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After a massive, heavy overnight snowfall, the sprawling, dark canopy of the Forbidden Forest was completely, beautifully draped in heavy, glittering silver. The towering, ancient branches of the tall spruces and pines were heavily covered in thick layers of soft, pristine snow. A sudden, biting gust of winter wind blew across the grounds, lifting the pure white powder into the freezing air exactly like a heavy dusting of sweet powdered sugar falling gracefully onto a massive Christmas dessert.
Sitting in the warm, quiet library, Regulus looked out the high arched window at the winter scenery, blinked his dark eyes slowly, and suddenly, violently missed the incredibly rich, flaky French pastries heavily sprinkled with powdered sugar that the Black family house-elf, Kreacher, frequently made back home.
This year, he had actively, politically already agreed with Sirius to completely return to Number 12 Grimmauld Place together to properly spend the Christmas holidays with their fanatical pureblood family. However, utilizing his CEO scheduling, he planned for them to aggressively return to the school a little bit earlier than the other students—
There was honestly absolutely nothing they could logically do about their packed schedule; completely unlike the highly pathetic, cowardly image little Avery currently held of his pureblood friends actively pursuing "lofty," dark political careers, Regulus was currently also in highly urgent, massive need of deliberately 'stirring up massive trouble' entirely within the walls of Hogwarts.
Since this specific, highly bizarre system task (Guardian of Cats) was explicitly, biologically related to the magical animals currently roaming the Castle, perhaps the highly coveted, overpowered 'Stealth' upgrade currently locked in the task rewards was also mathematically related to this biological concept—if he could flawlessly, invisibly avoid detection from highly sensitive animals, or even entirely bypass the natural instincts of absolutely all non-human magical creatures... then couldn't he theoretically bypass the massive, lethal snake currently sleeping deep in the Castle pipes?
Hehe. Couldn't he actively, mathematically try to aggressively solo the Basilisk?
This highly lethal, incredibly overpowered tactical thought had actually been deeply, aggressively brewing in his gamer mind for a very long time, and Regulus was genuinely, extremely looking forward to heavily testing that specific stealth theory.
Recently, exactly as his personal, daily attention to the Castle's stray cats actively soared, their highly unique, biological special qualities were also aggressively revealed directly to his corporate observation—as far as he scientifically knew, the absolute vast majority of the cats currently residing in the Castle were honestly just completely ordinary, native Muggle cats. They absolutely were not highly intelligent magical creatures like Hermione's future Kneazle mix, Crookshanks, and they definitely couldn't magically, telepathically communicate directly with people using words exactly like his golden eagles, Godric and Regina, could—
But they clearly, undeniably possessed their very own highly complex social organization, a deeply strict feline logic, and massive, highly specific preferences regarding students. They were absolutely not entirely, mindlessly loyal just to being Filch's little snitching helpers.
Leaving absolutely everything else aside regarding their intelligence—ever since the battered cat Church was violently rescued from the Slytherins by Lily and the other girls in the trophy room, the absolute mathematical number of Gryffindor students legally caught breaking curfew by the caretaker had immediately, violently plummeted. Many highly arrogant little wizards now proudly, loudly stated in the common room that Filch's snitching cat had surprisingly, completely intentionally turned a blind eye to them wandering around in the middle of the night. So, the rumor was that Filch must have finally, tragically completely lost his 'cat heart' and his connection to the beasts.
Whenever they quietly heard such highly inaccurate, arrogant words, the core members of the Pig Gang (HP) who actually, intimately knew the highly classified inside story completely couldn't help but actively snicker into their hands.
Even better for their intelligence network, Evie Frye of Ravenclaw had now organically, flawlessly become the absolute only little wizard in the entire school besides Filch to actively, fully gain the absolute trust and loyalty of the sprawling Castle cat community.
Evie, who had immediately become highly, famously known among their inner circle in exactly one brutal standoff battle, now officially possessed her very own glowing 'Developing Paper' communicator. She had officially, formally entered the absolute core inner circle of the Pig Gang, a highly elevated social status that made her Gryffindor friend Mary Macdonald extremely, deeply envious.
Although she was technically just a low-grade, second-year little witch on paper, the legendary Muggle Frye Family was clearly, fundamentally closely related to his transmigrator cheat, entirely possessing the massive, terrifying potential to actively become a literal god in combat.
She absolutely, fundamentally could not be ignored as a tactical asset.
In addition to her combat skills... Regulus also highly strategically asked Evie to securely send him a coded message on the paper absolutely every single time she actively went to feed the stray cats, so he could completely take the tactical opportunity to casually show up and aggressively increase his system favorability with the felines...
