Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

On Wednesday after Hogsmeade Week, at two in the morning, Regulus pushed open the bedroom door, the sound of his boots scraping against the carpet unusually soft, as he had just returned from the Room of Requirement.

He took off his robe and draped it over the edge of the bed, and saw that Avery and Alex were not asleep.

Avery leaned against the headboard, his fingertips tapping repeatedly on the bed rail, his brow furrowed.

Alex was curled up in the blanket, his hands gripping the corner tightly, his eyes wide open.

Regulus pulled up a chair and sat down, his gaze sweeping over the two of them: "What's wrong?"

Avery immediately stopped banging, sat up straight, and said with obvious displeasure, "Hermes is in the hospital, in the medical wing. We went to see him this evening, and he's still unconscious."

Mrs. Pomfrey didn't go into details, only saying that she would need to be treated for a few days.

Professor Slughorn also went, and upon seeing Hermes's condition, his face darkened considerably, saying it was from dark magic.

Regulus tapped his knee with his fingertip, but didn't reply.

Avery continued, clenching his fists even tighter, his tone angry: "That guy has long since deserted us, he's been sneaking around at night all day, who knows what he's up to."

He brought this on himself, but he's still one of our roommates. If word gets out that he's been treated like this, people will think we're easy to bully.

Alex peeked out from under the covers, his voice weak and timid, yet firm: "Madame Pomfrey said that kind of black magic is very evil."

Hermes lay there, her face as white as paper. We asked if we could help, and she told us to come back and wait for news.

I think...we need to find out who did it, otherwise we might be next.

Regulus looked at them; Hermes was injured; Avery was fierce and angry; Alex was timid, yet determined.

Avery is from House Cuthbert, and a pure-blood sense of honor is ingrained in his bones. For him, the injury of a member of his dormitory is equivalent to an invasion of his territory. Anger is his instinctive reaction, and he cares more about the face and dignity of Slytherin.

Alex, on the other hand, was from a weaker branch of the Rozier family. They were always cautious and fearful of conflict by nature. Their desire to find a killer stemmed from their fear of being threatened themselves; self-preservation outweighed their anger.

Regulus knew that Alex had never liked Hermes; after all, no one liked gloomy boys.

Thinking about Hermes again, the clues had already connected.

The Murseb family was known for its study of dark magic, and Hermes was particularly obsessed with it from the moment he enrolled.

This semester, he suddenly left the group and frequently went out at night. He may have received orders from the family, or the mission may have reached a critical point.

Of course, it's also possible that he simply doesn't respect her, but now that Hermes has been harmed by dark magic, whether he respects her or not is another matter.

Slytherin is a complex organization, with many small groups of extremely pure-blooded students who specialize in dark magic, exclude those who disagree with them, and are ruthless in their struggle for resources.

Hermes either touched upon the interests of a certain group while exploring the castle's hidden secrets.

It could be that a family mission triggered a trap set by someone else, or even that a black magic experiment went out of control, resulting in injury.

If Hermes was framed, then the person who did it was to remove him from the picture and monopolize a discovery.

He looked up at Avery, his tone calm and his logic clear: "Anger is useless. Hermes is currently unconscious, and it's still unclear whether he lost control while practicing dark magic or was attacked."

Professor Slughorn's grim expression indicated that the dark magic that injured him was not simple and would not be easily controlled by an ordinary novice wizard.

He then looked at Alex and added, "We need evidence to find the killer. Speculation without evidence will only expose our movements prematurely, allowing the person behind it to hide their tracks."

Avery frowned: "So we're just going to wait like this?"

"Go to the medical wing tomorrow morning." Regulus's tone remained unchanged: "Hermes' symptoms and Madam Pomfrey's diagnosis will reveal more information."

The most important thing now is to stay calm and avoid discussing it in the common room to prevent the news from spreading and causing unnecessary trouble.

There are quite a few people in Slytherin keeping an eye on our dorm; don't give them a chance.

Avery opened his mouth as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

He knew Regulus's judgment was correct; acting blindly would only cause more trouble.

Alex also breathed a sigh of relief, relaxed his shoulders, and gave a soft "hmm".

Regulus lay back down on the bed. He could hear Avery tossing and turning and feel Alex's unsteady breathing. Neither of them could sleep, and both were holding their breath.

He knew in his heart that this matter would not be over so easily.

Go to the medical wing tomorrow morning to check on Hermes' condition and determine the nature of the injury. If it was indeed caused by someone, then decide whether and how to intervene.

