Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Following the updates on Cola Novels has never been so enjoyable.

On Wednesday afternoon, Regulus was reading in the Slytherin common room.

The fireplace burned brightly, and the silver-green decorations gleamed coldly in the firelight.

Several second-graders were playing Wizards Chess in a corner, the sound of their pieces clashing against each other making a crackling noise.

Several seventh graders sat on the sofa, discussing their exams in hushed tones.

Regulus sat in an armchair by the window, with "The Principles of Advanced Transfiguration" in his hand.

He noticed someone at the door, looked up, and saw Severus Snape standing there, a solidified shadow.

Snape didn't come in; he just stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on Regulus.

Regulus and Snape looked at each other. Snape nodded slightly, so slightly that it was almost imperceptible. Then he turned and walked out of the common room.

Regulus closed the book, got up, and followed him out.

The corridor was empty. Snape waited in the shadows around the corner, his back against the stone wall, his fingers unconsciously stroking the handle of his wand.

"Black," Snape's voice was deep.

"Snape," Regulus's voice deepened.

After a brief greeting, Snape emerged from the shadows, his eyes scanning both ends of the corridor to make sure no one was there before speaking: "The atmosphere over there with the upperclassmen... is off."

Regulus waited for him to continue.

"There have been some gatherings in recent weeks," Snape said cautiously, his eyes scanning the ends of the corridor once more.

"It wasn't public; it was in a small classroom or an empty room on the eighth floor. I'm mixed race, so I wasn't originally qualified to participate, but someone vouched for me."

He paused, as if weighing how much to say.

"Professor Slughorn mentioned my potion-making talent. Several seventh-year students knew about it. They needed someone to process certain materials and asked me for help. In exchange, they allowed me to audit their classes."

Regulus nodded; this explanation made sense.

Snape's value lies in his talent; even the most arrogant purebloods will exploit those who are valuable.

"They're discussing," Snape said in an even lower voice, "cleaning up the trash."

"Trash," Regulus muttered the word, knowing without being asked what it meant.

Mudbloods, Muggle-born, those who have corrupted the magical bloodline.

"The specific plan?" Regulus asked briefly.

"Not yet." Snape shook his head.

"It's more about the atmosphere, a kind of... impulse that we want to do big things. The language is becoming more and more radical, the attitude is becoming more and more fervent. Some people mentioned family support, and some mentioned the will of higher authorities."

Even higher up, Voldemort?

"They're planning to make a move at Hogwarts?" Regulus asked calmly.

"Possibly." Snape nodded, then added uncertainly, "It could also just be preparation, cultivating attitudes, unifying thoughts, so that when they actually join after graduation, they'll already be qualified soldiers."

Regulus remained silent; he could picture the scene.

A group of pure-blooded teenagers, aged sixteen or seventeen, are immersed in family honor and the theory of bloodline superiority. Incited by Voldemort's ideology, they firmly believe that they are undertaking a great cause.

Remove impurities and purify the magical world.

This fanaticism is contagious, forming a closed echo chamber where only one voice speaks: we are right, we are righteous, and those who oppose us are evil.

Regulus believed that when an individual integrates into a group, their sense of responsibility and morality will be diluted, and what will replace them is the collective will of the group.

When the collective will becomes extreme, individuals will do things they would never normally do, not because they have become bad, but because they feel they are no longer "individuals".

They are part of a great cause, which is essentially hatred and violence.

"Why are you telling me this?" Regulus asked Snape.

Snape pursed his lips, and after a few seconds said, "Evans."

Lily Evans, Muggle-born, Gryffindor.

Could she be the target?

Not necessarily.

But if this atmosphere continues, one day all Muggle-born people will be seen as enemies, and the conflict will escalate from words to actions, from covert exclusion to open attacks.

Snape didn't care about other Muggle-borns; being among them would make him fanatical.

But he cares about Lily.

Moreover, he knew that he couldn't protect her on his own; he needed allies, people with more power and status to intervene.

Regulus Black fits the bill perfectly.

The Black heir, one of the Twenty-Eight Purebloods, possesses exceptional strength and influence within Slytherin.

Moreover, the last Christmas gift proved that Regulus abided by the rules of the transaction and gave an equivalent return.

"The recipe from last time was very useful." Snape stared intently into Regulus's eyes, as if explaining, "And that dark magic helped me understand some things."

