Regulus walked to the front row and stood beside Narcissa. A little wizard from the Nott family in the sixth year snorted, "Black kid, there's no place for you here."
Regulus ignored him, but made a mental note of him.
His gaze fell across the corridor, where Frank Longbottom's wand was already raised, its tip beginning to glow—the opening movement for Expelliarmus.
Almost simultaneously, Lucretius Boke also raised his hand.
They were about to fight.
Regulus moved faster, his right hand flicking his wand, sending a wave of invisible magic striking Frank Longbottom's wand.
It wasn't a spell at all, just a pulse of interfering magic. Frank's casting rhythm was broken, and the light at his wand's tip instantly dissipated.
This method wasn't particularly brilliant and any experienced adult wizard could handle it easily, but it was just right for dealing with inexperienced young wizards.
At the same time, Regulus's left hand pressed down on Lucretius Boke's wrist.
Lucretius was about to cast a spell when his wrist was suddenly held down.
He instinctively tried to break free, but that hand was as tight as an iron band.
It wasn't even pure strength; it was something more eerie. He felt the flow of his magic being pinched off at its source, his entire arm instantly going numb, and his wand nearly slipping from his grasp.
He turned his head to look at Regulus in shock.
Regulus didn't look at him, but instead turned his gaze toward Narcissa.
His goal was to prevent the imminent inter-house conflict. Any spell would act as a trigger, so he chose interference and suppression.
Narcissa was just about to pull out her wand when she met Regulus's gaze and saw him give a very slight shake of his head.
Narcissa's wrist paused, and she didn't move again.
The entire process was extremely brief, and the people on both sides of the corridor were stunned.
Everyone had seen Regulus's actions, and then both sides' prefects suddenly froze, leaving everyone at a loss for a moment.
They couldn't understand it at all.
On the Gryffindor side, Frank Longbottom looked at his wand and then at Regulus with a face full of disbelief.
On the Slytherin side, Lucretius was still trying to break free, but the hand didn't budge an inch.
James Potter, unable to see the situation clearly, was still shouting from the crowd, "Despicable tactics! Snakes!"
Sirius joined in from the side, bouncing up and down, "No honor at all!"
"Shut up," Frank Longbottom interrupted them, staring at Regulus. "Who are you?"
"Regulus Black," Regulus released Lucretius's wrist. His posture was reserved, yet he exuded a powerful aura. "First year."
"First year?" Frank frowned, looking at Lucretius and Narcissa behind Regulus.
Two seventh-year prefects were actually letting this first-year take the lead?
He certainly knew Regulus, but what kind of method had this Black used?
Lucretius flexed his wrist, his face looking very grim, though he didn't speak.
Narcissa took half a step forward, standing slightly behind Regulus's side, as if in support or protection.
Regulus looked at Frank. "Prefect Longbottom, Madam Hooch's ruling has already taken effect. If Gryffindor questions the referee, you should follow the formal appeal process instead of causing trouble here."
He then turned his head toward the Slytherin side, though his words were meant for both parties. "As for the fouls during the match, the referee has already given warnings.
Striving for victory within the permitted rules is part of the competition. If you feel the rules are unfair, you should push for a rule change or adapt to them.
Post-match retaliation is truly undignified."
James wanted to say something more, but Frank raised a hand to stop him. The seventh-year prefect stared at Regulus for a few seconds before saying, "You're right. This matter should be taken to the professors."
He put away his wand. Seeing this, the Gryffindor students behind him also put their wands away one after another, though their gazes remained hostile.
Just then, Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn arrived.
The two professors squeezed through the crowd and breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the standoff had been resolved.
McGonagall scanned both sides sternly. "Everyone, back to your common rooms immediately! Prefects, keep your own Houses in check!"
Slughorn, meanwhile, walked up to Regulus, an approving smile on his chubby face. "Handled very well, Mr. Black. Neither Slytherin nor Gryffindor should be making such a scene over a match."
Regulus bowed slightly. "I simply did not wish for the situation to escalate, Professor."
"A wise approach," Slughorn patted his shoulder, then looked at Lucretius and Narcissa. "Take the Slytherins back."
The crowd began to disperse, but Regulus felt a gaze as he turned around.
