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"He specifically said to be careful of Lestrange recently," Severus muttered, keeping his voice low as they stood in a quiet corner of the dungeons. "Mulciber bragged that Lestrange got his hands on some really powerful dark equipment. He also said he'd 'show me some color' soon."
The morning after the extravagant Prefects' Bathroom spa party, Severus relayed Avery's anxious warnings to Regulus exactly as he had heard them.
"Of course," Severus added, a faint, cynical smirk touching his pale lips, "Alan practically begged me not to tell anyone he was the one who spilled the secret."
Regulus narrowed his dark eyes, a thoughtful, calculating expression settling over his aristocratic features.
This Avery... logically, he should be a loyal, future Death Eater. Why is he already starting to actively undermine the young Lestrange? Tsk tsk. It seems the organizational management and internal loyalty on the Death Eater side aren't quite up to standard. They are already factionalizing.
In the corporate world of syndicates, a fractured enemy board was always a good thing.
After a moment of silence, Regulus nodded seriously at his friend and reached deep into his robe pocket.
Severus watched curiously as Regulus first pulled out a small, wrinkled brown object that looked distinctly like a dried animal kidney.
"Hold this," Regulus said, placing the rough object into Severus's palm with a reassuring smile. "You must know what this is. If you ever suspect you've been poisoned, don't hesitate—just stuff a piece of this straight down your throat."
"A Bezoar!" Severus gasped, his dark eyes widening in genuine shock. As expected of the Black Family heir, he casually carried a universal antidote in his pocket. "This is incredibly rare and expensive!"
"Take it. In our line of work, it might be useful." Before Severus could protest, Regulus closed his friend's fingers around the stone.
"Thank you..." Severus murmured, quickly and carefully securing the Bezoar in his inner pocket.
But Regulus wasn't finished.
He reached into his pocket again and produced two shimmering silver metal rings—one large enough for a finger, the other much smaller. They were elegantly crafted, catching the dim dungeon light.
"Take these too. They're little alchemical gadgets our group tinkered with recently," Regulus explained, laying the interlocking rings on his palm. "Slide the smaller one onto the base of your wand, and wear the larger one on your finger. Through spatial magic tracking, as long as your wand is separated from you by a distance greater than seven feet, the ring on your finger will immediately trigger a piercing alarm."
"An anti-theft alarm? That's brilliant!" Severus blinked, immediately recognizing the tactical value. With these, he would never have to worry about an enemy disarming him in his sleep or picking his pocket in the crowded corridors.
"Thanks, Regulus!" Severus's face lit up, eager to test the craftsmanship. "Can I try it now?"
"Not in here," Regulus chuckled. "You'd better test it outside on the grounds. The alarm is as loud as a Howler. Also, if you need to manually turn off the siren, just twist the outer band of the ring like this..."
"Got it." Severus immediately slid the silver band onto his index finger and secured the smaller ring onto the polished wood of his wand.
"You need to be vigilant, Severus," Regulus said, patting him firmly on the shoulder.
"I will," Severus replied, a deep warmth settling in his chest at the display of loyalty. He frowned slightly, looking down at his boots. "But I still don't quite understand. How exactly did I offend Lestrange to the point of premeditated retaliation?"
Did he somehow find out I used a Cutting Charm to slice his robes open during the trophy room fight? Severus wondered silently.
"Who knows the minds of fools?" Regulus shrugged casually. "Maybe your recent academic success stimulated his fragile self-esteem." He smiled knowingly. "Sometimes, simply being too outstanding makes mediocre people despise you."
Severus nodded in deep agreement.
...
The Prefects' Bathroom spa party had successfully warmed the cold, gloomy heart of winter for the HP syndicate.
While the Little Wizards remained highly vigilant against Slytherin retaliation, they went about their daily studies and routines as usual. Regulus continued his quiet, systemic task of interacting with stray cats across the castle grounds, searching for the elusive "Cat Guardian" breakthrough, but the key objective remained stubbornly hidden.
A peaceful January passed in the blink of an eye, and the biting winds of February 1974 arrived as scheduled.
Late one night, Mary Macdonald hummed a soft, cheerful tune, her steps light against the stone floors as she made her way back to the Gryffindor tower. She had stayed a little longer than usual in the Magical Weaving Club's activity room.
