Little Minerva

On the surface of the water, James Potter was struggling with the two Bronze Door.

He held the wand in his mouth, gripped the brass ring with both hands, braced one leg against the stone frame beside him, leaned back, exhaled through his nose, and strained even his neck.

He pulled on the brass ring, making it creak, and dust fell from the cracks in the door, but the door remained tightly shut.

Regulus watched with great interest, and to be fair, Potter did have a certain stubbornness.

If you can't pull it open, try a different position. After kicking with your left foot, switch to your right. If that doesn't work, step on the door panel with the sole of your shoe.

The fluorescent light shone through his teeth, swaying with his head, making Sirius look increasingly impatient.

"Stop shaking!" Sirius nudged his shoulder with his elbow, crouched down in the corner of the door, and brought his wand close to the stone slab.

He still remembered the small hole that opened the door, and searched along the bottom of the bronze door, one section at a time, and ran his fingers along the boundaries of the patterns, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

James strained his head on the top while he searched diligently below; each busy with their own task, neither wasting the other's time.

At least Sirius remembered to look for the mechanism, and his brain was still working. Unfortunately, the wand hole was on the outside of the door, and Regulus hadn't put anything inside.

As for Peter Pettigrew, he had already sat down on the ground, his legs tucked under his robe, one hand gripping Sirius's hem, his eyes fixed on the mirror in the distance.

Sirius moved to a different spot, he shifted his bottom along with him, his lips trembling, unable to speak clearly.

Regulus glanced at him, then his gaze returned to Potter.

What a jerk! He's scared himself half to death the moment the door closed. If he really tried to run, Sirius would have to come back and save him.

The water beneath the tree rippled gently. Regulus was watching Potter prepare to step through the door with both feet when a Magic Power suddenly swept across the edge of his senses.

Hundreds of meters away, the location of the Magic Power changed rapidly. One moment it was in the shadow of the tower, and the next it was at the edge of the grass, with almost no transition in between.

There is a moving trajectory, from northwest to southeast, hugging the ground all the way, so fast that it is almost a flash, and each segment of the trajectory is reduced to just a single point.

It wasn't Space Magic; he was too familiar with Space Magic. He could recognize the textures of tearing, compressing, and folding space even with his eyes closed. This was pure speed, fast to an inappropriate degree.

His brow furrowed slightly.

The Magic Power within his body surged up at the same instant, rushing outward from the core, filling his entire body along the channels, forming a power ready to be released at any time. The grass beneath his feet was pressed down, and the air around him seemed to stagnate for a moment.

Six stars in the Star Orbit lit up simultaneously. Bellatrix's Guardian Will surfaced first, Betelgeuse's Burst Will will surged and boiled within its body.

Everything was like instinct, faster than thought itself.

Immediately, a few unfamiliar features in the Magic Power matched his memory, Regulus recognized the person, withdrawing the power he had gathered.

McGonagall had already turned her head, her gaze falling on him first, her eyes behind her glasses widening slightly.

The sudden surge of Magic Power nearby carried an immediate danger; it appeared with incredible speed, and by the time she sensed it, her fingers had already touched the wand inside her robes.

She glanced at Regulus's hanging hands, the surprise in her eyes still lingering, then looked at the person emerging from the shadows of the trees, her brow furrowing with a hint of helplessness.

"So you've been here, Little Minerva."

The voice of the newcomer carried the joy of finding an acquaintance, rising slightly at the end, followed by footsteps that drifted away on the night breeze.

Little Minerva...

Regulus suppressed his amused expression and turned away without making a sound.

Hogwarts changes its Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts every year, and this year, as expected, Aksha Kahnstein took over.

She stood where the moonlight shone, her dark brown hair combed upwards, with a few wisps of hair falling across her forehead near her brow bone.

A breeze blew through the trees, causing the ends of her hair to flutter slightly, revealing her full forehead.

Thick eyebrows with outward-pointing arches and slightly upturned ends; below them are large, elongated eyes.

Her eyes, too, turned upwards, and her brown pupils were looking at McGonagall with a friendly smile. Even the professor's furrowed brows pleased her.

With a straight nose and full lips, her features are striking on their own, yet they suit each other perfectly on the same face. From her eyebrows and eyes to her lips, looking down her profile, it's impossible to find anything that needs changing.

