SO?

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The last Wednesday of November, breakfast time.

A cold wind was blowing across the Scottish Highlands. Blocked out by the Castle, the dome of the Great Hall reflected the gloomy sky outside, thick with clouds, occasionally letting in a sliver of sunlight before it disappeared again.

The Great Hall was warm and cozy, with long tables laden with food: bacon, baked eggs, toast, and hot oatmeal. Steam rose from the table, carrying the aroma of Butter and jam.

The young Wizards chattered away; some Gryffindor were fighting over bacon across the table, Hufflepuff were discussing Quidditch over the weekend, and Ravenclaw were whispering amongst themselves.

Flocks of owls flew in through the high window, their wings flapping rapidly, and letters and packages rained down like raindrops.

A greyish-brown Eagle Owl landed in front of Regulus.

Its paws gripped a folded piece of parchment, unsigned, unsealed with a tribal emblem, just a single sheet of paper, folded twice.

The Eagle Owl stretched out its claw and offered it to his hand.

Regulus took it and unfolded it.

Regulus:

Do you remember what I said to you during the holiday?

Didn't you hear me!

This is the second time; there won't be a third!

Bellatrix Lestrange

The handwriting was forceful, with the strokes pressed downwards, almost tearing the paper at the turns.

The last few words were written hastily, as if the writer could no longer contain his emotions and forced the pen to finish, leaving an indentation on the parchment.

Regulus placed the letter on the table and stared at it expressionlessly for a while.

He remembered receiving Bellatrix's letter when he was in first grade.

At that time, he had just entered Hogwarts, his Magic journey had not yet begun, and what he had was quite meager.

Aside from the Magic Power circulation and Magic Manipulation I figured out on my own in my childhood, plus a few basic spells, there wasn't much else.

He certainly believed in his talent, and there was never any doubt about that.

Those basic Magic that you can access are easy to learn; once you learn them, you'll master them—they're not difficult at all.

But at that time, he really didn't have anything worth mentioning.

There was no Star Orbit Meditation, no Patronus, no Severing Charm, no Fiendfyre, no Space Magic, and no Light Magic.

All I can say is that they are weak.

He remembers the feeling when he received that letter: irritation, and a bit of a cold, oppressive feeling.

But it wasn't because of Bellatrix; Bellatrix herself never put any pressure on him.

Bellatrix was powerful, possessing the Black family's talent and expertise in Dark Arts; she had probably already received instruction from Voldemort at that time.

But in Regulus's eyes, it was nothing special. He thought at the time that as long as he survived for a few years, killing Bellatrix would be no problem at all.

Moreover, that was an idea from a year ago, and looking back now, it was still conservative.

But that letter carried not only Bellatrix's gaze, but also Voldemort's attention, and that attention itself carried weight.

Bellatrix was Voldemort's mouthpiece; her letters were like threads passed from the other side. Accepting them meant moving forward, while refusing them was a matter of attitude.

Then, in the past year or so, Regulus has improved too quickly.

The Patronus, Starry Sky Kite, could carry him through space, directly breaking through the multiple defenses of Black Ancestral Home, a fact that even Orion found astonishing.

The Severing Charm began with studying the Magic Power structure of the Mandrake, and after nine days and nights of deduction, a complete model was finally constructed in the mind.

The first form delivers a precise kill; the second form unleashes a ranged attack using infrasound.

This is a spell he derived from scratch; something that didn't exist before, he created.

Fiendfyre, who initially needed emotional anchoring to be summoned, is now tamed to the point that he is willing to obey him.

Their shape and temperature are controllable; they have even created Flying Device that approach the speed of sound.

Space Magic has evolved from the initial Spatial Warp, to Spatial Anchor Charm, to Spell Warp, and now to Spatial Network and Spatial Transfiguration.

Natural Magic found its way in the Greenhouse of Cornwall.

The Light Magic is still under development, but the underlying logic has been proven to be feasible.

His foundation, the Star Orbit Meditation, the Bellatrix are lit, the Saiph are dimly lit, and his soul can already see it.

Those ideas, one by one, become real power, held in our hands.

The path of Magic has been confirmed, and he himself doesn't know how far he can go if he continues down it.

These things piled up together are no longer on the same level as the young wizard who had just entered Hogwarts a year ago.

But Bellatrix didn't know any of that; she only knew about his behavior at school, what happened in the classroom, in the Corridor, and in the Common Room.

She may have also factored in the power of the Dark Enlightenment, believing that the gift had worked on him.

But that probably didn't matter to her; after all, in her eyes, a little wizard was still a little wizard, no matter what.

She's only twelve years old.

In fact, Regulus thought about it and realized that there was probably no one who knew all about him.

Dumbledore knew some of it: Space Magic, Natural Magic, Fiendfyre, Patronus, and the ability to see souls.

But he probably didn't know about the Severing Charm or Light Magic; Regulus had never used those things at Hogwarts.

Orion knew the other part, but those advancements after Bellatrix —soul manifestation, Light Magic, Spatial Network—

None of these fathers knew.

