Can We Switch Dorms?

Farther away, several Slytherins who had originally been practicing saw what was happening and immediately gathered around—three of them, five of them, more and more.

Alphard's expression changed. His two friends, Colin and Gareth, also exchanged a tense glance.

Just then, Regulus, with his back to all the Slytherin students, slowly raised his left hand.

His palm went upright, his five fingers pressed together in an unmistakable gesture to stop.

Avery froze for a moment. His raised wand lowered, but he did not put it away.

Hermes narrowed his eyes, staring hard at Regulus's back. His wand was still raised, though the tip gradually shifted aside.

Alex let out a breath of relief.

The Slytherins who had been closing in hesitated, their broomsticks hovering in midair as they stopped advancing.

Regulus did not turn around. The corner of his mouth lifted in a faint, hidden smile.

A test of obedience.

These Slytherin students—proud, gloomy, timid, prone to following the crowd—had now stopped according to Regulus's signal.

Getting them to obey as a group was not easy, but as long as one person stopped, the others would naturally follow.

This stemmed from his absolute crushing defeat of the fifth-year Travers on the first night of school; his authority had already begun to take shape.

Seeing this, the Gryffindors who had also gathered across from them stopped moving forward as well, everyone exchanging covert glances.

"What's the matter, Black?" Alphard forced himself to stay calm. "Afraid your helpers will embarrass you?"

"Quite the opposite," Regulus said, sounding puzzled. "I'm afraid they'll act too quickly, and you won't get the chance to display your... courage?"

"Expelliarmus!" Alphard, angered into embarrassment, fired another red light.

This time Regulus did not even recite an incantation. With a light flick of his wand, a faint gleam struck the binding strap at the front of Alphard's broomstick.

It was the Repairing Charm, first-year material, used to fix stool legs or patch robes.

Click. The strap suddenly tightened, and the front of the broomstick sank sharply downward.

Because the broomstick abruptly dropped, Alphard's Disarming Charm shot into the ground, blasting a small pit in the sandy soil. He himself cried out and clung to the broom handle, barely avoiding being thrown off.

"The Repairing Charm... on the strap?!" a Gryffindor cried out in shock.

"Brilliant!" the Slytherins praised loudly.

Seeing this, Colin hurriedly moved to support him. "Rictusempra!"

Silver light shot toward Regulus's side.

Regulus did not even look. He pointed his wand down to the left. "Aguamenti."

Water sprayed toward the ground beneath Colin's broomstick, splashing everywhere and turning the earth muddy.

The old Cleansweep still had a wheel frame. The wheels of Colin's broomstick sank into the mud, and the whole broomstick jolted to a halt. His spell also went wide.

Gareth tried to ambush him from the other side. "Stupefy!"

This time, Regulus finally glanced at him—but only once.

He tapped his wand toward the ground by Gareth's feet. "Incendio."

A small cluster of flames ignited on the dry grass.

Gareth's broomstick had a woven wicker base, and it feared fire most. Frightened, he hurriedly pulled higher, and his spell went crooked again.

Three directions, three attacks. Regulus had used three of the most basic spells, all aimed at the environment and the broomsticks, and made his opponents lose balance and miss their spells entirely.

Once was coincidence, twice was luck, but three times was an overwhelming difference in skill.

Alphard's face was deathly pale. He had only just managed to steady his broomstick when Regulus's voice already reached him. "Do you still want to continue? Or are you going to show something else?"

The surrounding Slytherin students were already staring in a daze.

"He didn't attack a person even once..." a Slytherin girl said softly.

"He only hit the broomsticks and the ground," another boy murmured. "But that's even more humiliating than hitting them directly."

"The key is, everything he used came from the first thirty pages of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1!"

"I refuse to believe he doesn't know anything else."

Avery stared at Regulus's back, his gaze complicated. He knew every one of those spells too, but he could not produce that kind of effect with them.

Hermes silently put away his wand and thoughtfully looked at the places that had been struck with precision. Every choice had maximized the effect while minimizing the cost.

"What are you doing?!" Madam Hooch's furious roar finally came.

She rushed into the field like a whirlwind, her face livid as she swept her gaze across everyone present. "Put down your wands! Immediately!"

Alphard and the other two hurriedly put away their wands and jumped down from their broomsticks, their faces covered in sweat.

