The silver-white light suddenly collapsed inward, shrinking into a hazy, pulsing knot. Then it stretched, unfurled, and began to take shape.
Wings pushed out from either side, each feather made of pure silver glow, its edges dusted with points of light like tiny stars.
A sleek, powerful body formed, head lifting, beak sharpening, eyes becoming two brighter sparks of silver.
At last, the tail feathers spread wide, trailing like a comet.
A silver bird hovered before Regulus.
It was somewhere between an eagle and a kite in size, its wings built from countless fine fragments of light. With the faintest movement, those fragments flickered like starlight winking in and out.
The tips of its feathers were a clean, perfect silver, and in the dying sunlight they refracted a halo of color, almost like a rainbow mist.
Its eyes were bright silver-gray, so close to Regulus's own that it hit him like a jolt. The gaze was sharp, and deep.
It spread its wings and held steady without flapping, suspended as if gravity had simply stopped applying to it.
Fine grains of star-dust drifted from the edges of its wings. When they touched the ground, the shadows within a few meters thinned, as if darkness itself had been pushed back.
Regulus stared at it, and a strange feeling rose in his chest, like he was looking into a mirror.
A thought surfaced, sudden and undeniable.
This wasn't something he had manufactured. It wasn't a creature he'd constructed with spellwork and raw magic.
It had grown from inside him.
It was the shape of his deepest desire made real, the projection of some part of his soul.
A Patronus answered the truest thing in your heart.
So what did he truly want?
Regulus asked himself, quietly, with complete honesty.
He wanted real freedom. Not the small-minded version some people dreamed of, an excuse to indulge themselves and call it independence.
He wanted the freedom to choose his path, to live without being tied down by anyone's leash.
He wanted the endless night sky. He wanted to break past the boundaries of the physical world, to reach places others declared impossible.
He wanted power, so he could protect what he meant to protect, accomplish what he meant to accomplish, become what he meant to become.
All of it gathered into the silver bird in front of him.
In the way it opened its wings was the determination to smash through obstacles.
In the way it hovered was freedom from restraint.
In the starshine in its eyes was longing for a vast world.
It was Regulus.
Or rather, it was the truest and purest part of him, laid bare.
He didn't know what kind of Patronus it was. He'd never seen a bird like it, and he couldn't remember any book describing it.
But he could feel it, perfectly, unmistakably.
It fit him.
Orion stood three steps away, rigid.
He stared at the silver bird as if he couldn't blink. His eyes were wide, his lips parted, and his wand nearly slipped from his hand.
The head of the House of Black was usually the definition of control. Right now, his face was nothing but shock and disbelief.
Several seconds passed before he found his voice again, and when it came it trembled.
"Starlight Kite…"
Regulus turned his head. "What?"
"Starlight Kite." Orion repeated it, still staring at the bird. "A legendary magical creature. I thought it was extinct, or that it was never real in the first place…"
He took two careful steps forward, drawn in by instinct, then stopped, afraid of startling it.
The Starlight Kite turned its head and looked at him. Those silver-gray eyes were calm. No hostility, but no warmth either.
"There are only scattered records," Orion said, his voice steadying even as his words sped up.
"Starlight Kites only appear in places where magic is pure. They feed on starlight. They can pass through space itself. When they fly, they don't flap their wings, they… they let space carry them.
Their feathers can dispel Dark Magic. Their eyes can see through illusions…"
With every sentence, the sense of familiarity in Regulus deepened.
Feeding on starlight, just as he practiced star guided meditation, drawing on the stars, yearning toward them.
Passing through space, just as he studied space magic, trying to understand folding and shifting.
Flying without flapping, and what he pursued was exactly that, understanding the rules, moving with them, using them.
Dispelling Dark Magic, the way he believed power itself had no inherent good or evil, only purpose and use.
Seeing through illusions, the way he'd always tried to look past surface and into truth, refusing to be fooled by false glory or hollow threats.
It wasn't just similar to him. It was him, translated into something animal and elemental.
Or perhaps it was his heart, made visible through magic.
As Orion spoke, something in Regulus stirred.
He wanted to test it.
A thought flickered through him. Go over there.