Valentine's Day was fast approaching, and she still hadn't quite mastered using her wand to manipulate the knitting needles and thread into the complex patterns she desired. She needed to put in the extra hours.
She was determined to knit a thick, warm scarf featuring gold and red stripes and a roaring lion emblem.
As for who the recipient was?
Naturally, it was for Sirius Black, undeniably the most handsome boy in the school in her eyes. Countless girls at Hogwarts harbored a crush on the rebellious pureblood, and Mary was certainly no exception.
In truth, she never genuinely expected to have any real, romantic interaction with Sirius. The social and bloodline distance between them felt like the vast void of space between the Earth and the actual star Sirius. As a mere classmate to this shining, aristocratic heir, she was already content simply being in his orbit, looking up at him occasionally.
Mary knew most girls at Hogwarts felt the same way. The two stars from the Noble House of Black possessed an intimidating aristocratic aura that naturally created an invisible barrier between them and ordinary Muggle-born girls like herself.
In her romantic heart, the only person truly worthy of standing beside Sirius was her best friend—Lily Evans.
Lily was brilliant, breathtakingly beautiful, lively, and kind. She had a fiery but excellent personality, had been receiving a steady stream of love letters since her first year, and was the undisputed top student in her cohort. She was practically a heroine plucked straight from a Jane Austen novel.
With such a flawless persona, wasn't she the perfect narrative match for a handsome, brooding aristocratic young man like Sirius?
Sometimes during the duller classes, Mary would mentally plot out romantic novel scenarios for Lily and Sirius. If they simply exchanged a brief word or made eye contact across the room, she could internally fangirl for an entire hour.
Unfortunately, Lily remained completely immune to Sirius's charms. Mary could hardly believe her ears the first time Lily confessed her disinterest.
"Then what kind of boy do you actually like, Lily?" Mary had asked, baffled.
"Hmm... I think I prefer someone simpler. Someone happier," Lily had replied thoughtfully, a hint of uncertainty in her green eyes. "Sirius? He's too intense. It always feels like he keeps a lot of dark things hidden deep inside."
Well, even despite Lily's protests, Mary stubbornly shipped the pair.
Oh, and the male god's younger brother was also a male god. Mary suddenly recalled Regulus's gentle, steady demeanor when he elegantly used his wand to hand out the warm towels to the girls at the spa party.
Ah, both brothers are beautiful and powerful—I want to ship him with someone too! It's a pity there is only one Lily to go around...
Who else in the school could possibly be paired with the calculating young Black?
Mary turned a corner, leaving the moonlit hall and entering a dark, gloomy, and narrow corridor. It was getting late, the curfew approaching, and she planned to take a familiar shortcut behind a tapestry to save time.
The quiet corridor was unsettlingly empty. The shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally across the walls. A sudden chill raised the hairs on her arms, prompting her to grip her wand tightly and quicken her pace.
Hmm... Evie Frye is a good match, Mary thought, trying to distract herself from the dark. She's so fierce and cute at such a young age. She's practically a wealthy Muggle princess, living in that massive palace of an estate. I've only ever seen such luxurious living in the cinema.
And now, she, an ordinary Muggle-born, had actually joined HP with these extraordinary people. She was an official member of the coolest, most secretive organization at Hogwarts. A proud smile touched the corner of Mary's mouth.
This year, she was determined to earn an 'Outstanding' in both Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts so she could officially qualify to join the Dueling Club next term.
She clenched her fist around her wand, making a silent, fierce vow in her heart.
Just one more corner, and she would emerge into the brighter, warmer main corridor leading to the Fat Lady's portrait.
"Meow!"
A sudden yowl pierced the silence. Filch's scrawny cat, Church, darted out from the shadows beneath a suit of armor, issuing a harsh, warning meow directly at her. His large, bulbous golden eyes shone with an eerie brightness in the dark.
"Why are you hiding down here?" Mary gasped, startled. She clutched a hand to her racing heart, forcing out a soothing smile. She took a step forward, intending to pet the usually hostile creature.
"Meow!" Church refused to back down. His voice grew more urgent, distressed. He arched his bony back, the fur along his spine standing on end as he hissed at the empty space behind her.
