Defusing the Conflict

Regulus walked to the front and stood beside Narcissa. A sixth-year little wizard from the Nott family snorted. "Black family brat, there's no place for you here."

Regulus ignored him, but remembered him.

His gaze fell across the Corridor. Frank Longbottom had already raised his wand, its tip beginning to glow—the opening gesture of the Disarming Charm.

Almost at the same time, Lucretius Black also raised his hand.

Things were about to get violent.

Regulus moved faster. He flicked his wand with his right hand, and an invisible surge of magic struck Frank Longbottom's wand.

It was not a spell at all, merely a burst of disruptive magic. Frank's spellcasting rhythm was interrupted, and the light at his wand tip instantly scattered.

It was hardly an advanced technique. Any experienced adult wizard could handle it with ease, but it was just right for dealing with inexperienced little wizards.

At the same time, Regulus pressed his left hand over Lucretius Black's wrist.

Lucretius had been about to cast a spell when his wrist was suddenly seized.

He instinctively tried to pull free, but that hand gripped him like an iron band.

It was not merely brute strength. It felt like something stranger; he felt the source of his magic flow being pinched off. His entire arm went numb in an instant, and his wand nearly slipped from his hand.

He turned toward Regulus in shock.

But Regulus was not looking at him. Instead, he turned his gaze to Narcissa.

His goal was to stop the house conflict before it began. Any spell could become the spark that set it off, so he had chosen disruption and suppression.

Narcissa was about to draw her wand when she met Regulus's eyes and saw him shake his head almost imperceptibly.

Her hand paused, and she did not move again.

The entire process had been brief, but everyone on both sides of the Corridor was stunned.

Everyone had seen Regulus move, and then both Prefects had suddenly frozen. For a moment, no one understood what had happened.

They could not make sense of it at all.

On the Gryffindor side, Frank Longbottom stared at his wand, then at Regulus, his face full of disbelief.

On the Slytherin side, Lucretius was still trying to break free, but that hand did not budge.

Unable to see the situation clearly, James Potter continued shouting from within the crowd, "Despicable tricks! Snakes!"

Sirius egged him on from the side, hopping about. "No honor at all!"

"Shut up." Frank Longbottom cut them off, staring at Regulus. "Who are you?"

"Regulus Black." Regulus released Lucretius's wrist. His manner was restrained, but his presence was commanding. "First year."

"First year?" Frank frowned and looked at Lucretius and Narcissa behind Regulus.

Those two seventh-year Prefects were actually allowing a first-year to take the lead?

Of course he knew Regulus, but what kind of method had this Black used?

Lucretius flexed his wrist, his expression dark, but said nothing.

Narcissa stepped half a pace forward and stood just behind Regulus's side, seeming to support him while also protecting him.

Regulus looked at Frank. "Prefect Longbottom, Madam Hooch's ruling has already taken effect. If Gryffindor questions the referee, you should file a formal appeal. You should not be causing trouble here."

He then turned toward Slytherin, though his words were meant for both sides. "As for fouls during the match, the referee has already issued a warning.

Fighting for victory within the limits allowed by the Rules is part of competition. If you think the Rules are unfair, you should push to change them, or adapt to them.

Retaliating after the match is truly undignified."

James wanted to say more, but Frank raised a hand to stop him. The seventh-year Prefect stared at Regulus for several seconds before saying, "You're right. We should take this to the professors."

He put away his wand. Seeing this, the Gryffindor students behind him also gradually lowered their wands, though their looks remained hostile.

Just then, Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn arrived.

The two professors pushed through the crowd. Seeing that the confrontation had already ended, both let out sighs of relief.

Professor McGonagall swept her stern gaze across both sides. "Everyone, return to your common rooms immediately! Prefects, keep your house students under control!"

Professor Slughorn, meanwhile, walked up to Regulus, a pleased smile on his round face. "Very well handled, Mr. Black. Slytherin and Gryffindor should not have turned a match into this."

Regulus gave a slight bow. "I simply did not want the situation to escalate, Professor."

"A wise choice." Professor Slughorn patted his shoulder, then looked at Lucretius and Narcissa. "Take Slytherin back."

The crowd began to disperse, but as Regulus turned away, he felt someone watching him.

