Harry Potter: Reborn as Regulus Black

Chapter 276: False Emotions Prying Open True Desire [bonus]

Three days before the holiday.

Predawn.

Regulus touched down with the Flight Spell on the clearing beside Hagrid’s hut.

A few steps toward the forest, and he Apparated.

This time he didn’t spread his magical perception wide.

Normally he let it expand on its own, an extra layer of sight running passively, picking up whatever stirred nearby without conscious effort.

But tonight he’d pulled it in, holding it to a ten-meter radius.

The images from last time were still sealed in his head. He didn’t want new ones.

He couldn’t retract it entirely either. The Forbidden Forest at night was no place for blind spots. Ten meters was enough. Anything approaching would give him time to react.

He landed on the flat rock at the edge of the hollow.

The instant his foot touched down, the web trembled. The vibration raced along the silk toward the nest, faster than sound.

Regulus knew Baruk would feel it.

Spiders perceived the world differently from humans. Light and scent were secondary. Vibrations through silk were the primary channel.

What had landed on which strand, from what direction, how heavy, prey or kin, they knew the moment it touched down.

Baruk was an intelligent spider. Identifying a visitor by web vibration wasn’t difficult for him.

He didn’t wait long. A shadow shifted at the mouth of the nest.

Baruk crawled out.

Behind him, he was dragging a line of things.

Silk-wrapped cocoons, large and small, strung one after another, hooked by his hind legs and hauled forward.

At the front were several Gnomes. The small creatures were still moving, bodies arching inside the webbing.

Behind them, a rabbit, grey, wrapped so tight only the ears poked out. The ears were shaking.

After that, a bird of some species he couldn’t identify in the dark. Its beak was bound shut. No sound.

The last one was the largest.

A Centaur.

The horse body was cocooned from belly to hooves, only the tip of the tail exposed, flicking uselessly.

The human torso remained unwrapped, but both arms were bound behind its back, and several layers of silk sealed its mouth shut.

The Centaur was still struggling. The torso twisted side to side. The bound legs kicked against the ground, scoring grooves in the earth.

Fury was plain on its face: brow knotted, eyes glaring straight ahead, nostrils flaring with each heavy breath.

Regulus glanced over and moved on.

Baruk hauled the whole procession to his feet and stopped.

Chelicerae clicked twice, a rapid burst, then all eight legs curled inward as the body lowered, bringing the shell to Regulus’s hand height.

Regulus reached out and gave it a pat. The carapace was hard, cool, damp with the night air.

A slight vibration ran through the shell, the way a cat twitches when you scratch beneath its chin. It passed quickly.

Baruk turned, pointing a foreleg at the cocoons behind him.

A flurry of clicks, chelicerae working, forelegs gesturing in the air, followed by a string of meaningless syllables.

Then, haltingly, a few words: "I... caught..."

Two more clicks. "Waiting... you... come..."

Regulus looked at the spider, then at the line of cocoons.

Gnomes, rabbit, bird, centaur. Tightly wrapped, all still alive.

The spider had caught them on his own, held them, and waited.

Offering them as test subjects.

Regulus found that interesting.

Acromantulas were colony creatures. Their logic placed the group above the individual, with Aragog at the apex and every offspring below.

No complex hierarchy. Whoever was strongest claimed more resources: prey, territory, mates.

Survival of the fittest, plain and blunt.

But Baruk’s behavior showed individual awareness. He knew he was different from the rest. He was pursuing something for himself.

For an Acromantula, that kind of consciousness was an anomaly.

Maybe because he was Aragog’s most intelligent offspring. Maybe because the Light Source Magic experiment had left something behind in his spider brain after that flash.

Or maybe something else entirely.

Regulus didn’t care about the cause. He liked seeing the change.

A stronger Baruk was useful, of course. But an individual extracting itself from the colony framework was what fascinated him.

"Good preparation."

A single sharp click from Baruk’s chelicerae.

Then he began circling Regulus, eight legs cycling, fast enough to read the mood clearly.

Happy.

Regulus watched him complete a lap. "You can observe the experiment first. It might be dangerous."

Baruk stopped. All eight eyes locked onto him. chelicerae spread wider. Forelegs drummed the ground twice.

Excitement.

Regulus crouched and extended a finger toward the nearest Gnome.

The Decomposition Curse had adjustable intensity. The lowest setting induced nausea and discomfort, a mild oscillation in the target’s magical structure without collapse.

One notch higher was the intermediate setting he’d designed. In theory, it would loosen a magical creature’s structure locally without killing it.

He set it to intermediate.

Grey-green light flashed from his fingertip and struck the Gnome.

There was almost no process.

The Gnome came apart from the outside in, faster than a blink.

Skin first. Then tissue, muscle, bone, organs. Nothing remained but a small pinch of ash on the silk, already scattering in the night breeze.