Just this face alone is probably at the top level that humans can grow to; the bone structure is strong, the skin is in good condition, and the proportions and details are all very impressive.

She looked to be about thirty years old, with skin so white it seemed to glow. In the moonlight, her cheeks and the side of her neck were much brighter than the surrounding area.

Her skin was delicate and clean, and the wispy hairs on her forehead made her eyebrows and eyes even clearer. She looked at people with a hint of coldness, but the joy in her eyes made her whole face come alive.

She's the first person you see when you stand in a crowd, and once you see her, you can't take your eyes off her.

Tonight she wore a deep purple dress, a thin shawl draped over her shoulders, a silver ornament at her neckline, and small earrings that swayed gently as she tilted her head.

Dumbledore introduced her at the opening banquet, Regulus had already taken her classes and noticed her Magic Power, but this was the first time he had been this close.

The Magic Power within her was immense, carrying a discipline that could not be acquired through mere accumulation. Its depths were shrouded in darkness and mystery. If one were to sense it, one could encounter an aura like fresh blood, refreshingly so.

The scent of grass and trees filled his nostrils, while the aroma of blood lingered in his Magic Perception. The two scents each occupied a separate space, Regulus found it increasingly intriguing as he tried to distinguish them.

Wizards who use Dark Arts for many years will gradually have their Magic Power tainted with those traces.

Aksha's characteristics are innate, present even in the most subtle changes in her Magic Power; no matter how skilled she becomes, she still retains the essence of Vampire.

She was quite at ease about it, letting her Magic Power work as usual in class, and even when she occasionally passed by students, she did the same, not bothering to hide it at all.

It's really unnecessary. The little wizards in the classroom can't even control their own Magic Power. Among all the little wizards in the Castle, Regulus is probably the only one who can discern her true identity from her daily routines.

Others were more interested in what she was wearing today.

Regulus recalled her outfits since the start of the semester; she changed them almost Tiantian, even matching her earrings and small accessories at the neckline. Dark colors were the main focus, with the occasional touch of dark red, and she always paired them with silver, not gold.

A professor, dressed meticulously for work, arrived at the ancient Castle. Her walk Corridor was quite a sight, giving the young Wizards more opportunities to stretch their necks.

McGonagall's gaze happened to turn towards him, and Regulus looked at the water in time, his expression settling between politeness and quietness, behaving very well-behavedly.

McGonagall shifted her gaze to Aksha, her face still stern, but her tone now clearly showing helplessness. "Aksha, there are still students here."

Aksha turned her head to look at Regulus, her long eyes filled with a smile as she gazed at his well-behaved face.

Regulus nodded slightly to her, his posture upright and impeccable.

She looked back at McGonagall, her tone light. "Should I call him after he leaves?"

McGonagall pursed her lips slightly, her gaze behind her glasses lingering on her old friend's face.

Aksha was still waiting, her eyes crinkling with a smile, feeling that her suggestion was very well thought out.

McGonagall was somewhat exasperated with her, and changed the subject. "It's so late, why are you still out?"

Aksha looked up at the moon and said in a relaxed tone, "Now is the perfect time; you should go to sleep."

A new commotion came from the water, Regulus turned to look.

James finally loosened his grip on the door knocker, rubbing his reddened palms, and angrily took the wand out of his mouth.

Sirius stood up, glanced back at the crack in the door, and began to move into the hall.

Peter pushed himself up and followed closely behind. After running a couple of steps, he tried to grab Sirius's robe, but Sirius shook him off, and Peter quickly withdrew his hand.

Aksha glanced in the direction of the voice, recognized a few faces inside, and said casually, "Oh, it's these little guys."

Her gaze shifted from the water to McGonagall, then to Regulus, her smile growing ever wider.

A professor and one student teamed up to mess with three other students, and they were still full of energy even in the middle of the night.

"How long have you been here?" Her voice trailed off with a hint of languor. After asking, she glanced at Regulus and added with interest, "Is Young Black dealing with Big Black?"

"It's only just begun," McGonagall said seriously, then looked at Sirius in the water, her gaze behind her glasses softening slightly. "The bigger one really needs to learn his lesson."

Aksha raised an eyebrow, her gaze sweeping over McGonagall's face with a mischievous look. "Is this one of Gryffindor's little performances?"

