Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

After the curfew, the castle fell completely silent.

Regulus enveloped himself in an Illusion Charm and walked out of the Slytherin common room.

The corridor was deserted; the portraits lay asleep, the armor stood still, and only the torches on the walls were still burning, casting flickering shadows.

He deliberately let go of all his senses.

The magical senses spread outwards, capturing every anomaly in the air.

Spatial perception is activated simultaneously, and the structure within the area is clearly presented in the mind, every gap, every corner, and even the vortex of airflow.

No house-poms were found, nor were there any other signs of surveillance.

Regulus was not surprised; Dumbledore's observation was likely intermittent, not constant surveillance.

Or maybe you just don't have any plans for today, or maybe the little elf is busy elsewhere.

Either way is fine.

He walked to the library entrance. Mrs. Pince's table was empty. He easily made his way to the restricted book section and went to the shelf with books about soul magic.

Soul Resilience: On Combating Soul Stealing and Bewitching.

Regulus consulted the documents as usual.

Defense against the Soul Reaper Curse.

The book says that the essence of the Imperius Curse is to forcibly overwrite the target's will with the caster's will, making the target unable to distinguish whose thoughts are being expressed.

The defense method is to strengthen one's own will and establish defenses.

It was a conventional approach, but Regulus thought further ahead.

During the Christmas holidays, Orion tested his mental strength with the Imperius Curse.

He successfully resisted, relying on the unwavering will forged through Star Orbit Meditation and the mental maze constructed by the Brain Occupation Technique.

But after resisting, he had an idea.

The Soul-Stealing Curse covers up the damage, but what if we go a step further?

It doesn't cover up or suppress, but replaces.

Regulus thought that if the will of the target was a castle, the Imperius Curse would send an army to conquer the castle, kill the garrison, and plant its own flag.

This is a violent conquest, which will encounter resistance and may fail.

But what if we change the approach?

Instead of sending troops, they sent architects, craftsmen, civil servants, and even spies to slowly infiltrate and modify the castle's structure, replace key personnel, and subtly make the castle their own.

By the time the target was spotted, it was too late to resist.

That will no longer be a soul-stealing curse; it may be a more advanced form of mental manipulation.

That requires immense mental strength, meticulous execution, and a deep understanding of the target's will structure.

However, it is theoretically feasible, especially for targets with weak will or mental vulnerabilities.

Regulus withdrew his magic and closed his eyes.

This idea is interesting, but it's just wishful thinking at this stage. His mental strength is not enough, and his understanding of the structure of will is almost zero, let alone its fine-grained operation.

But it can serve as a direction.

Once you advance further in Star Orbit Meditation and light up the fifth star, or even more, your mental strength will experience a qualitative leap.

You can try it then, starting with simple goals, like small animals, and then gradually upgrading.

He suddenly thought, what about small animals, or small animals that wizards can transform into?

Human body transformation is probably not possible, but Animagus might be, because Animagus is at risk of being influenced by animalistic factors.

The little mouse is great, Peter, keep it up!

Regulus continued to read other forbidden books, and each time he came, he couldn't help but marvel at how Hogwarts was a treasure trove.

It was almost 2 a.m. when I got back to my dorm.

Avery and Alex were asleep, their even breathing coming from behind the curtains. Hermes' bed remained empty, the curtains drawn tightly, and no one was inside.

Regulus washed up and lay down on the bed.

Hermes was away from his dormitory more often than he, a frequent night owl, was.

Although I went out at night last semester, at least I came back to sleep every day. But since the beginning of this semester, I often don't see anyone all night.

He no longer follows the small group; Avery has expressed his dissatisfaction with Hermes to him, believing that leaving the group is tantamount to betrayal.

Alex had no objections, and was even vaguely happy; he was a gloomy boy, not very likable.

Slytherin always has all sorts of small groups, some maintained by blood ties, others gathered by interests.

Many upperclassmen, united under Voldemort's ideology, would don black robes and silver masks upon graduation to dedicate themselves to the great cause.

Regulus didn't care about any of that; he was thinking about Hermes. Was that mission entering a critical phase?

Regulus recalled the things he had found last semester: the cursed books, the empty glass bottles, the map marking the hidden areas of the castle, and the occasional burn marks and sulfur smell on Hermes.

He's looking for something, or perhaps carrying out some family mission.

Regulus did not intend to interfere as long as it did not affect him.

Everyone has secrets, and Hermes' secrets are fine as long as they don't become a threat.