Baruk’s hind legs scrambled backward. All eight eyes blew wide. chelicerae gaped to their limit, and a single shrill click tore out.

Fear.

The Gnome had left nothing behind. No struggle, no sound, just gone.

Baruk kept calling out, a high staccato chittering, eight legs shuffling as though he wanted to bolt but couldn’t pick a direction.

Regulus lowered his hand, eyes on the ash. He ignored Baruk’s reaction.

That had been the theoretical minimum. Any lower and the magical structure wouldn’t open at all.

The Gnome couldn’t take it. Probably because its magical level was too low, its structure too fragile.

The intermediate setting was, for a Gnome, indistinguishable from lethal. Its magical structure couldn’t withstand that force and collapsed outright.

He wasn’t sure Baruk could withstand it either.

He’d never tested this setting on a living creature before. Now he had, and the result was failure, at least for Gnomes.

Maybe the Decomposition Curse had no middle ground. Either mild discomfort or instant death.

Dodge it or block it, but once it connected, those were the only two outcomes.

Then again, maybe not. If the target was strong enough, its magical structure robust enough, the intermediate setting might hold.

But specimens at that level weren’t easy to come by. The Forbidden Forest had them, certainly. He didn’t feel like going to the trouble of catching one.

He looked at the rest of Baruk’s haul.

The rabbit and bird weren’t worth discussing. Weaker than Gnomes.

The Centaur, though...

Regulus glanced at the Centaur.

Wrapped in silk, the human torso had twisted toward him, glaring. Rage in those eyes, and something else.

Hatred. Close enough.

The mouth was bound, but the eyes said it plainly: You wizards. Not a decent one among you.

Regulus looked away, unbothered. Trussed up like that and still finding the energy to glare.

Being killed by the Decomposition Curse would at least be quick. Failing to qualify as a test subject meant getting eaten by spiders instead.

Baruk was still panicking. The clicking had slowed, but all eight legs still trembled. He backed up, stopped, wanted to approach the ash, didn’t dare.

Regulus waited.

Baruk went still. He stared at the ash, chelicerae locked shut, eight legs planted, body frozen.

A long moment passed before he spoke. "Centaur... try..."

Regulus shook his head. "No. You’re not the same."

Agitation. The clicking accelerated, legs shuffled, forelegs hammered the ground in a rapid staccato.

Baruk spun around, aimed his spinnerets at the Centaur, and sprayed another layer of silk from chest to knees.

The Centaur grunted, body jerked back by the adhesion. The glare intensified.

Baruk ignored him, turned back, chelicerae working. "Other... spiders... experiment... after... me..."

He crawled to Regulus, eight legs folding slowly, lowering himself until his topmost pair of eyes were level with Regulus’s own.

No readable emotion there. Chelicerae closed. Forelegs tucked against the body. Perfectly still.

Regulus looked at him.

The spider was saying to use other Acromantulas first. Once it worked, do it to him.

He didn’t care about his own kind. He was willing to spend his kin as test subjects to buy himself a chance at getting stronger.

Regulus found it fascinating. This spider’s mind was sharper than he’d given it credit for.

Baruk’s logic held no colony morality, only the drive to grow stronger. In a way, Baruk was a purer individual than most people Regulus had ever known.

That flash of Light Source Magic had left something deep in his spider brain.

"Fine," Regulus said. "We won’t do it in the Forbidden Forest. Come with me."

Baruk tilted his head, chelicerae clicking. "Where?"

"My home."

"... Your... colony..."

Regulus nodded. "That’s right. My colony."

Baruk was quiet for a moment, chelicerae swaying gently. "Aragog... father..."

"Go get him," Regulus said.

Baruk didn’t hesitate. Eight legs straightened. He turned and crawled toward the nest.

After a while, Aragog emerged. Eight legs moving with weight, the largest pair of eyes milky white, fixed on Regulus.

"You want to take my offspring?" Aragog’s voice rolled low, thrumming with vibration.

Regulus caught Baruk’s subtle movements in his peripheral vision. His expression didn’t change.

"Borrow," he said with a nod, tone even. "I’ll return him in a few days."

He wouldn’t reveal the real purpose. What was he supposed to say?

I’m going to make your offspring powerful, and then he’ll come back and overthrow you?

Aragog was silent for several seconds. "Baruk is my most intelligent child."

Losing one offspring meant nothing to him. Losing his smartest offspring also meant nothing.

The colony had hundreds of spiders. One fewer wouldn’t affect hunting, defense, or anything else.

But he didn’t want a wizard taking his offspring.

Regulus held his gaze, tone unchanged. "That’s why he’s the best fit."

Aragog’s chelicerae shifted. The top pair of eyes stayed on Regulus. The lower pairs swept elsewhere.

"Conditions," he said.

Regulus’s brow creased slightly.

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