McGonagall glanced at her, about to speak, when Aksha looked at Regulus, her tone tinged with a deliberately provocative curiosity. "But why is there a Slytherin here?"

Regulus stood to the side, his ears perked up, his face still impeccably composed.

McGonagall met Aksha's expectant gaze and pursed her lips. "Aksha, you saw it all."

Regulus kept his gaze steady so as not to hear too clearly.

Their relationship was indeed very good, very close. Professor McGonagall could often silence the entire Corridor with just a single sentence in the Castle, but with this person, even changing the subject required some effort.

He glanced at McGonagall; the professor was looking at the water, his face expressionless, though his profile looked a little tense in the moonlight.

If he were to say something like "Little Minerva" one day, I wonder how Professor McGonagall would respond?

The imagined scene had barely begun when McGonagall's eyes darted to this side.

Regulus stood up straighter, admiring the scene on the water, and suddenly thought that Potter was running quite well, his arms swinging naturally.

Aksha, on the other hand, felt quite at ease. She moved to the edge of the tree canopy, avoiding the swaying shadows of the leaves overhead, and let the moonlight fall upon her.

Her shawl fluttered in the wind; one hand gently held it up, while the other hung loosely at her side, fingers resting casually on the hem of her skirt.

His posture was relaxed and casual, Taiyi from how he looked in the classroom. He seemed more at ease than when he was standing behind the podium, his face turned towards McGonagall, his attention mostly on her, occasionally glancing at Regulus.

Regulus's gaze fell on her profile, recalling the surname in the family library.

Kahnstein, he knew about it a long time ago.

In the Black family Library was a copy of "The European Register of Strange Beings," written in 1641 by a wizard who traveled Europe and recorded blood-related families and special ethnic groups in various places.

He wrote down every intelligent creature other than wizards, expressing disdain for Vampire, Veela, goblin, Giant, Centaur, and everything else.

He wasn't very polite when writing about some of the Pureblood families that are still well-known today, suspecting that they have Giant blood, goblin blood, Centaur blood, or some other unknown bloodline.

However, when it comes to Kahnstein, the author clearly holds back.

The book dedicates several pages to this family, tracing back to the late 14th century, mentioning the mountains southeast of Styria in Austria, an ancient castle built on a mountain ridge, and the territory belonging to the family.

Kahnstein held the title of Earl, and his name can be found on old leases in several surrounding villages; the bloodline records of his family members have been preserved in the castle.

Bloodline inheritance, generation after generation, the book lists several inheritances with clear parents and children, which is far from the common belief that a bite can produce a child of the same kind.

Stone markers dating back hundreds of years still stand on the borders of the Karnstein family's territory.

In "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," Vampire are grouped together with Magical Creature, rather than being listed as a separate species.

They appear in older Magical Creatures books and in Defense Against the Dark Arts texts. After describing their dark habitats, the text then covers their food and habits, and finally, it explains how to deal with them if encountered.

Pale, haggard, troubled by blood offerings, struggling to survive, in a gloomy situation, and stories of dealing with wizards are always tinged with wariness and embarrassment.

He had never actually seen Vampire. Real Vampire wouldn't appear around Pureblood families heir like him. In the eyes of Pureblood Wizards, Vampire and Werewolf should sit at the same table.

The person in front of me clearly has another seat, and most likely can choose the seat they prefer.

She's probably not young. She calls McGonagall "Little Minerva," so by any measure, she should be around Dumbledore's age.

The wealth was also considerable; records of the castle and territory were written in books more than three hundred years ago, and the accumulation over the centuries continues into the future.

Regulus glanced at the thin chain hanging from the hem of her skirt, then his gaze fell on the ring on her finger.

The styles are different from those taught in class, and the Magic Power is different too; they are all carefully selected, high-quality items.

She lived a long life, was wealthy, enjoyed dressing up, and maintained an excellent physical and Magic Power state; she took very good care of herself.

If we're talking about beauty alone, people might think of Veela, but Regulus felt that Magic Power was more worthy of his attention. Comparing it solely to beauty meant missing too much.

The immense and skillful Magic Power emanating from her also made one want to look at her more.

Magic Power flowed deep within her body, subtly adjusting itself with each movement. Her natural dark texture and cultivated sense of order were perfectly unified, captivating his gaze more effectively than her face.