Mary's steps froze. She looked at the hissing animal in confusion for a fraction of a second.
What's wrong with him? He looks terrified.
If Lily were here, what would she do?
Thinking of her brave, quick-witted friend, a flash of survival instinct hit Mary. She immediately drew her wand, raised it in a defensive posture, and backed up until her shoulders hit the cold stone wall. She frantically scanned her surroundings.
By the weak, filtering moonlight and the flickering orange glow from a distant torch, she saw something wet and shimmering on the stone wall directly opposite her.
Mary narrowed her eyes, squinting through the gloom to distinguish the shapes. It was a line of jagged, crooked writing, smeared thickly across the stone at eye level. The substance looked dark and metallic.
"Mudblood, you're next!"
Mary's pupils contracted in sheer horror. Her breath hitched in her throat.
"MEOW!" The cat suddenly let out a piercing, mournful shriek.
At the exact same moment, the corner of Mary's eye caught a sudden, blinding reflection of light bouncing off the stone wall.
It was the flash of a spell being cast directly from the shadows behind her!
A Gryffindor's physical reflexes were always faster than their rational brain. Mary instantly threw her weight to the side, desperately dodging as she scrambled forward, opening her mouth to scream for help.
But she wasn't fast enough.
A heavy, unnatural numbness slammed into her lower back, sending a violent shockwave up her spine. The scream died in her throat, her vocal cords magically paralyzed. She couldn't make a single sound.
Her scalp tightened in terror. Her legs kept moving out of sheer momentum, but without motor control, her foot caught hard on an unseen tripwire stretched across the corridor.
Oh no—
The ground rushed up to meet her, and she fell heavily onto the cold stone floor.
...
...
High up in the Gryffindor Tower, Professor McGonagall sat behind her neat desk, grading a towering stack of student homework by the warm light of the fireplace. Tonight, as usual, the dedicated Head of House was working late into the quiet hours.
"Preliminary Thoughts on the Application of Calculus in Transfiguration."
After reading the final paragraph of the brilliant, highly complex parchment resting in front of her, a rare, genuine smile softened Professor McGonagall's usually tightly pursed lips.
The young Regulus Black had already begun to freely request and master advanced, university-level Transfiguration theories far beyond his year.
What an incredibly promising, brilliant young man, she mused proudly, dipping her quill into red ink. No wonder Albus favors him so deeply.
"Meow!"
Just as she was writing the grading mark, a frantic, desperate meow, accompanied by the frantic sound of claws violently scratching at the heavy wood of her office door, shattered the peace of the room.
Professor McGonagall looked up, her expression shifting instantly to one of sharp concern.
Chapter 73: The Fourteenth Cat
Shoot the arrow first, then draw the target. I define success.
Deciding what success is for yourself is true confidence!
—"How Wizards Achieve Success: Draft"by Regulus Black
...
The corporate desire to absolutely always win is a beautiful motivation, but harsh reality always calls cut when you least expect it—
[Cat's Guardian, Task Progress: 13/14]
Regulus could only reluctantly, bitterly admit the sour taste of success defined by others—
It was truly an unpleasant feeling.
...
That night, deep within the hidden Room of Requirement.
The Hogwarts HP Alchemy Group was gathered as usual around the heavy oak tables. Only James was missing, having sent word that he might arrive later due to a brutal Quidditch practice under the freezing rain.
The entire night, Regulus had been intensely flipping through a thick, leather-bound ancient tome containing highly complex descriptions of various alchemical crystals. He was actively hunting for the specific direction of the obscure research assignment Dumbledore had recently given him—
The magical conduction of light and the deliberate distortion of magic fields.
Regulus had immediately liked this dangerous topic and even logically wondered if Headmaster Dumbledore was subtly hinting at a specific, lethal threat lurking in the castle.
The tactical reason was simple—
The Basilisk.
Not to mention he had quietly always harbored the insane, gamer-like thought of attempting to solo the Basilisk for the loot drop. Who wouldn't be deeply attracted by the complex magical principle behind the Basilisk's lethal stare?
