Silence reigned in the dormitory.
Regulus drew the heavy bed curtains and cast spells for silence and protection against prying eyes, shutting out everything external, the praise, the gossip, the wariness, the calculations, and even the lingering feverish warmth from Bella's letter.
He sat cross-legged on the bed, closed his eyes, and sank his consciousness deep within.
The basic cycle of magic flowed along its familiar path, gently washing over and nourishing his entire body, continuously strengthening every inch of skin, flesh, sinew, and bone.
Immediately, in the upper layers of his consciousness, mental power began to condense and weave together.
The three stars of Orion's Belt lit up one by one in the darkness of his mind, shifting with a movement that was slow and imperceptible, yet undeniably real.
The Star Orbit Guided Meditation began to turn, smoothing over his chaotic thoughts with its grand imagery.
Once his mind was completely calm, Regulus attempted to ignite the fourth star.
Events had developed beyond his expectations, and his own pace needed to quicken.
The synchronization of the three stars was merely the beginning, the very threshold of the Star Orbit Guided Meditation.
He cast his consciousness toward Orion's brilliant right shoulder, the supergiant star named Betelgeuse, glowing with a dark red halo.
This required him to incorporate this new point into the entire dynamic system while simultaneously maintaining the moving model of the three stars.
Betelgeuse had its own trajectory; its relative position and movement in relation to the Belt stars formed the foundation of Orion's upper body structure.
The difficulty spiked sharply.
Simulating this stellar movement was a hundred times more difficult than constructing a static model.
It required precise calculation, powerful spatial imagination, and absolute magical control.
He had to maintain the precise relative positions of the points of light in his mind simultaneously.
At the same time, he had to make each point move slowly, with a trajectory that was almost imperceptible to the naked eye yet conformed to the laws of celestial motion.
It was like manipulating multiple points of light in his mind, each following a different, complex mathematical trajectory, while ensuring the integrity of the overall form they composed.
This demanded intense concentration and ceaseless calculation.
A moment's distraction would cause the movement of a single point to err, thereby disrupting the dynamic balance of the entire model, or even causing it to collapse.
That slowness did not lower the difficulty; on the contrary, because the motion was necessary and had to be sustained for a long time, it imposed an even greater mental burden.
Simulating this extremely slow motion, which was nearly static, required absolute patience, precision, and continuous modulation.
Regulus first attempted to pinpoint Betelgeuse's current position within his consciousness.
The point of light ignited, a dark red speck, slightly larger than the stars of the Belt, appearing to the upper right of the Belt.
Then came the task of imbuing it with motion.
Betelgeuse's proper motion data differed from that of the Belt stars; even its direction of movement varied slightly.
Regulus had to partition a portion of his mind specifically to calculate and maintain Betelgeuse's trajectory, while simultaneously coordinating its dynamic geometric relationship with the Belt stars.
Distance, angle, and direction were all slowly shifting with their respective movements.
When he introduced Betelgeuse's motion, the originally stable three-star model was immediately disturbed; the trajectories of the three light points fell into uncharacteristic disorder, and the entire dynamic structure teetered on the brink of collapse.
He immediately ceased, retreating to the state of maintaining only the three stars. Once restabilized, he tried again with extreme caution.
This time, he first introduced Betelgeuse as a static point, fixing its relative static position to the three stars.
Then, with agonizing slowness and subtlety, he began to infuse it with the calculated motion, simultaneously micro-adjusting the movement of the three stars to accommodate this newly introduced variable, seeking a new dynamic equilibrium.
This was a process that consumed an immense amount of mental effort and calculation.
He felt his mind stretched like a taut bowstring, a dull throbbing pulsing in his temples.
Maintaining a dynamic model of four stars drained his mental reserves far more than three; the increase in difficulty was nearly exponential.
Time slipped away in silent confrontation and adjustment.
After an indeterminate period, it felt as though an invisible gear finally clicked into place.
The dark red point of Betelgeuse was no longer a jarring appendage.
It had achieved a coordination with the movement trends of the Belt stars, and the simple quadrilateral structure formed by the four stars began to move synchronously in the void of his consciousness with a harmonious, unified rhythm.
