Further off, several Slytherins who had been practicing saw the scene and immediately swarmed over, three, then five, more and more gathering around.
Alphard's expression changed, and his two friends, Colin and Gareth, exchanged nervous glances.
Just then, with his back to all his Slytherin classmates, Regulus slowly raised his left hand.
His palm was vertical, fingers pressed together, an unmistakably clear "stop" gesture.
Avery paused for a moment; his raised wand lowered but wasn't withdrawn.
Hermes narrowed his eyes, staring intently at Regulus's back. His wand remained raised, though the tip gradually drifted off target.
Alex let out a sigh of relief.
The gathered Slytherins hesitated, their brooms hovering in mid-air, and they did not advance any further.
Regulus didn't look back, but a subtle smile touched the corners of his mouth.
An obedience test.
These Slytherin students, arrogant, gloomy, cowardly, or followers, were now halting according to Regulus's instruction.
Getting them to obey collectively wasn't easy, but as long as one person stopped, the others would naturally follow.
This stemmed from the absolute crushing of the fifth-year Travers on the first night of school; his authority had been tentatively established.
Opposite them, the Gryffindors who had also gathered saw this and stopped advancing, everyone exchanging obscure glances.
"What's the matter, Black?" Alphard feigned calm. "Afraid your helpers will embarrass you?"
"Quite the opposite," Regulus said with a puzzled tone. "I'm afraid they might act too quickly, leaving you no chance to demonstrate your... courage?"
"Expelliarmus!" Alphard shouted, humiliated and angry, firing a red light again.
This time, Regulus didn't even chant an incantation. With a gentle flick of his wand, a faint light hit the binding strap at the front of Alphard's broom.
It was the Mending Charm, first-year curriculum, used to fix stool legs or patch robes.
Click. The strap suddenly tightened, and the front of the broom dipped violently downward.
Alphard's Disarming Charm shot toward the ground because of the sudden drop, blasting a small crater in the sand. He screamed and hugged the broom handle tightly to keep from being thrown off.
"A Mending Charm... on the binding strap?!" a Gryffindor exclaimed in shock.
"Brilliant!" a Slytherin praised loudly.
Seeing this, Colin hurriedly moved to support: "Rictusempra!"
Silver light shot toward Regulus's side.
Regulus didn't even look. He pointed his wand down to the left: "Aguamenti."
A stream of water hit the ground beneath Colin's broom, splashing water and turning the earth into mud.
Old Cleansweeps still had wheel frames; the wheel of Colin's broom sank into the mud, causing the entire broom to jerk to a halt, and his spell went wide.
Gareth tried to sneak attack from the other side: "Stupefy!"
This time, Regulus finally glanced at him, but only for a second.
He tapped his wand on the ground near Gareth's feet: "Incendio."
A small cluster of flames ignited on the dry grass.
Gareth's broom had a wicker-woven rest, which was highly flammable. Terrified, he hastily pulled up, sending his spell off course.
Three directions, three attacks. Regulus used three of the most basic spells, all targeting the environment or the brooms, causing his opponents to lose balance and miss their marks.
Once is a coincidence, twice is luck, but three times is a crushing disparity in skill.
Alphard's face was pale. He had barely steadied his broom when Regulus's voice floated over: "Do you want to continue? or do you have something else to show?"
The surrounding Slytherin students were dumbfounded.
"He didn't attack a person once..." a Slytherin girl whispered.
"It was all directed at the brooms and the ground," another boy murmured. "But that's more humiliating than hitting them directly."
"The key is, he used nothing but content from the first thirty pages of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1!"
"I don't believe for a second that he doesn't know other spells."
Avery stared at Regulus's back with a complex expression. He knew every one of those spells, but he couldn't produce that kind of effect.
Hermes quietly put away his wand, looking thoughtfully at the spots that had been precisely hit. Every choice maximized the effect while minimizing the effort.
"What are you doing?!" Madam Hooch's roar finally arrived.
She stormed onto the field like a whirlwind, scanning the scene with an ashen face. "Put down your wands! Immediately!"
Alphard and his two friends panic-strickenly stowed their wands and jumped off their brooms, faces covered in sweat.