"Pruitt! Macmillan! Diggory!" Madam Hooch said sharply. "Using spells without permission in Flying Class! Against classmates! Thirty points from Gryffindor! One week of detention each!"

"But Professor!" Alphard said urgently. "He used—"

"What did Black use?" Madam Hooch's sharp gaze turned to Regulus.

"Repairing Charm, Professor." Regulus looked straight at her, his gaze open and calm. "To reinforce the straps. Aguamenti, to reduce the dust on the ground. Fire-Making Spell, to keep the ground from being slippery."

Madam Hooch stared at Regulus for a few seconds, then looked at the marks on the ground. The straps had indeed tightened, there was indeed water on the ground, and the grass did indeed bear scorch marks.

"Pruitt," she said coldly, "are you accusing Black of attacking you with the Repairing Charm?"

A few muffled snickers sounded around them.

Alphard opened his mouth, but not a single word came out.

"Gryffindor loses another ten points for falsely accusing a classmate." Madam Hooch showed no mercy. "Now, everyone back to the Castle!"

When the Slytherin students put away their broomsticks and left, almost every one of them glanced at Regulus as they passed.

There was surprise in those looks, awe, approval. Slytherin respected power, and respected the wisdom to use power even more.

That night, in the Slytherin common room.

The emerald flames in the fireplace burned quietly, illuminating the dark green bed curtains and silver decorations. The first-year new students gathered around the sofas, and the topic was naturally what had happened that afternoon.

"Why didn't you let us act?" one boy could not help asking Regulus. "There were more of us. We could totally have—"

"Could have what?" Regulus cut him off, raising his head to look at everyone. "Given Gryffindor a reason to appeal?"

"All of you gathering together to attack Gryffindor?"

He put down his quill, his voice not loud. "Slytherin has lost the House Cup three years in a row. Every ten points could decide the final result. Was it worth losing the House several dozen points?"

Several students fell silent.

House points were super effective against Slytherins. The younger they were, the more they cared about them.

"And," Regulus continued, "if you had acted, it would have been a brawl. When Madam Hooch arrived, what she saw would have been Slytherins surrounding and attacking three Gryffindors. But now—"

"What she saw was three Gryffindors surrounding and attacking one Slytherin, while that Slytherin didn't even fight back. He was only repairing a broomstick, cleaning the ground, and drying the grass."

Someone laughed softly.

Regulus looked around and noticed some upper-year students were also watching them, so he raised his voice a little.

"And the result?" He stood, facing the entire common room. "Gryffindor lost forty points, Slytherin didn't lose a single one, and Pruitt and the other two have detention until next week."

He lifted his chin slightly, his voice taking on a faintly stirring note. "And we won respect.

Madam Hooch saw Slytherin's restraint and discipline. The other Houses saw that provoking Slytherin comes at a price."

Prefect Lucretius Black came over then. He looked at all the lower-year students. "Impulse, gang fights, losing points—that is Gryffindor's way.

What Slytherin wants is victory, profit, and Glory. Today, Black demonstrated how to strike an opponent as hard as possible within the Rules while minimizing our own losses."

He turned to Regulus and said formally, "You won respect for the House and avoided a disastrous loss of points. Well done, Black."

Several upper-year students nodded in agreement, while the lower years looked at Regulus with a mixture of admiration and envy.

He had only just entered school, yet he had already gained the public approval of the Prefect and the upper years.

Regulus gave a slight nod. "I only made the choice that benefited the House most."

Back in the dormitory, Avery was writing an essay when he suddenly stopped his pen and asked Regulus, "You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

Regulus cast him an interested look. "Did what on purpose?"

Avery was different from some pure-blood idiots. He knew how to think.

Hermes also looked up from his book and watched Regulus with him. He, too, had sensed that something had been off during the day.

Without waiting for Avery to answer, Regulus asked Hermes in a declarative tone, "You wanted to cast a spell on me?"

Hermes's gaze tightened slightly. He had indeed had that thought at the time, but only for an instant.

He noticed even that? Is he bluffing?

He said nothing.

Avery narrowed his eyes and looked back and forth between Regulus and Hermes.

Alex held his breath, not daring to draw attention.

Can I change dormitories?

This place is terrifying!