Poor Potter

Thursday afternoon, after History of Magic.

Regulus walked alone down a secluded Corridor leading to the Library, books tucked in his arms.

Professor Binns's hypnotic voice still lingered in his mind as he considered the records concerning the combination of seventeenth-century goblin metalworking and magical Runes.

Suddenly, three figures emerged from the corner ahead, blocking his path.

James Potter stood in the middle, wearing that prankish fake smile.

Remus Lupin stood slightly behind him, his brow faintly furrowed, while Peter Pettigrew cowered at the back, his eyes darting about.

"Well, well, look who it is. Slytherin's little Chief." James deliberately drew out his words. "All alone? Where are the Chief's lackeys?"

Regulus stopped and calmly swept his gaze over the three of them, lingering on Lupin for a moment longer.

The Brown-Haired Boy had a faint frown on his face, and there was an almost imperceptible stiffness to his posture. He was neither as aggressive as James nor as timid as Peter Pettigrew. He looked more like a helpless bystander.

Or rather, more like a container desperately suppressing something.

Regulus quietly brushed his Magic Perception over Lupin and could clearly sense within him a kind of magical trait that was forcibly restrained yet instinctively restless—inhuman, primal, carrying the bloody chill of moonlight.

It lurked and lay dormant, utterly at odds with Lupin's gentle nature.

A Werewolf.

An absurd thought could not help flashing through Regulus's mind. Why couldn't it be a pig-man, dog-man, or sheep-man instead?

Perhaps on the Full Moon, he could simply transform and root around in the dirt of the Forbidden Forest, chase his tail, or quietly graze. That sounded rather amusing.

The thought vanished as quickly as it came. He knew Lupin's secret, but he thought that a Werewolf was nothing special, not worth much attention.

He had no intention of exposing it. Let them keep playing their little game called friendship.

Sirius was not among them. Regulus understood at once, finding it somewhat amusing and somewhat irritating.

It was like running into a few brats playing with mud in the middle of the road while you were trying to get somewhere, and having them try to throw stones at you.

"Potter," Regulus said, his voice devoid of emotion, "if your intelligence is as barren as your Magic, I suggest you go straight to the Hospital Wing instead of wasting what little brainpower you have on this stale provocation."

James's face flushed red at once. "You—!"

"Me what?" Regulus cut him off, his tone carrying a trace of almost pitying mockery. "Do you think this is some kind of game for brave little boys?

Picking fights, brawling, proving who's stronger? Is your life really so simple that it consists of nothing but Quidditch, pranks, and childish stunts like this?"

He looked at James as if, through the furious boy before him, he could see the man who would one day fight Voldemort and the Death Eaters in the same blunt and straightforward way.

The courage was admirable, but the approach was far too crude and idealistic—mindless, even reckless.

As though the whole world could be governed by the single rule that good people ought to beat bad people.

This optimism, raised in love and sunlight and never tempered by true cruelty, could sometimes be so naive it was almost appalling.

James flew into a rage and yanked out his wand. "Rictusempra! Leglocker Curse!"

The two spells shot toward him simultaneously, one high and one low. They had clearly practiced the combination, and they were much faster than the spells of ordinary lower-year little wizards.

Yet in Regulus's eyes, they were still painfully slow.

He did not even move his feet. He simply drew a casual half-circle through the air with his wand.

"Protego." A solid silver barrier instantly unfolded before him.

James's two spells struck the barrier and burst into twin showers of light, while the shield did not so much as tremble.

"What?!" James froze.

In the instant he hesitated, Regulus pointed his wand forward. "Expelliarmus."

James reacted quickly. True to his reputation for athleticism, he immediately tried to roll away.

But it was useless. Every intention of his was laid bare before Regulus.

A thick, concentrated bolt of red light struck him in the chest like lightning.

"Ah!" James cried out in pain as he was blasted backward. His wand flew from his hand, and Regulus lightly suspended it in midair with a Levitation Charm.

"Petrificus Totalus." The third spell followed almost seamlessly, striking Lupin squarely in the shoulder just as he was about to move.