Shadows swam past the window, like some giant fish surveying its territory. Green light broke and reformed in the water, drawing flowing patterns on the stone wall.

Avery finally stopped moving, his breathing became shallow, and a faint snoring could be heard from Alex's side.

Regulus closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the depths.

The model of Orion's four and a half stars lit up deep within my consciousness, while the position of Betelgeuse was a stable halo, not yet fully lit, but already able to provide structural support for the system.

The model of Orion's four and a half stars lit up deep within my consciousness, while the position of Betelgeuse was a stable halo, not yet fully lit, but already able to provide structural support for the system.

Magic cycles with the rhythm of the stars, tempering the body and strengthening the spirit.

The black lake outside the window returned to calm, the green light stabilized, and only three breaths remained in the dormitory: two were deep in sleep, and one was awake and rhythmic.

Regulus maintained a meditative state for two hours, then allowed his consciousness to surface and went to sleep.

......

When Regulus woke up, the room was still the dark green of the bottom of the Black Lake.

Avery was already up, sitting on the edge of the bed putting on his robe, moving faster than usual.

Alex was still in bed, but his eyes were open, staring at the water ripples on the ceiling.

"What time is it?" Regulus sat up.

"Six-thirty," Avery's voice was a little hoarse, "the medical wing opens for visiting at seven."

Regulus said nothing, got up and dressed.

The fabric of the robe rustled softly, and the silver buttons clicked as they were fastened.

He adjusted his cuffs and tucked the wand into his inner pocket, his movements slow and deliberate.

Alex slowly got up, fumbling with the buttons for a few moments before finally fastening them.

When the three finished washing up, the common room was already quite full.

The magical flames in the fireplace had just been lit, casting dancing orange-red shadows on the carpet.

Several armchairs were scattered haphazardly, and there were empty teacups and scraps of parchment left over from last night on the coffee table.

Avery walked to the door, then stopped, turning to look at Regulus: "Are we just going like this?"

"Otherwise what?" Regulus asked. "Do you need a reason to visit your roommate?"

Alex whispered, "Mrs. Pomfrey said last night not to disturb us..."

"We'll only be here for a few minutes," Regulus said, pushing open the lounge door. "We'll leave after we get the information."

The medical wing was on the first floor, the door was closed, and the wooden door panel was carved with reliefs of healing wands and medicine bottles.

Avery reached out to push him away, but Regulus grabbed his wrist: "I'll do it."

He knocked on the door three times, with a steady rhythm.

Footsteps came from inside, the door opened, and Mrs. Pomfrey stood in the doorway, wearing a therapist's white coat over her morning robe, her hair neatly combed, and her face showing signs of staying up all night.

"Mr. Black." She frowned when she saw Regulus. "And Mr. Cuthbert, Mr. Rozier, it's too early, the patient needs rest."

“We’re only staying for a few minutes,” Regulus said, keeping his voice polite. “Hermes Murceber is our roommate, and we want to know how he is doing.”

Mrs. Pomfrey sized them up, her gaze sweeping over the three faces. She paused for a few seconds, then stepped aside. "Five minutes. Keep quiet and don't touch the patient."

They went inside.

The medical wing was filled with the mixed smells of disinfectant and various magical potions. The curtains were drawn, and only a few magical lamps were lit, casting a soft glow.

Six hospital beds were arranged in two rows, with only the innermost one occupied. Hermes lay in the middle of the white sheets and blankets.

Regulus approached quietly, for Hermes was in worse condition than he had anticipated.

His face was grayish-white, his skin clung tightly to his cheekbones, his eye sockets were sunken, and his lips were dry, cracked, and peeling.

Her hair had lost its luster and lay scattered on the pillow like withered straw.

His eyes were closed, but his eyeballs were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids, as if he were having a nightmare.

The blanket covered his chest, and there were dark spots on his exposed neck and collarbone, like some kind of decay.

The spots have blurred edges and spread to the surrounding skin.

The arm protruded from under the blanket, covered with dark gray spiderweb-like patterns that meandered along the veins.

It looked as if countless tiny venomous snakes were coiled around his limbs, with tiny ulcers at the intersections of the lines, covered with herbal ointment.

Regulus stopped three steps away from the bed and did not come any closer.

He activated his magical perception; Hermes's magic was weak and disordered.

The core was still functioning, but the edges had collapsed, and the magic had broken into fragments that flowed chaotically within the body.

Then there is the foreign magic emanating from Hermes.