Thanks entirely to her massive help, his highly frustrating 'Cat Guardian' task progress quickly, rapidly increased to exactly '7/14', but it abruptly, completely stopped right there—
Gaming tasks. Well, they always mathematically get vastly, exponentially harder and vastly more tedious the further you progress down the skill tree. That's entirely, logically understandable for any RPG, Regulus thought analytically.
As for the highly arrogant, psychotic culprit of the animal abuse, Rabastan Lestrange? He had violently, permanently touched the cats' absolute reverse scales. And now, almost absolutely everywhere the older Slytherin boy physically went in the Castle, there were dozens of highly aggressive, unblinking cats silently watching him from the dark shadows. Completely forget about actively causing any violent trouble for Mudbloods; the paranoid boy couldn't even safely pull off a highly simple, petty prank in the corridors anymore without being instantly reported to Filch.
While this massive psychological torture of a blood-purist was certainly cause for a massive Gryffindor celebration, it also genuinely made Regulus slightly, deeply worried about the political fallout.
After all, listening highly closely to Severus Snape's intelligence reports (Severus heavily, successfully gathered it directly from his miserable roommate, Avery)—Rabastan was absolutely someone who genuinely, pathologically 'never actually learns a lesson.' He had even violently, loudly declared in the Slytherin common room that he absolutely wasn't physically finished dealing with those filthy cats. (Here, the cowardly Avery had again heavily, pathetically complained entirely to Severus: Rabastan is a massive coward. He only aggressively picks on the weak and helpless.) He aggressively kisses up to the strong, and violently kicks down the weak.
This pathetic little Avery... is actually quite politically interesting as a spy, Regulus thought, tapping his quill.
But indeed, Avery was right. Although Rabastan's highly arrogant pureblood brain often violently short-circuits in actual combat, he is ultimately a highly wealthy wizard completely possessing the massive financial means and dark political resources of the Lestrange family. And Evie and the girls logically cannot physically, actively protect the stray cats absolutely all the time.
So exactly what should they tactically do to permanently neutralize the threat?
You must absolutely, violently deal with those highly arrogant idiots who refuse to actively learn their political lessons.
Regulus heavily rubbed his aching brow.
Then he can absolutely only arrange for the Lestranges to completely—violently learn from overwhelming physical violence again.
If they completely, arrogantly refuse to logically understand human language and basic morality, do they also absolutely not mathematically understand massive, crushing physical pain?
...
Regulus turned his cold, calculating gaze back to the dusty reading table. He opened the highly thick, ancient leather-bound book resting in front of him and aggressively browsed the highly detailed, complex academic introductions to manufacturing small, protective alchemical items printed on its pages—
If he could heavily utilize Uncle Alphard's forge to legally, secretly mass-produce a massive batch of highly enchanted protective gear directly for the stray cats—such as tiny alchemical collars that could flawlessly, instantly deflect lethal curses or immediately alert Filch to a location when triggered... then wouldn't he truly, completely become the absolute, ultimate 'Guardian of Cats' and max out the quest?
He also logically needed to aggressively push Sirius and the other Marauders to massively speed up the magical development of their mapping project (the Marauder's Map).
This highly tactical way, little Evie would also mathematically have vastly fewer physical worries about being ambushed by Slytherins while feeding the animals.
Ah, it's really, genuinely incredibly difficult to actually get a proper, detailed walkthrough guide for this kind of obscure, highly tedious favorability task— Regulus sighed heavily in his corporate heart. He then completely composed his mind and aggressively continued reading page after heavy page, highly diligently searching for relevant alchemical runic information.
He didn't finally close the heavy book until the pale silver moon slowly, beautifully appeared from completely behind the dark Scottish mountains. He packed his bag and walked entirely alone towards the Dueling Club activity room.
When there were absolutely no official, scheduled dueling brackets running, their highly exclusive Pig Gang (HP) would sometimes illegally occupy this massive, warded activity room to aggressively practice advanced spells together in secret.
Honestly, HP is mathematically almost exactly like Harry's future Dumbledore's Army (DA).
...
On the dark, freezing way to the room, he highly deliberately, tactically passed directly by a much less crowded, highly drafty dark corner of the fourth-floor corridor.
"You absolutely, fundamentally must not legally eat highly suspicious things of completely unknown origin ever again."
Evie Frye squatted elegantly on the cold stone ground, with the battered Church and several other highly attentive stray cats gathered completely tightly around her. She was holding a handful of premium dried fish in her gloved hand and completely fairly distributing them one by one. Then, she highly carefully took out a small, shallow porcelain dish and placed it flat on the ground. She highly carefully poured out some thick, highly golden, oily liquid into the dish, softly muttering to the felines:
"This is highly expensive fish oil. It's incredibly, biologically good for your winter fur. Please go call absolutely all your friends in the Castle, and tell them to all come safely eat some."
