly.

Several Ravenclaw students frowned, as if they were seriously considering the question.

Several Slytherin students wore strange expressions, wanting to laugh but not daring to.

Professor Flitwick was visibly taken aback.

He pushed up his glasses, thought carefully for a moment, and then cautiously answered, "This question...is very creative."

As far as I know, no one would cast such a spell on a coelenterate.

In theory, if the target does not have a clearly defined mouth structure, the spell may not be able to be located, or its effect may be greatly reduced, or it may even be completely ineffective.

"And what about earthworms?" Regulus asked again. "They have mouths and anuses, but they are both small openings on the same body segment."

Or a slug, with its mouth on the underside of its body, which is very small.

For example, some deep-sea fish have mouths in strange positions, or they don't have mouths in the traditional sense at all.

"Mr. Black," Professor Flitwick interrupted him, his tone gentle but with a hint of reminder.

"The examples you mentioned are indeed rarely studied. Charms studies mainly focus on what works on humans and common magical creatures."

As for those... creatures with special structures, the spells may need to be specially adjusted to take effect.

Regulus nodded: "Understood, Professor Flitwick, thank you for your explanation."

Professor Flitwick gave him a meaningful look: "You're welcome, Mr. Black. Questions are welcome in my class."

Regulus was certainly not really interested in which part of a coelenterate's mouth and which part was its excretory opening; such a question had no practical value other than curiosity.

He suddenly realized something through this little spell: the "Grinning Mouth" spell, from the day it was invented, was designed to make the target's mouth grin open and unable to close.

The spell's creators didn't consider coelenterates, earthworms, slugs, or even any other creatures besides humans.

This spell was created for only one purpose and one effect.

There is no underlying principle.

There is no complex analysis of the magical structure, no in-depth research on the target's physiological structure, and no scientific explanation of the neuromuscular control behind the grinning action.

It's just that one person thinks, "I want to make others laugh."

Then, through some means—perhaps intuition, inspiration, or countless trials and errors—they found the magical way to bring this idea to fruition.

Then this incantation was passed down, written into textbooks, and taught and learned by generation after generation.

A spellbook will include hand gestures, pronunciations, precautions, and even variations and advanced applications.

But I can't write it down, so I don't know why this gesture combined with this sound can produce this effect.

Because nobody knows, or rather, too few people know, so few that the knowledge has become a secret, or has simply been lost to history.

Through this little spell, Regulus suddenly realized that magic cannot always be understood or analyzed.

Regulus had previously tried to understand magic using science, reason, and logic.

Magic is energy, spells are codes, gestures are guidance, and effects are output, like a sophisticated program.

This allowed him to quickly master a large number of spells, and even improve, optimize, and create new applications on his own.

But some magic might not be like that at all.

The Guardian Charm requires positive emotions and the deepest, most genuine desires of the heart.

A guardian angel doesn't appear because he understands the chemistry of happiness or the philosophical definition of protection; it appears because he genuinely feels happy and genuinely wants to protect something.

That is the power of the mind, the projection of will, something more essential, more direct, and more idealistic.

The little incantation of grinning and shouting might be similar.

The person who created it didn't think too much; they just wanted to make people laugh, and they succeeded.

Those who learn it don't need to think too much; just remember the gestures and pronunciations, practice the magic control, and you'll be able to use it.