Chapter 36: Winning Over the Kids
Sleep after the Star-Orbit Guided Meditation was extraordinarily restful.
It was like being immersed in a tranquil sea woven from starlight. The soul was nourished and consolidated; exhaustion was silently smoothed away.
Upon waking, the mind was sharp, thoughts lucid, every limb brimming with solid power. Even each breath felt like magic flowing more smoothly within.
That sense of progress — perceptible almost moment to moment — was intoxicating.
Regulus understood: this was most likely a rapid adaptation phase, the body and mind reacting to the unprecedented, systematic stimulation of the Star-Orbit method for the first time.
Like parched earth receiving a thorough rain — every drop absorbed greedily.
But he also recognized clearly that this pace could not last.
Both body and soul had limits. Once the initial potential was tapped and the foundation laid, growth would inevitably slow, until it hit some barrier that could not easily be breached.
When that happened, advancing further might require a transformation of a fundamentally different kind, or an entirely new — perhaps more efficient — methodology.
For now, however, the road was walked one step at a time. He savored the early harvest of swift accumulation. Wednesday afternoon. Charms had just ended. Regulus was heading to the library with his books when Avery Cuthbert called after him.
"Regulus —" Avery's voice had shed some of its habitual casual arrogance — "could we talk in the dormitory? Something's come up."
Regulus glanced at him, then nodded. "Sure."
When they reached the Slytherin dormitory, Alex and Hermes were both out.
Avery shut the door. His face bore a gravity somewhat out of place on someone his age, mixed with a boy's awkwardness.
He cleared his throat. "My father... wrote to me last night."
Regulus listened without responding. He had a fair idea where this was heading.
Avery paused, apparently assembling his thoughts, then seemed to reach some inner resolve and blurted out a torrent of words:
"He says the Ministry's atmosphere has been very delicate lately. Many of the old families are recalibrating their strategies.
He's heard about your performance at Hogwarts — specifically that recent... exchange with the fifth-year Travers.
He believes that with an heir like you, the House of Black could play a much more significant role in the coming changes.
He would like me to maintain a good relationship with you."
The delivery was stiff, but the meaning was unmistakable.
The Cuthbert family — another ancient pure-blood house — its current head held an important Ministry position and possessed keen instincts.
The strength and potential Regulus had displayed had already spread through every channel, drawing the notice of pure-blood families adept at calculation and foresight.
They were reassessing the value of the House of Black and attempting to establish or strengthen ties through the next generation.
Regulus offered no comment on this.
Avery watched him nervously after his speech.
Privately, he had long since conceded to Regulus. The gap in strength was undeniable.
The family's directive merely gave him a more presentable reason to draw closer.
At eleven, a boy didn't really grasp political investment or family alliances. His thinking was simpler and more direct: Regulus is strong. Sticking with him can't go wrong. And it's nothing to be ashamed of.
Regulus looked at the complicated expression on Avery's face — part family duty, part genuine respect, and a scrap of boyish pride refusing to bow completely — and understood.
Even the finest pure-blood education couldn't change the fact that an eleven-year-old was still a child. Managing to say, in essence, "I defer to you and want in" was already impressive.
He considered for a moment, then spoke deliberately: "Avery, we share a dormitory and attend the same classes. We've been companions from the start. If you want to maintain a good relationship with me, that's perfectly fine."
Then his tone grew more serious. "But there are things I need to make clear upfront."
Avery straightened instinctively, as though engaged in a formal meeting — though he couldn't have said why.
Perhaps because Regulus's manner and bearing more closely resembled the adults at home. Avery simply responded to them the same way.
"First: strength is fundamental. Family glory gives us a starting point, but true pride should be built on the power you personally command — not on a surname alone."
Avery could not have agreed more. He yearned to prove himself, to earn personal honor beyond the family name.
His gaze burned as he fixed it on Regulus.
"Second: learn to observe and think. Slytherin has no shortage of clever people, but too often that cleverness is misapplied. Take the longer view."
There was weight behind those words. Avery didn't fully grasp the subtext, but he nodded vigorously all the same.
"Third," Regulus looked him in the eye, "uphold a baseline of decency — at least in front of me."
Avery barely hesitated. He nodded firmly. "I understand. I'll do that."
He sensed that Regulus was not treating him as a simple follower who took orders, but as someone entering a pact. That felt much better.
After all, who around here wasn't a pure-blood young master?
With the initial compact in place, Avery seemed to relax. He dropped his voice and jerked his chin toward Hermes's tightly drawn curtains. "Regulus... have you noticed Mulciber being a bit odd?
He disappears at night all the time. When he comes back, he smells strange. And that duel — the spell he used..."
Regulus followed his gaze to the dark drapery, then answered evenly: "Avery, everyone has secrets.
Until someone either reveals them voluntarily or causes actual harm, affording a degree of privacy and respect is basic conduct."
He pivoted immediately: "That said, keeping a reasonable eye on things is warranted.
His behavior is certainly irregular — possibly involving some uncommon magical disciplines, perhaps even curse-related material.
He may have his own objectives here at Hogwarts. We don't need to dig into every detail. Just maintain limited awareness — enough to avoid getting dragged into unnecessary trouble."
Avery nodded thoughtfully. 'Regulus is saying Mulciber is in some kind of trouble?
Doesn't look it. I just thought he was a Dark-Arts enthusiast...'
Regulus, meanwhile, was thinking something else entirely.
Hermes Mulciber — brooding, dangerous, possessing unorthodox Dark knowledge, and clearly driven by purpose.
Treating such a person merely as a roommate to watch was a waste.
He could potentially become a useful operative. The prerequisite, of course, was control — or at least a stable relationship built on mutual interest or deterrence.
Deterrence was already partially established. Interest, however, still needed to be found.
With Avery, a demonstration of cognitive and physical superiority was sufficient to win him over.
Hermes would likely respond only to more direct displays of power — and tangible exchanges of benefit.
In a shared dormitory, so-called privacy was inherently fragile before absolute strength.
Regulus had no intention of prying into every detail, but he needed to learn Hermes's limits and needs so that, at the right moment, he could extend the olive branch of collaboration.
The conversation drifted to Alex Rosier.
Avery curled his lip. "Rosier... he's too soft. Timid. Average talent. In our dormitory, he's a bit... out of place."
Every word dripped with contempt.
Despite Regulus's earlier guidance, Avery's ingrained pride still would not let him respect someone from the fringes of a pure-blood house who was mild and unhurried by nature.
Regulus, familiar with the mentality of boys like Avery, knew that lecturing would only breed resistance.
"Avery," he tried a different approach, "when you need many people for something big — preserving family honor, say, or achieving a goal — is it better to have more people on your side, or fewer?"
Avery blinked. "More, obviously."
Regulus guided him further: "Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. Alex may not shine in a duel.
But he's meticulous, patient, and his Potions and Herbology notes are always the most thorough. His grasp of foundational theory is solid.
And he belongs to the Rosier family — even a branch represents a network, a stance, and a measure of influence."
He watched the contemplative look forming on Avery's face and continued: "Power takes many forms.
Raw combat ability is one. Careful logistics, reliable information, even simply a position of neutrality rather than opposition — all of these are power.
Pushing away someone who could become part of your strength, for no reason other than prejudice, is not wise."
What Regulus was showing Avery was a perspective far beyond an eleven-year-old's — a pragmatic worldview and the capacity to consolidate resources.
Avery couldn't follow every subtlety, but he had to admit: Regulus was right.