He looked up toward the professors' seats. Dumbledore was still sitting there, watching from afar, the meaning in his eyes behind his Half-moon Spectacles impossible to discern.

Regulus did not linger. He looked away and headed back.

The Slytherin crowd automatically parted. This time, it was not only the younger students; the older ones stepped aside as well.

Some looked displeased but said nothing. Some frowned in thought. Others were merely enjoying the spectacle.

Avery, Hermes, and Alex caught up with him. Avery lowered his voice. "Regulus, just now—"

"We'll talk when we get back," Regulus interrupted.

Only after the crowd had dispersed did Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall exchange inscrutable looks.

Professor Slughorn watched the figure that had long since vanished, his face full of admiration. "Minerva, that was splendid, wasn't it?"

"Mr. Black's handling of the matter was highly effective, but..." There was a trace of worry in Professor McGonagall's voice. "...he is only a first-year. It is too early."

She recalled Dumbledore saying that Regulus had no interest in power, but to a wizard, great strength and influence combined were power.

And Regulus was acquiring both at an alarming pace.

That might not mean much in other houses, but Slytherin was different.

"Minerva, some people are destined to be extraordinary." Professor Slughorn chuckled.

With many thoughts on her mind, Professor McGonagall decided that she would speak with Dumbledore later about Mr. Black.

"Perhaps."

That evening, in the Slytherin common room.

The Fireplace burned brightly, green flames casting shifting shadows over the stone walls. Most students were quietly discussing the day's match.

They had won, but it had not been satisfying. Many resented Regulus because they had not gotten to have a proper fight with Gryffindor in the end.

But in light of Regulus's growing reputation and the strength he had displayed, no one had yet come to demand an explanation from him.

Regulus had a sofa to himself, with an untitled book resting on his knees.

He was practicing the Constant Shield Charm. He had now passed the beginner stage and possessed considerable defensive ability.

At around nine o'clock, Lucretius came over. He sat on the sofa opposite Regulus and remained silent for several seconds before speaking.

"About what happened earlier," Lucretius said in a somewhat low voice, no longer as proud and lofty as when they had first met. "When you grabbed my wrist... how did you do that?"

Regulus leaned back into the sofa and looked at him. "Just a small trick."

"A small trick?" Lucretius raised his right hand and flexed his wrist.

"It is still a little numb, and my magic isn't flowing smoothly.

I spent the entire afternoon thinking about it. I even asked Professor Slughorn, and he said it was a very advanced technique—direct Magic 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. When he finished, he fixed Regulus with an unblinking stare, his expression extremely serious.

Regulus met his gaze, calm and utterly unruffled.

Lucretius Black, eldest son of the Burke family, would one day inherit Borgin and Burkes, the antique shop that dealt in both legitimate and illicit goods.

In the original story, this family had remained ambiguous during Voldemort's first rise to power, yet had somehow emerged completely unscathed in the end.

Borgin himself was an astute and powerful wizard. Even Voldemort had worked in his shop, and Borgin had later remained safe and sound.

People like that could never be taken too seriously.

But Lucretius was still far too immature.

"Everyone has their own area of expertise." Naturally, Regulus would not tell the truth. With a perfunctory show of sincerity, he said, "My control over magic is rather precise."

"Precise enough to cut off someone else's magic flow?" Lucretius continued staring at him, utterly unconvinced. "Even my father cannot do that."

"Perhaps your father simply has not shown you."

Lucretius fell silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed, somewhat self-mockingly. "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 fought Longbottom, Professor McGonagall would have deducted at least fifty points from Slytherin."

"A Prefect leading a brawl would probably cost more than fifty points."

Regulus went along with him. He did not believe Lucretius truly cared about house points.

For a pure-blood Slytherin Prefect of that age, house points were merely a means of maintaining status, nothing more.

"That's why I owe you one." Lucretius stood up, then looked back before leaving.

Regulus shrugged, unconcerned. Forcing someone to owe you a favor was also an effective social tactic.

Regulus watched his retreating back and calculated inwardly. Lucretius's attitude had clearly changed—from looking down on him to speaking as an equal. That was a good sign.

Display strength, reap the rewards.