It is universally known that direct exposure to the Basilisk's gaze causes instant death. But if only indirectly exposed to its eyes, the victim is only petrified. For example, Colin Creevey seeing it through a camera lens, Hermione Granger seeing it through a mirror reflection, etc...
It can also be logically inferred that the Basilisk's gaze actively requires the victim's own eyes to participate in the magical connection—the Basilisk must have physically seen Harry Potter's back when violently chasing him through the Chamber, but the Potter boy remained safe and sound.
Exactly how is the lethal magic transmitted through the optic nerve? Is there an alchemical way to permanently block it?
Regulus turned to the next fragile page:
"Magic Eye Crystal: An extremely rare alchemical material, bright blue in color, traditionally used to create the legendary alchemical magic eye. Origin is highly unknown, but rumored to be violently mined in Africa's 'Mountain of Brilliant Light'."
Is that the material used for Mad-Eye Moody's magic eye? Regulus pondered. The Mountain of Brilliant Light—could it geographically refer to Mount Kilimanjaro?
He continued scanning to the next entry—
"Cat's Eye Crystal: Masterfully made transparent from raw cat's eye stone. Available in various colors, it naturally possesses the magic to foretell and react to evil intent, mostly produced in the mines of Sri Lanka."
Cat's eye, cat's eye... Regulus suddenly zoned out, his mind drifting back to his frustrating system notification. He let out a long, heavy breath, his aristocratic tone containing a highly rare hint of CEO self-doubt:
"Sirius, Remus. Do you guys honestly think... Professor McGonagall actually approves of me?"
Regulus rubbed his nose, leaning back in his chair. He confidently considered himself highly likable and politically savvy, but he also knew his own flaws well—
After all, he, Regulus Black, wasn't a shiny golden Galleon. He couldn't force everyone to love him.
"Is that honestly even a real question?" Sirius raised an arrogant eyebrow, looking genuinely puzzled by his brother's insecurity, his tone absolute. "Absolutely, she does."
Remus warmly nodded beside him, adding logically, "Professor McGonagall has officially awarded you vastly more house points this term than even Professor Slughorn has... If that's not pure academic approval, then absolutely nothing is."
Regulus smiled and nodded—well, mathematically speaking, he thought so too.
So it logically seemed the elusive fourteenth cat required for the system task shouldn't be Professor McGonagall's Animagus form.
Besides, with the veteran Professor's terrifying combat abilities, where would she ever physically need him to protect her to earn that approval?
Regulus thought deeply, pulling out an exquisite, polished chain charm from his inner pocket. The round alchemical alloy was beautifully engraved with a simple, stylized cat head and the bold capital letter H representing Hogwarts.
This was the highly exclusive, Hogwarts-specific 'Cat Tag' passionately and painstakingly developed by their HP alchemy group over the winter break. It was flawlessly functional and aesthetically pleasing, capable of automatically projecting a shield to withstand exactly one minor dark curse.
As of tonight, with the invaluable logistical help of Evie Frye's stealth tracking and Church's feline diplomacy, Regulus had successfully distributed exactly thirteen Cat Tags to the strays around the castle grounds.
Now he only had this absolute last one left.
He methodically planned to try his luck deep in the fringes of the Forbidden Forest tomorrow. Perhaps there were still some feral cats out there that Church simply didn't politically know about.
The system remained stubbornly silent, just blindly issuing tasks. It clearly looked exactly like something a third-rate, lazy game designer had coded in his spare time...
Regulus silently grumbled in his corporate heart.
Just then, the three Little Wizards simultaneously felt the enchanted Revealer Paper worn close to their bodies grow suddenly, violently hot. They reached into their pockets in unison—
[Guys: Mary isn't back from the Magical Weaving Club yet. Lily is getting a bit worried about her. Can you help keep an eye out in the corridors? — JP, Gryffindor Common Room]
"It's getting quite late..." Remus noted, his amber eyes glancing at the magical clock that had suddenly appeared on the Room of Requirement's wall. "We should probably head back before curfew. Let's take a quick tactical sweep on the way."
"Agreed. Let's go."
...
Meanwhile, deep down in the freezing Slytherin dungeons, Severus, who was just about to comfortably change into his new pajamas, suddenly felt a violent vibration against his chest. He grabbed his wand, his face paling, and ran straight out the heavy oak door.