Lupin's body instantly went rigid, frozen in the pose of taking a step forward. He could not move at all, though shock filled his eyes.

Peter had long since been terrified senseless. Seeing his two companions dealt with in an instant, he screamed, did not even draw his wand, and turned to flee.

"Incarcerous." Without even looking at him, Regulus casually waved his wand. Invisible Magic took shape before Peter and locked him firmly in place, leaving him able only to make frightened whimpers.

The entire process took less than ten seconds. Silence returned to the Corridor, broken only by James clutching his chest and gasping, Lupin standing rigidly still, and Peter struggling soundlessly.

Holding James's wand, Regulus walked over and looked down at his face, twisted by pain and disbelief.

"Is your confidence built on such fragile tricks?" He tossed the wand back into James's arms, his tone like that of someone scolding a disobedient child. "Go back and read more books, Potter.

Or look at what the people around you are doing. Why not learn from those who are better than you?"

Regulus ignored them and prepared to leave. Just then, hurried footsteps sounded from the other end of the Corridor.

After a brief pause, he lifted the spells on Lupin and Peter. Lupin staggered and braced himself against the wall, while Peter collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath.

"James Potter! What have you done now—?!" Lily Evans came running over, panting, her red hair flying and her green eyes filled with anger.

She had heard what was happening and rushed over to stop it.

But when she saw Regulus, unharmed and calm, along with James's disheveled group, their wands fallen to the ground, she stared blankly for a moment.

"Looks like you were late, Miss Evans." Regulus nodded to the stunned Lily. His tone was calm but not cold.

He lowered his gaze again to James Potter. There was no emotion in those gray eyes, only indifference.

"This is the last time, Potter." His voice was not loud. "I do not care about your childish games, nor am I interested in indulging your tedious ego.

This is the second time you have provoked me, and it will be the last. I will not give you a third chance."

James suddenly raised his head, his eyes practically spitting fire. He wanted to argue. He wanted to curse.

But the pain in his chest and the reality of having been utterly crushed in an instant, without the slightest ability to fight back, lodged in his throat like two heavy stones.

He understood Regulus's warning. If he did it again, the consequences would not be as easy as they had been today.

Having said his piece, Regulus no longer looked at him. He turned to the conflicted Lily and said, "Perfect timing. I was just going to the Library to look up some Potions materials. Care to join me?"

Lily looked at James, who was visibly shaken despite his defiant expression and had fallen silent, then at the calm and composed Regulus. After hesitating, she finally nodded.

"All right. I have a Potions Essay to write too."

The two walked side by side toward the Library, leaving James Potter where he stood, watching their retreating backs with a face alternating between blue and white. For the first time, he felt a complete and utter defeat.

Remus Lupin stood against the wall, watching Regulus disappear into the distance. Complex emotions churned within him, including even a trace of guilt.

Twice in a row, they had been the ones to seek trouble with him.

And Regulus Black, though a Slytherin through and through, had never been known for bullying the weak or using underhanded tactics.

By contrast, they—especially James—relied on their numbers and their genuinely superior spellcasting ability to freely prank and bully anyone they disliked, then laugh loudly afterward and mock them.

He stepped forward and pulled the still-dazed James to his feet.

Peter climbed up from the floor on his own, his little eyes still filled with terror. He had clearly been badly frightened by the swift and decisive way they had been dealt with.

James's expression was utterly awful, as though Sirius had died. He gripped his recovered wand so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His mind was filled with everything that had happened in those few seconds: his spells had been effortlessly blocked, his wand had been disarmed, Remus had been petrified, and Peter had been bound.

He had indeed taken Regulus's warning to heart.

But even so, he had to win back his dignity. He had to wash away the humiliation of today.

But that would require... a more thorough plan, greater strength, or waiting for a better opportunity.

At the very least, he could not recklessly confront him head-on like today. The thought made him feel unbearably stifled, and his face darkened as though it could drip water.

"Let's go." James finally forced out the words through gritted teeth. Shaking off Lupin's supporting hand, he marched toward Gryffindor Tower without looking back, his steps heavy and hurried.

Lupin and Peter exchanged a glance and hurried after him.