Success.
The dynamic model of four stars was preliminarily complete.
Regulus maintained this state, carefully analyzing the changes.
The drain on his mental strength was indeed immense, but a profound sense of tranquility and a vague fullness, as if his soul were being expanded, arrived simultaneously.
After igniting the fourth star, the depth and stability of the entire meditative state seemed to have ascended a notch, and his perception of the ambient magic in his surroundings felt a fraction sharper.
He slowly withdrew from the deep meditative state and glanced at the magical timepiece on his bedside table.
From his first attempt to ignite the fourth star to achieving initial success and stabilization, the entire process had taken nearly two hours.
And this was merely the time required to add a single star atop the foundation of an already mastered three-star dynamic model.
It was foreseeable that as the number of stars included in the model increased, the dynamic relationships between them would become increasingly complex.
With every new star added and integrated into the overall dynamic system, the required time, computational power, and mental load would increase at an astonishing rate.
Yet, it was equally foreseeable that as the depth of his meditation increased, his mind, under continuous high-intensity tempering, would become increasingly resilient and vigorous, while his computational ability and spatial imagination would likewise improve.
This would, in turn, gradually accelerate the speed of igniting subsequent stars. It was an upward spiral; difficult and slow in the beginning, but accelerating later as the foundation solidified.
However, the greatest challenge lay not in igniting more stars, but in fixation.
Motion was the essence of this method, and also its greatest difficulty.
In every meditation session, he had to recalculate, reconstruct, and maintain this dynamic model; he could not simply form instinctive magical pathways as one would with a static meditation pattern.
To bring this dynamic star-trail model to a state of fixation where it operated "spontaneously, whether walking, sitting, or lying down" would be as difficult as ascending to the heavens.
Fixation usually implied something static and unchanging, yet what he was attempting to fixate was a system of eternal motion.
This required the very foundation of his mind to form an active structure capable of automatically processing complex dynamic changes and self-regulating synchronization.
The road ahead was long, but the light at the end was visible to the naked eye.
Regulus closed his eyes again, choosing not to attempt the fifth star.
The success of the four stars tonight was already a breakthrough; he needed to consolidate his gains, making the four-star dynamic model more stable and natural.
The extension of the star trails proceeded quietly, within every breath, every calculation, and every synchronization.
...
The news of Regulus crushing the fifth-year Alger Travers exploded within Slytherin, and indeed the entire pure-blood circle of Hogwarts, like cold water dropped into boiling oil.
Slytherin revered power, and equally revered the wisdom to wield it. When the two were combined and displayed in such a dramatic fashion, the shock was immense.
Overnight, Regulus's status within Slytherin underwent a subtle yet fundamental shift.
The way upper-year students looked at him no longer held the casual regard reserved for a promising junior, but rather a newfound seriousness, and even a hint of wary apprehension.
No one spoke any more foolishness. Those young pure-blood wizards who had previously kept their distance from the Black family due to political stances or the Sirius incident began to reassess this young heir.
"The Black family might truly be on the rise this time," a seventh-year whispered to his companion during breakfast.
"Think about it. The power he demonstrated, and that nonchalant attitude toward Dark Magic, that is exactly to the taste of certain people."
"What matters is strength," his companion replied seriously. "He's only a first-year, yet he treated Travers, a fifth-year, like a toy. What about when he graduates?
The Dark Lord is at the height of his power right now; if the Black family produces such a formidable figure, their future status..."
Similar conversations took place in many corners.
Pragmatism was one of the laws of survival in Slytherin; when the scales of power began to tilt visibly, adjusting one's stance and re-evaluating relationships was inevitable.
The owl post became exceptionally busy over the next few days.
Many Slytherin students, especially the upper-years with close ties to their families, wrote letters home detailing the duel and the formidable power Regulus Black had displayed, power far beyond his years.
On Thursday morning, just as Transfiguration ended, Regulus was stopped by a seventh-year student.
"Black, Professor Slughorn would like to see you in his office." The senior student's tone was polite, even carrying a trace of imperceptible ingratiation.
Regulus nodded, gathered his belongings, and headed toward the dungeons.