But we need to keep an eye on Hermes; he is valuable and deserves a helping hand in crucial moments.

I showed my strength last semester, but now it seems it's not enough.

Regulus closed his eyes and let his consciousness sink into star-track meditation.

Four silver stars lit up in the darkness, outlining the constellation Orion. Magic flowed in cycles with the stars, soothing the day's fatigue and slowly easing the mental burden.

Four silver stars lit up in the darkness, outlining the constellation Orion. Magic flowed in cycles with the stars, soothing the day's fatigue and slowly easing the mental burden.

go to bed.

......

On a Friday afternoon in late January, the Spells classroom was half empty.

Professor Flitwick formally invited Regulus to attend the Advanced Charms Seminar, but in reality, only Regulus and a few upperclassmen were present.

Regulus knew that this was a Hogwarts tradition, where professors would invite truly gifted young wizards to receive individual instruction.

Regulus readily agreed, thinking to himself, "Professor Flitwick is already in place, so how far behind can Professor McGonagall be?"

He had already prepared questions for Professor McGonagall.

Professor Flitwick stood on the stack of books, with only five people in front of him.

Three seventh-year students, two Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff, and one sixth-year Gryffindor, sat in the front row, quills and parchment already prepared.

Regulus sat in the second row by the window, with an empty seat next to him.

The older students in the front row frequently looked him up and down with friendly yet curious eyes, showing no sign of anything amiss just because he was only a first-year student.

In fact, Regulus was already well-known.

"Today's content is not in the syllabus." Professor Flitwick's voice was lower than usual, not as sharp as in class, and his eyes shone.

"The emotional resonance of a spell, or rather, how the caster's mental state affects the magical effect."

"The same levitation charm," Flitwick said, raising his wand. "Let's do this for now—"

With a light tap of the wand, the quill pen on the podium floated up, rose steadily, and stopped in mid-air.

The pen swayed slightly, like a dandelion seed floating in a breeze.

The ascent is slow and gentle, with even a slight pause at the peak.

"When I cast the spell, I think of lightness and joy, like seeing a butterfly for the first time in spring."

Professor Flitwick said, "Now—"

He waved his wand, and the quill fell back onto the table. A moment later, he cast the spell again.

This time, the quill pen shot up with a "whoosh," twice as fast as before, and stopped motionless about 30 centimeters from the table with its tip pointing downwards.

The pen didn't wobble at all, and the ink cartridge cast a long, thin shadow in the sunlight.

"This time, I'm thinking about responsibility," Professor Flitwick said, looking at the quill pen. "It must float, it must be stable, it must be accurate."

Regulus stared at the pen.

He could sense the difference; the intensity of the magic was the same, but the texture was different.

The first incantation flowed with gentle and calm magic, while the second was tense and focused.

Both states achieved floating, but in different ways.

"The spell is fixed," Professor Flitwick continued.

"Gestures, pronunciation, magic—these are all written in the textbook."

But wizards are not magical artifacts; we have emotions, states of mind, and thoughts at any given moment.

These extra elements seep into the magic and affect the spells.

A seventh-year Ravenclaw student raised their hand: "Professor, is there a standard for this kind of influence? I mean, can it be quantified?"

"It's difficult." Flitwick shook his head: "Everyone's emotions are different, and the same person's emotions are different at different times, but what is certain is that mental state affects the quality of a spell."

Regulus looked at the pen, an idea popped into his head, and he raised his hand.

"Mr. Blake."

"Professor," Regulus asked politely, "the syllables and gestures of a spell are fixed, but the wizard's mental state during the casting of the spell will change the magical effect."

Is this change patterned? Can it be intentionally controlled and reproduced?

Professor Flitwick looked at him intently: "You mean, to manipulate the effects of spells by controlling one's own state?"

"Yes, Professor." Regulus nodded.

"The same levitation spell, when cast with different states of mind, will have perceptible differences in the trajectory of the magic and the final effect."

Does this difference stem from the wizard's inner state regarding magic itself—?

Regulus paused, a word coming to mind: "Immersion?"

If so, what is the mechanism of this immersion? Is it possible to train a specific mental state to become a reliably invoked spellcasting condition?

The classroom fell silent, and Professor Flitwick took a deep breath.

"You've touched upon a high-level spell." His voice became serious.

"The spell itself determines what can be done, and the wizard's mind determines how it is done. Professor Dumbledore studied this field in depth when he was young, and he called it the resonance between mental imagery and magic."