This highly expensive, premium imported fish oil directly from Muggle Iceland did genuinely seem to actually have a highly miraculous, biological effect on the cats—in just a brief two or three weeks, Church's physical change was completely, beautifully visible to the naked human eye. His originally incredibly dirty and massively sparse, matted gray fur became incredibly smooth, highly shiny, and perfectly neat. And his previously highly uneven, broken whiskers miraculously became perfectly symmetrical.
Only his highly ragged, violently torn ears still served to visibly remind the passing students—this was absolutely still a tough, highly experienced stray (cat) who would actively take the physical time to experience brutal life in the Forbidden Forest.
Hey.
The quiet, incredibly peaceful scene directly before him in the dark corridor was truly, undeniably beautiful.
Regulus, completely silently watching the assassin and the cats from afar in the shadows, couldn't help but smile genuinely.
...
The highly thrilling, massive standoff night in the Trophy Room was officially a thing of the past. Looking back analytically, exactly what violently happened that night was mathematically vastly more like the absolute very first, highly successful corporate team-building activity for the Pig Gang.
And—it was a truly, highly successful team-building activity at that.
For a massive example, Severus Snape and Sirius Black. Although they absolutely, fundamentally still possessed massive, deep political reservations about each other and logically still completely didn't see eye to eye on most things, they could actually, finally actively treat each other completely properly and highly politely in the room, and even openly discuss a few highly complex academic issues without drawing their wands.
Pushing open the heavy oak door to the Dueling activity room, Regulus saw the two specific people currently standing directly in front of the massive, granite Mohs Test Stand at an absolute glance—
"Sirius, exactly how on earth did your specific, highly compressed Severing Charm... actually physically cut completely through solid diamond?" Severus's pale tone was slightly, highly nervous—much like the highly paranoid Rabastan and the other Slytherins, they would usually aggressively hide their best spells and lethal killer moves exactly like priceless treasures and absolutely never voluntarily share them with anyone else.
Sirius, actually hearing the highly technical question from his former enemy, was only highly slightly surprised for a microsecond. He then completely, honestly replied highly seriously, dropping his Gryffindor arrogance: "I highly think, absolutely first of all—you must fundamentally, intimately understand the absolute, physical target of the spell. Its exact physical appearance, and its precise, mathematical internal molecular structure. Then, exactly when actively casting the spell—"
Sirius smoothly took out his polished oak wand and pointed it highly precisely directly at a dark corner of the stone wall:
"You absolutely must stare intensely, highly intently at the target. You must violently, aggressively mobilize absolutely all your raw willpower with absolutely all your might. You can smoothly move your wrist just a little bit for compression—exactly like this."
Severus completely narrowed his dark eyes and highly smoothly moved his own pale wrist, flawlessly, exactly imitating the Gryffindor's fluid physical movements. But he actually had a completely different, highly analytical thought running deep in his cold heart—he absolutely logically needed to fundamentally, intimately understand the exact biological target of the spell, did he?
Then this upcoming Christmas holiday, he absolutely, fundamentally had to actively go to a highly specialized Muggle bookstore and legally buy a highly detailed, scientific illustrated medical book.
Specifically... the massive kind heavily filled with highly detailed, biological illustrations of fully dissected human bodies and internal organs. (The birth of Sectumsempra!)
"Thank you... Then—what about the highly advanced Disillusionment Charm? Exactly how do you actively practice it?" Severus asked highly respectfully again, fully intending to extract all the knowledge he could.
"Ah. This... is absolutely not easy at all to master. The core requirement should logically also be absolute, unbreakable mental focus... but I honestly can't really explain the physical sensation perfectly—even the brilliant Regulus, he actively, violently practiced it every single day for a whole, entire summer before getting it right."
"By the way—his specific Disillusionment Charm is mathematically vastly better and completely flawless compared to mine... Exactly why don't you simply ask him to teach you? He actually even has a highly detailed, restricted reference book for the theory."
"Okay." Severus nodded firmly, showing a highly genuine, deeply grateful smile to the Gryffindor.
Of course, Severus absolutely wouldn't actually verbally tell Sirius the dark truth—
He completely, fundamentally thought Regulus's raw, terrifying magic level was currently standing absolutely far, far beyond his own physical understanding right now. And even if he actively asked the Slytherin heir, he highly likely might completely not logically understand the advanced explanation at all. It was mathematically, practically vastly better to just ask the slightly less-talented Sirius.
After all, they had been violently, aggressively fighting each other in the corridors for so incredibly long, and Severus absolutely had to coldly, logically admit the truth to himself—
Their raw magical levels and combat instincts were currently incredibly, highly comparable.