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The heavy oak door was pushed open with a harsh creak. Aberforth Dumbledore stepped into the threshold, his piercing blue eyes—strikingly similar to the Headmaster's despite being hidden beneath layers of unkempt, wiry hair—sweeping over the room. His gaze darted across the ceiling beams, the stone walls, and the floorboards, searching for signs of destruction.
Finding the suite in pristine condition, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He stood in silence for several tense seconds, his ragged breathing the only sound. Finally, he turned his back to leave, pausing just as he reached the corridor. He cast a final, glaring look over his shoulder.
"Don't mess around with magic in the Hog's Head Bar."
After delivering the gruff warning, he slammed the door shut, his heavy boots thudding down the wooden stairs.
Silence filled the dusty room until his footsteps faded into the ambient noise of the tavern below.
James let out a long, shaky breath and whispered, "Ha, a false alarm?"
"Maybe the tavern's native defense mechanism was triggered when the grappling hook shot into the ceiling?" Regulus mused, pocketing the spinning Sneakoscope. He turned to the adult in the room. "Alphard, is that possible?"
"Of course," Alphard said, settling back into his chair as if he had expected the question. "Many ancient magical buildings possess their own intrinsic alchemical properties, often directly linked to their nominal owners. For example, Hogwarts Castle physically obeys the current Headmaster. You can't Apparate inside the school grounds, but the Headmaster can temporarily lift the wards to allow it."
"So, to become Headmaster, do you also need the Castle's magical approval?" Severus asked, his dark eyes narrowing in thought.
"I guess so." Alphard shrugged, a hint of amusement flashing in his grey eyes. "But honestly, concerning the specifics of 'how to become the Headmaster of Hogwarts', I have no idea. If you're genuinely interested in the bureaucracy, you can ask my ancestor, the 'most unpopular Headmaster in history', in his portrait. He definitely has a lot of free time and loves to gossip."
Sirius snorted, and the others couldn't help but burst out laughing at the jab at Phineas Nigellus Black.
"Uncle Al, I wish you'd come teach at Hogwarts!" James suddenly said, leaning forward. "I heard that in recent years, the school changes its Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor almost every single year..."
The Little Wizards nodded in agreement, with Regulus nodding particularly hard.
"Speaking of which, it is quite strange." Alphard smiled, exuding his characteristic carefree air. "However, I always assumed this was Professor Dumbledore's brilliant management strategy. Seven different Professors over seven years certainly have an academic advantage over one static Professor, don't they?"
Eh? Regulus's eyes lit up, his gamer mind spinning.
Don't tell me... it actually makes tactical sense. The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professors he had encountered in his past two years indeed each possessed their own unique combat characteristics and survival skills, and none had been incompetent.
Could this really be Headmaster Dumbledore's new teaching philosophy, adapting to Voldemort's curse and operating on a 4D-chess level?
Regulus was successfully amused by his own corporate analysis.
Seeing that the Little Wizards were deeply interested in the lore, Al stayed a little longer, utilizing the remaining Butterbeer to teach them some fundamental concepts of magical alchemical architecture and warding.
"I only know the basics myself, but I heard that the Weasley Family seemed to be quite good at novel magical architecture at one point in history."
...
"It's getting late," Alphard said with a warm smile, dusting off his robes as he stood up. "Ethan is still waiting for my news. He's currently helping me tinker with Muggle motorcycles."
"The Frye Family owns a lot of motorcycles?" Remus asked, his amber eyes curious.
"Very many." Alphard's expression turned serious, shedding the fun-uncle persona for a moment. "I only recently discovered that the consolidated wealth of 'elite families' among Muggles, accumulated over generations of industry, is far beyond my wildest imagination."
Regulus nodded in deep agreement.
Yes, compared to the immensely wealthy Muggle syndicates and royalty, the notorious Black Family vault was probably insignificant.
Just look at the Queen's property in London. Regent Street was worth its weight in solid gold, and it all belonged to the "Crown Estate", which even owned more than half of the United Kingdom's physical coastline. And all of this belonged to a single reigning monarch.
However, Muggles also played high-stakes political games, and few were as continuously successful as the British royal family. Not to mention those who ended up on the guillotine. Germany's House of Hohenzollern was still suing the government for ancestral property half a century after losing power.
History draws violent circles upon circles; who can truly make sense of it all?
"Uncle Al... one last question." Regulus stood up, his voice dropping to a serious whisper. "Do you know how to block the Trace on an underage wand?"
Alphard's gaze fell heavily on his nephew. His grey eyes flashed in the candlelight, silently scrutinizing the boy. Surprise was also written clearly on the faces of the other Little Wizards, who stared at Regulus.