"Severus?!" Avery called out in confusion.
Severus didn't even turn back, his dark robes billowing behind him as he shouted, "I'm going out for a bit!"
...
Pale moonlight shone weakly through the small grated window high on the stone wall, casting a distorted rectangular outline on the opposite wall and making the flickering orange flames of the wall-mounted torch appear even dimmer.
Mary, silenced and numb, tripped hard over the transparent tripwire stretched across the ground. She lost her balance completely and fell heavily onto the cold, unforgiving stone floor. Her knees and elbows immediately flared with blinding, sharp pain, and she almost dropped her wand from the impact.
The sheer pain brought hot tears to her eyes. She blinked quickly, fighting the panic, gripped her wand tightly, and desperately tried to calm her racing heart.
Only her ragged, silent gasping could be heard in her own head, making the surrounding, suffocating silence of the corridor feel even more terrifying.
Mary felt her peripheral vision going dark, her throat bone-dry. She endured the agonizing pain in her joints and stubbornly struggled to crawl a few pathetic steps towards the safety of the wall.
Time seemed to stand agonizingly still. She felt every microscopic movement she made was unbearably, frustratingly slow.
The unseen enemy hiding in the dark shadows could lethally cast another curse at absolutely any moment. But right now, paralyzed by the previous hex, she physically couldn't cast defensive spells. Her hands were too weak and numb to properly obey her commands, yet the smooth wood of the wand in her hand felt like her absolute only lifeline.
"Meow!" The small stray cat standing bravely in front of her yowled again, arching its back.
Another violent flash of red light flew directly towards her from the deep shadows. Mary, pinned to the floor, had absolutely nowhere left to dodge.
Just then, the tiny cat that had alerted her earlier suddenly leaped up. Moving at a speed almost invisible to the naked eye, its mouth open in a fierce hiss, fur bristling, it transformed into a fearless ball of angry fluff, actively pouncing directly into the path of the lethal red curse.
The lethal light of the curse and the tiny cat seemed to violently intersect in mid-air in slow motion.
Mary's weak hand, desperately trying to reach out and stop the animal, was suspended in mid-air. The thick silver ring on her index finger reflected a faint spark of moonlight—
Right—
Regulus's tactical alarm ring!
The Gryffindor witch's survival instincts bypassed her paralyzed muscles. Summoning the last dregs of her adrenaline, she simply threw her wand forward down the corridor with all her might!
Her heart pounded fiercely against her ribs, and large, terrified tears streamed uncontrollably from her green eyes.
With a sickening 'bang', the small cat crashed directly into the incoming red light. Mary couldn't help but let out a silent, agonizing sob of despair.
However, a brilliant, blinding blue arc of light simultaneously exploded outwards from the cat's chest. That protective blue shield violently collided with the red light of the curse, emitting a deafening crack and a dazzling, blinding purple glow!
The cat's small body was physically pushed backward by the kinetic shockwave. Mary reflexively extended her numb arms, and the stunned cat landed safely right in her embrace. She immediately, fiercely turned sideways, curling her body to place the vulnerable animal entirely under the physical protection of her own back.
Everything happened far too quickly. At the exact same moment her wand clattered against the stone floor, crossing the seven-foot threshold—
"AHHHHHRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!"
"PEEEEVES!!!!!!!!"
A deafening, ear-splitting siren began to violently erupt in the confined corridor, echoing like a banshee's magical scream piercing directly into the brain. Mary ignored her own bleeding knees and quickly, tightly covered the cat's sensitive ears.
In an absolute instant, half the sleeping Castle was violently awakened.
The very next second, the magically summoned Poltergeist Peeves went straight through the solid stone walls and magical barriers, taking the absolute most direct route possible and being the very first entity to arrive at the chaotic scene.
Seeing Mary slumped pathetically against the wall corner, bravely holding the cat, he immediately, gleefully began his chaotic improvisation—
"Little Gryffindor imp, muddle-headed Little Mary, Howler sent to Hogwarts, summoning little Peeves in the middle of the night..."
"Students are all wicked, Peeves needs to find Filch and bite..."
Hearing Peeves's usually terrible, mocking song, Mary was almost crying with sheer, unadulterated joy. She had absolutely never imagined she would actually be so happy to see the Poltergeist.