The Starlight Kite reacted as if it had heard him.
Its shape blurred, and it vanished.
Regulus didn't even feel where it went. The ripple of space was too light, too natural, leaving no trace.
In the next instant, it appeared a hundred meters away, hovering above the sea.
Behind it, the sun continued sinking into the horizon, and the bird's silver outline was clean and unmistakable in the gold.
Then it disappeared again.
When it returned, it stood at the far end of the cliff on a jutting rock, head tilted down as it watched waves crash below.
Regulus's thought shifted. Come back.
The Starlight Kite was instantly in front of him again, as if it had never moved.
It lifted its head, meeting Regulus's gaze.
There was something in those eyes that felt almost intelligent, depth that went beyond instinct. As if it truly understood him, truly moved with his will.
Orion watched, and his breathing turned sharp.
He fought to keep his composure, but his fingers trembled slightly, and excitement had flushed his cheeks.
This was a man who could sit through a Wizengamot session under crushing pressure without changing expression.
Right now, he looked like a child seeing magic for the first time.
"Dumbledore…" he murmured. "Dumbledore's Patronus is a phoenix…"
Regulus looked at him.
"A phoenix is a legendary magical creature," Orion continued, and there was no hiding the thrill in his voice now.
"It can be reborn from ash. Its tears can heal. Its song can fill people with courage. Everyone says Dumbledore's phoenix Patronus foreshadows greatness."
He looked back at Regulus, eyes shining with a brightness Regulus had never seen in him before.
"A Starlight Kite… in the legends, it's on the same level as a phoenix, maybe even rarer.
At least people have seen phoenixes. Starlight Kites exist only in the oldest records… Regulus, you…"
He couldn't finish, too overwhelmed to push the words out, but the meaning was obvious.
Regulus would be great. Not just successful, not just powerful, but the kind of wizard who left a name in magical history.
Orion's mind even leapt ahead to ridiculous distance.
When Regulus eventually stepped onto the public stage and showed what he could do, should the House of Black crest be changed?
The thought passed like a spark. It was far too early for that.
Still… he wanted to see that day.
Regulus listened, thoughtful.
A Starlight Kite could pass through space like a phoenix, maybe even better. If legends were true, it had an affinity for space itself.
But right now, he had only just managed to conjure a corporeal Patronus. He could hold it, communicate with it in the simplest way, and that was all.
There were many advanced uses for a Patronus.
Sending messages.
Driving off Dementors.
Scouting.
Assisting in combat.
All of it would take time and practice.
And if the Starlight Kite truly had space abilities, maybe it could do things other Patronuses couldn't.
He could use it to practice space magic. Have it slip through certain barriers to gather information. Make it appear behind an enemy in the middle of a fight.
Maybe he could find a chance to speak with Dumbledore.
When it came to Patronuses, Dumbledore was likely among the very best in the wizarding world. With a phoenix Patronus, he must have developed all kinds of frighteningly brilliant uses.
But Regulus would need the right opening. He wasn't Harry Potter. Professors didn't automatically warm to him.
This wasn't the same as asking a professor a simple question after class. He couldn't just walk up and request help.
Still, opportunities existed. They always did.
Orion drew several slow breaths, forcing himself back into calm.
Excitement was one thing. Reality still had to be considered.
He stepped closer to Regulus, eyes on the Starlight Kite hovering nearby, and lowered his voice.
"This Patronus… you should hide it for two years."
Regulus looked at him, waiting for the reason, even though he already understood the shape of it.
"The Patronus Charm is truly advanced, and it's undeniably positive white magic," Orion explained. "If you show it now, it might clash with Voldemort's side.
They won't say it aloud, but they'll think it. A Black who can cast a Patronus, and not just any Patronus, doesn't feel like someone who belongs with them."
Regulus nodded.
Anything beautiful sat badly against Voldemort.
The Death Eaters and Voldemort worshiped power, control, fear.
The Patronus Charm stood for protection, hope, and the kind of emotion that pushed back darkness.
Those ideals were at odds.
And for now, Regulus still needed to maneuver under Voldemort's shadow. He couldn't afford to reveal that incompatibility too early.