He looked up toward the staff table. Dumbledore was still sitting there, looking over from a distance, the expression behind his half-moon spectacles unreadable.
Regulus didn't linger, withdrew his gaze, and walked back.
The Slytherin crowd parted automatically. This time, not only the younger students but also the upperclassmen made way.
Some had dissatisfied looks but didn't speak; some frowned in thought; others were simply watching the spectacle.
Avery, Hermes, and Alex followed him. Avery lowered his voice, "Regulus, you just now—"
"We'll talk back there," Regulus interrupted him.
It wasn't until the crowd had dispersed that Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall exchanged a look with unreadable expressions.
Slughorn, full of admiration, watched the figure that had long since disappeared. "Minerva, it was brilliant, wasn't it?"
"Mr. Black's handling of the situation was very efficient, but…" Professor McGonagall's tone held a hint of concern. "…he's only in his first year. It's too early."
She thought of Dumbledore saying that Regulus had no interest in power, but for a wizard, great strength and influence together were power.
And Regulus was rapidly acquiring them.
In other Houses, this might not mean much, but Slytherin was different.
"Minerva, some people are destined to be extraordinary," Slughorn said with a chuckle.
Professor McGonagall had things on her mind and decided to find Dumbledore later to talk about Mr. Black.
"Perhaps."
That night, in the Slytherin common room.
The fireplace was burning brightly, green flames casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. Most students were discussing the day's match in low voices.
They had won, but it wasn't a satisfying victory. Many people had issues with Regulus because they hadn't gotten to have a good brawl with the Gryffindors in the end.
But given Regulus's current momentum and the power he had displayed, no one had come to demand an explanation yet.
Regulus occupied a sofa all to himself, an untitled book resting on his knees.
He was practicing the Constant Shield Charm. He had already passed the beginner stage and possessed considerable defensive capabilities.
Around nine o'clock, Lucretius came over. He sat on the sofa opposite Regulus and remained silent for a few seconds before speaking.
"About today," Lucretius's tone was somewhat low, no longer as noble as when they first met. "That time you held my wrist… how did you do it?"
Regulus leaned back into the sofa and looked up. "It was just a little trick."
"A little trick?" Lucretius raised his right hand and flexed his wrist.
"It's still a bit numb, and the flow of my magic isn't smooth enough.
I thought about it all afternoon and even consulted Professor Slughorn. He said it was a very sophisticated technique—direct magical interference through physical contact.
But you're only a first-year. How did you do it?"
His voice was very low, audible only to the two of them. After speaking, he stared intently at Regulus with a very serious expression.
Regulus met his gaze, his expression calm and without a ripple of emotion.
Lucretius Boke, the eldest son of the Boke family, would one day inherit Borgin and Burkes, that antique shop that dealt with both the light and dark worlds.
In the original story, this family maintained an ambiguous stance during Lord Voldemort's first rise and ultimately emerged unscathed.
Borgin himself was a shrewd and powerful wizard; even Lord Voldemort had worked in his shop and he had remained safe afterward.
Such people could not be overestimated.
But Lucretius was still too naive.
"Everyone has their areas of expertise," Regulus naturally wouldn't tell the truth, giving a somewhat sincere but perfunctory response. "My magic control is quite precise."
"Precise enough to intercept someone else's magic flow?" Lucretius continued to stare at him, full of disbelief. "Even my father doesn't have that ability."
"Perhaps your father just hasn't shown it to you."
Lucretius was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled self-deprecatingly. "Fine, if you don't want to say, I won't ask.
But Black… I owe you one. If you hadn't stopped me today and I had really gotten into a fight with Longbottom, Professor McGonagall would have docked Slytherin at least fifty points."
"A prefect leading a brawl—it might have been more than fifty points."
Regulus went along with the other's words, though he didn't believe for a second that Lucretius actually cared about house points.
For a pure-blood Slytherin prefect of this age, house points were merely a tool to maintain status, nothing more.
"So I owe you one," Lucretius stood up and turned back before leaving.
Regulus shrugged, not particularly caring. Forcing a debt of gratitude was also an effective social tactic.
Regulus watched his back, calculating in his mind. Lucretius's attitude had clearly changed, shifting from condescending to an equal dialogue. This was a good sign.
Demonstrating power yields rewards.
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