...
On one side of the corridor, Church was violently sprinting towards them, aggressively leading a stern-looking tabby cat with distinct, square markings around its eyes that looked exactly like spectacles.
On the exact opposite side, Regulus, Sirius, Remus, Severus, James, and Lily were also violently rushing over from different directions, their wands drawn and glowing.
Also sprinting down the stairs were a panting Filch and a highly nimble Professor Flitwick...
Regulus was the absolute first human to arrive at the scene right after Peeves. His system-enhanced physical movement speed was simply too fast; he had long left Sirius and the others in the dust.
His sharp Eagle Vision saw absolutely everything clearly from a distance: the drying, metallic writing on the wall, the taut tripwire stretched across the ground—and Mary, missing her wand, tightly hugging the shivering cat, her eyes full of terrified tears, leaning heavily against the cold wall and gasping for breath.
"Mary!"
Hearing the highly familiar, aristocratic voice, Mary turned back sharply.
"Regulus!" She desperately opened her mouth but still couldn't make a sound through the Silencing Charm. Her legs were trembling wildly, and she couldn't quite gather the strength to stand up.
The Little Witch watched the Black Family's young prince approach her without blinking, his hawthorn wand already moving in a precise arc.
"I'm here. You don't need to be afraid anymore." Regulus squatted down gracefully, his calm, calculating grey eyes seemingly possessing a kind of deeply reassuring magic.
Tears of absolute relief no longer needed to be held back. Mary pointed frantically to the shivering cat in her arms, then desperately pointed to her own paralyzed throat.
"Finite Incantatem," Regulus said softly, waving his wand.
The numbness vanished. "Regulus! Quickly, look at this cat!" Mary immediately gasped, her voice hoarse and anxious. "It was attacked by a red light curse trying to protect me!"
"It's okay. Leave it to me," he said concisely, switching into CEO crisis-management mode.
Behind Regulus, Sirius and Remus finally appeared, panting heavily. While at the other end of the hall, Church and the spectacle-marked tabby cat Regulus hadn't seen before arrived together.
The elusive fourteenth cat?
"Drink this." Entirely without even thinking about his system task, Regulus quickly pulled out a potent vial of Vitality Tonic from his pendant and handed it to Mary.
Next, he gently took the weak, shivering little cat from her arms. It thankfully hadn't suffered a fatal magical injury; it was likely just stunned by the sheer kinetic impact of the blocked curse. The silver Cat Tag hanging around its furry neck had absorbed the blow, its alloy surface now covered in deep, jagged cracks.
What an incredibly brave and fiercely kind cat!
Regulus gently, affectionately stroked the little cat's head, warming it. He quickly wrapped it securely in a soft wool blanket he seamlessly conjured with Transfiguration, and took out the pristine, final Cat Tag from his pocket. With utmost solemnity, he tied it securely around the little hero's neck.
The little cat meowed a few times, its voice soft and lovely, rubbing its head against his palm. Regulus couldn't help but smile warmly.
The spectacle-marked tabby cat sitting next to Church watched all of this unfold without blinking its sharp, intelligent eyes—
[DING!]
[Task 'Cat's Guardian' Completed]
[Stealth Skill Upgraded: Now Effective on Non-Human Creatures and Magical Beasts]
Huh?
Regulus sharply turned his head to look directly at Church's side—
The stern fourteenth cat sitting in front of Regulus suddenly, seamlessly transformed under his highly stunned gaze into a tall, formidable Witch in green plaid robes, a look of profound, undeniable approval appearing on her usually stern face.
Only then did it mathematically click in Regulus's gamer brain. This was the absolute first time he had personally, physically seen Professor McGonagall's Animagus form.
The heavily panting Filch, the unusually nimble Professor Flitwick, Lily, James, and the others finally arrived at the chaotic scene, wands raised.
Under absolutely everyone's highly confused gaze, Regulus suddenly zoned out, staring at the Transfiguration Professor.
So that's exactly it—
So, tactically getting Professor McGonagall's genuine approval while she was specifically in her feline Animagus form was exactly what the system counted as the final target...
...
He was utterly, completely defeated by this broken system's third-rate, literal-minded game design.