"Prewett! Macmillan! Diggory!" Madam Hooch said sternly. "Using hexes without permission in Flying Class! Against a classmate! Thirty points from Gryffindor! And a week's detention for each of you!"
"But Professor!" Alphard cried urgently. "He used them too-"
"What did Black use?" Madam Hooch turned her sharp gaze toward Regulus.
"A Mending Charm, Professor," Regulus met her eyes, his gaze open and frank. "To reinforce a loose strap. A Water-Making Spell to reduce ground dust. A Fire-Making Spell to prevent the ground from being slippery."
Madam Hooch stared at Regulus for a few seconds, then looked at the traces on the ground. The strap was indeed tightened, there was indeed water on the ground, and there were indeed scorch marks on the turf.
"Prewett," she said coldly. "Are you accusing Black of attacking you with a Mending Charm?"
A few suppressed snickers rippled through the crowd.
Alphard opened his mouth, but couldn't squeeze out a single word.
"Another ten points from Gryffindor, for falsely accusing a classmate," Madam Hooch said mercilessly. "Now, everyone back to the castle!"
As the Slytherin students packed up their brooms and left, almost everyone cast an extra glance at Regulus as they passed him.
Those looks contained surprise, awe, and recognition. Slytherins respected power, but they respected the wisdom to wield power even more.
That evening, Slytherin Common Room.
Emerald flames burned quietly in the fireplace, reflecting off the dark green drapes and silver decorations. The first-year students gathered in the sofa area, the topic naturally centered on the afternoon's events.
"Why didn't you let us fight?" a boy couldn't help but ask Regulus. "We had the numbers, we could have totally-"
"Could have what?" Regulus interrupted him, looking up at everyone. "Could have given Gryffindor a reason to file a complaint?"
"Everyone gathering together to attack Gryffindors?"
He put down his quill, his voice not loud: "Slytherin has lost the House Cup for three consecutive years. Every ten points could decide the final victory or defeat. Is it worth letting the house lose dozens of points?"
Several students fell silent.
House points were a sensitive spot for Slytherins; the younger they were, the more they cared.
"Furthermore," Regulus continued, "if you had acted, it would have been a brawl. When Madam Hooch arrived, she would have seen Slytherins ganging up on three Gryffindors. But now-"
"What she saw was three Gryffindors besieging one Slytherin, while that Slytherin didn't even fight back, but was simply repairing a broom, cleaning the ground, and drying the turf."
Someone chuckled softly.
Regulus looked around and noticed some older students looking over as well, so he raised his voice slightly.
"And the result?" He stood up, facing the entire common room. "Gryffindor lost forty points, Slytherin didn't lose a single one, and Prewett's trio is in detention until next week."
He lifted his chin slightly, his voice somewhat impassioned: "And we won respect. Madam Hooch saw Slytherin's restraint and discipline, and the other houses saw that provoking Slytherin comes with a price."
Prefect Lucretius Burke walked over at this moment. He looked at all the lower-year students: "Impulsiveness, brawling, losing points, that is the Gryffindor way. Slytherin seeks victory, profit, and glory. Black demonstrated today how to maximize the blow to the opponent within the rules, while minimizing our own losses."
He turned to Regulus and said formally, "You won respect for the house and avoided a disastrous loss of points. Well done, Black."
Several upper-year students nodded in agreement, while the lower years looked at Regulus with a mix of admiration and envy.
Not long after enrollment, he had already gained public recognition from the prefects and upperclassmen.
Regulus nodded slightly. "I simply made the choice most beneficial to the house."
Back in the dormitory, Avery was writing an essay when he suddenly stopped his pen and asked Regulus, "You did it on purpose, right?"
Regulus cast him a look of interest. "On purpose?"
Avery was different from some of the pure-blood idiots; he could think.
Hermes also looked up from his book, joining him in staring at Regulus. He, too, had realized something was off about the situation earlier that day.
Regulus didn't wait for Avery to answer. He asked Hermes in a declarative tone, "You wanted to hex me?"
Hermes's gaze froze slightly. The thought had indeed been there, but only for a split second.
He noticed even that? Is he bluffing me?
He remained silent.
Avery narrowed his eyes, glancing back and forth between Regulus and Hermes.
Alex held his breath, daring not to attract attention.
Can I change dorms?
It's so scary in here!