No one knows his full strength. This person knows part of it, that the Dark Lord knows part of it, but even if they met together to compare their accounts, they still couldn't get the whole picture.

Regulus thought of this, another figure suddenly popped into his mind: Grindelwald.

That old man, through planning and foresight, sent him into the Abyssal Slumber, allowing him to participate in the entire process of Bellatrix. Freya was his person, and that Maritime Document was left behind by him.

He orchestrated the entire affair from beginning to end, and he probably knows just how far he's gone.

Regulus's lips twitched slightly as he banished the image from his mind.

Why think about him? It's bad luck.

He lowered his head and looked at the letter on the table.

Bellatrix's letter came at just the right time, even more so than he had expected. If Bellatrix couldn't see what he was doing, he would have to find a way to make her see it. Now that she had come to him of her own accord, it saved him a lot of trouble.

He stretched out his finger, intending to burn the parchment, then thought for a moment, looked up, and saw the grayish-brown Eagle Owl just flapping its wings and flying up from the edge of the table, not yet flying past the high window.

With a thought, his Magic Power reached out and pulled the bird back.

The Eagle Owl somersaulted in the air, its wings flapping wildly, losing a few feathers. It was pulled back, letting out a panicked cry and flailing its claws in the air.

It staggered when it landed, its paws gripping the tablecloth, its eyes filled with obvious panic. It trembled twice, and three or four more feathers fell onto the table.

Regulus ignored it and reached for the fries on the plate in front of him.

When the finger touched it, the French fry Transfiguration, stretched, narrowed, and tapered to a point, becoming a quill pen.

He gripped the pen and dipped it into the ketchup on his plate. The moment the pen touched the ground, the ketchup changed Transfiguration, its color shifting from dark red to deep black, its consistency from thick to thin, eventually pooling into a small puddle of ink at the bottom of the plate.

Next to it was the same unchanging ketchup, red and black side by side with a clear boundary.

People around looked over, and several older students exchanged glances at the Slytherin table.

Regulus unfolded the paper and wrote his reply directly over Bellatrix's handwriting—just one word.

"O?"

The handwriting is flamboyant; the characters are written very large, and the strokes end with an upward flick, giving them a sharp edge.

He folded the letter and handed it to the Eagle Owl: "Go back to where you came from."

As he finished speaking, a wisp of Natural Magic Power seeped from his fingertips and gently adhered to the owl's feathers.

The Eagle Owl quieted down, stopped flapping its wings, and the panic in its eyes subsided somewhat, but a hint of grievance remained.

It lowered its head, pecked Regulus's hand hard, then grabbed the letter, spread its wings, and flew away.

Avery sat close by and glanced at the contents of the letter.

Regulus wasn't carrying anyone, so he just glanced at it and saw those lines of text, including the "O?".

He didn't make a sound, but looked over and asked what was wrong. Regulus shook his head slightly.

Avery shrugged, lowered his head, and continued eating. If Regulus didn't say anything, he wouldn't ask.

Regulus continued eating; everything was going according to plan.

But we need to pay more attention to Costa and Vance, and be clearer about our stance.

It's easy to say about Hogwarts; he explicitly protects those he deems safe, so no one dares to touch them.

There might be some scheming and underhanded tactics, but as long as he pays more attention, there won't be any problems.

The key is outside of school; he doesn't doubt Bellatrix's madness, just as he doesn't overestimate her strength.

He wanted those two to have a foothold in Slytherin, and even a place to go after graduation, so he couldn't make them targets.

During the holidays, I'll draw a line with Bellatrix; no one can touch the people under her protection.

This sound can be amplified by Bellatrix, thus serving as a way of making one's voice heard.

She can be used to showcase one's talents, to draw lines and make a statement, and to convey influence.

All I can say is that Bellatrix is incredibly resourceful.

As for making Costa and Vance suffer a little loss, Regulus didn't think it was a big deal.

He even endured the Cruciatus Curse.

By taking a loss or getting hurt, you gain clear protection, or even further benefits, in return—opportunities that others don't even have.

He provides them with protection, and they do things for him. He takes risks, and they take risks too; no one owes anyone anything.

We're just waiting for things to come to Rababstan; it would be best if we could get everything together and resolve it all at once.

But Regulus didn't rush Alex and the others, letting them find their own pace and get the job done steadily.

Classes proceeded normally during the day, and after the Defense Against the Dark Arts Class in the afternoon, the people dispersed from the Corridor.

Regulus told Avery and the others to go back first, then he walked in another direction, upstairs, towards Professor McGonagall's office.

My Spatial Transfiguration skills have improved. I've been practicing for almost three months since the start of the semester, and I've gone from holding the position for a few seconds to almost a minute. The structure is also clearer than before.

It's no longer that blurry, distorted mess; now you can see clear shapes—squares are squares, circles are circles. Although the edges aren't perfectly regular, at least you can recognize them.

He knocked on the door.

"Come in."

McGonagall's voice came from inside, and Regulus pushed the door open and went in.

Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk, with another person sitting opposite her.

Sirius.