He was trying to curry favor, hoping to exchange intelligence for more knowledge and resources.

Regulus could see Snape's nervousness. He nodded. "I'll keep an eye on it. If there's any further news, please let me know. As for the payment, you know the standard."

Snape's eyes lit up for a moment, then returned to their somber state: "Understood."

He hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Evans?"

Regulus simply looked at him calmly, his eyes devoid of emotion.

Snape waited for a while, and just as he was about to turn away, thinking he would not get a response, he...

Regulus nodded very slightly, just enough to see the extent of the swaying.

Snape's eyes at that moment held a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. He made no comment and left without saying a word.

Regulus stood still, pondering the information he had just received.

What's brewing within Slytherin isn't necessarily concrete action, but more likely, mental preparation.

Voldemort needed more than just henchmen; he needed warriors with unwavering loyalty and conviction.

Hogwarts is a petri dish, Slytherin is an experimental field.

By having pure-blooded descendants absorb the ideology and integrate into the atmosphere at school, they will be fully prepared to become Death Eater trainees by the time they graduate.

This kind of ideological infiltration is more dangerous than direct violence, which would provoke resistance, expose the problem, and invite intervention from Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic.

But ideological infiltration is slow and covert, like boiling a frog in lukewarm water.

By the time it was discovered, an entire generation of pure-blood wizards had already accepted that logic.

Regulus walked back to the lounge.

He doesn't plan to get involved for the time being; it's none of his business.

He'd let those pure-blood fanatics do whatever they wanted, as long as it didn't affect him.

But he would observe; intelligence is valuable. Knowing what the enemy is doing and thinking is better than knowing nothing at all.

Regulus sat in an armchair with a book open on his lap, but his gaze was not on the words.

He had his own reasons for standing up to stop the conflict during the previous Quidditch match.

It was a demonstration, showing certain traits to those who might observe him—Dumbledore, Voldemort, and other pure-blood families.

Calm, able to control the situation, and able to maintain order in a conflict.

This is different from a mere display of strength; it demonstrates leadership potential and the ability to stabilize the rear.

Voldemort needed henchmen, but he also needed someone to manage them.

If the Black family only produces a few warriors to charge into battle, their value is limited.

However, if someone can emerge who can unify forces and maintain internal order, their value is far greater.

That intervention was a calculated performance, but the situation Snape is talking about now is different.

The fervor of the upperclassmen was not just a temporary conflict, but more like a long-term ideological infiltration.

They may not take action for the time being, but that atmosphere will continue to spread and affect more people.

This influence is subtle and gradual; today it may be verbal exclusion, tomorrow it may be covert sabotage, and the day after tomorrow it may be open attacks.

Regulus analyzes motivation.

It could be spontaneous; a group of sixteen or seventeen-year-olds, brainwashed by the theory of bloodline, felt that they had a mission to purify the magical world. This kind of self-pity could easily lead to extreme behavior.

More likely, it was influenced by their family, with the family pushing them to practice their beliefs at school, preparing them to actually join the Death Eaters in the future.

As for Voldemort giving the order directly, that's unlikely at this stage.

Voldemort probably didn't care about these students' petty squabbles; he was more concerned with recruiting adult wizards and external operations.

However, the formation of this atmosphere is likely driven by his ideology, which he passed on to the next generation through the Death Eater families he had already joined.

Regulus decided to observe first.

This is not his responsibility. He is not a champion of justice and has no obligation to protect all Muggle-born individuals, as long as the conflict does not affect him.

As for Lily Evans...

Regulus shook his head slightly. "The greatest hurt Lily suffered at Hogwarts was hearing you call her a Mudblood, Snape."

......

The Room of Requirement, the Training Room.

Regulus stood in the center of the room, holding a silver coin in his palm.

Spatial warp.

Perception spreads, and the spatial structure appears as a network in consciousness, with west Ke's node clearly defined.

With focused intention, magic extends along the spatial textures and is then guided.

west Ke disappeared and reappeared on the floor three meters away.

Landing point —

Regulus went over to check and found that the deviation from the target position was about forty centimeters, an improvement from fifty centimeters last time.

The surface of the Xike is warm due to the residual friction in space.

There has been progress: the distance has increased, the error has decreased, and although the consumption has not decreased, the control is more precise.

Regulus picked up Sickle and put it back in his pocket.

His family may be rich, but they can't waste money.