Just as Regulus braced himself, thinking Uncle Al would demand his reasons for wanting to bypass Ministry law, the older wizard simply shrugged.
"I don't know much about the specific charm matrix, but I'll look it up in the family library when I get back."
"Thank you, Alphard!"
Hehe.
His mother's brother was truly the best kind of family. This uncle was willing to cover his nephew's eating, drinking, equipping, and tactical law-breaking without a second thought.
... ...
No sooner said than done.
That very night, Regulus, buzzing with the adrenaline of acquiring the Assassin's Creed gauntlet, waited until his dorm mates were asleep. He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, slipped out the window, and swung his rope dart to climb all over the dark, freezing exterior of Hogwarts Castle.
The biting Scottish wind whipped at his cloak as he scaled the ancient stones. The rope gun and the Castle architecture were simply a flawless, mechanical match.
He was wrong before. Who needs Hogwarts Legacy? This incredible feeling of being a medieval Hogwarts Spider-Man—besides AC, what other franchise could provide this vertical freedom?
Riding the high, he also sneaked deep into the Forbidden Forest under the cover of the waning moon. His hidden blade flashed silver in the dark as he dropped from the canopy, smoothly "farming" a few stray, dim-witted Acromantulas. He carefully extracted several crystal vials of fresh venom to bring back for Severus.
Rare potion ingredients. The Slytherin Heads of House—present and future—all love them.
The next morning, just after a hearty breakfast of porridge and toast, the impatient Hog Gang Little Wizards gathered secretly in the empty Duelling Club classroom. Dust motes danced in the pale shafts of morning sunlight piercing the tall windows.
Regulus demonstrated in detail how to properly wear the gauntlet. He explained the internal activation process and the specific muscle traction techniques he had summarized through trial and error.
"Be sure to pay strict attention to the angle of your wrist! This blade is incredibly sharp," he emphasized again, showing them the steel edge.
Finally, he proposed his working theory.
"I think this 'magical' equipment might possess a rudimentary ability to choose its wielder, much like wands choose Wizards. It's definitely worth a try."
Evie, the leader of the Frye Family twins, was naturally the first to step forward. She strapped the heavy leather onto her forearm with a focused, clinical expression. She mimicked Regulus's arm movements flawlessly, flexing her wrist, but the hidden blade didn't react at all.
She frowned in frustration, adjusting the straps, and tried again and again. Still no reaction. The mechanism remained dead.
"When I wore it, I also tried many micro-movements before I found the right trigger feeling," Regulus comforted her, omitting the fact that it had only taken him a few seconds to sync.
"Ah... I feel like there's a slight reaction deep inside, but then again, maybe not," Jacob said, shaking his head with a sigh after strapping it on and failing to deploy the rope dart.
Finally, even Lily tried it on out of sheer curiosity, but the heavy metal remained inert on her arm.
"Maybe it's not about bloodline magic at all," Sirius said, leaning against a desk. He looked at his younger brother, his expression half-serious, half-amused. "Perhaps, Regulus's fundamental compatibility is simply too high."
"What compatibility?" Remus asked, tilting his head.
"That makes perfect sense," Severus nodded at Sirius, crossing his arms. He turned to the group and continued his analysis. "Regulus is the strongest combat Wizard among us."
Regulus stood by the window and smiled softly. There was no tactical need to be falsely modest here.
"And, Regulus's physical reaction ability is unparalleled," Severus added, his dark eyes intense. "You've all seen him duel in the Great Hall. I dare say, even the seasoned older students wouldn't have a kinetic advantage against him in a real fight."
"I understand," Remus interjected, realization dawning. "You mean—because Regulus possesses these lethal combat qualities, that's why he was 'recognized' by the weapon's enchantment?"
The Little Wizards' divergent, logical thinking left Regulus momentarily unsure how to respond.
In fact, he didn't know the mechanical answer either.
It couldn't possibly be because my soul possesses the 'Isu bloodline' from transmigration, could it?
╮(╯▽╰)╭
Probably not. If I really did, genetic logic dictates that Sirius should possess it too.
Evie had been staring blankly at the stone floor while they debated. Suddenly, she slowly blinked her sharp blue eyes, and a bright, dangerous light shone in her gaze.
"That makes sense," she nodded seriously, looking at her bare hands. "Since these gloves are historically called 'Assassin's Creed gloves', then of course the artifact would require the wielder to possess true 'assassin' qualities..."
Evie pursed her lips. Her clear blue eyes darted around the dusty classroom before locking intensely onto Regulus.
"Regulus, do you think Jacob and I can train to be like you?"