［Hp］he Is Named for Eternity

Vitalis, a family blessed and cursed by magic. The magic power is powerful enough to shake history, but the bloodline is so fragile that it can wither at any time. In order to survive, they chose to disappear completely from the wizarding world - marrying Muggles, allowing their magic to be diluted and history to be forgotten. Itno Vitalis is the last descendant of this ancient family. His sealed magic power surged in his veins, his legs atrophied, and he was trapped in the castle in the North York Moors all day long, accompanied by potions, wheelchairs and servants. Everyone thought he was going to die—either tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. On the morning of his eleventh birthday, an owl smashed his window. Sunlight shines in through the cracks in the glass, and dust dances in the beam, like an absurd dream. Hogwarts. Magic. There is also a serious female professor who transforms from a cat into a human being. "You are going to the wizarding world," Professor McGonagall said. "There will be no mercy for your fragility, nor tolerance for your temper." The candlelight in Hogwarts flickered, and the long Slytherin table was silvery and green. "Vitalis" - a name even more shameful than a mixed race, made him the target of public criticism as soon as he entered school. However, among the countless looks that were either contemptuous or probing, there was one that was particularly quiet. Regulus Black, the "perfect heir" of the pure-blood family, is a silent observer. He didn't get close or far away, he just watched quietly with his transparent gray eyes. Regulus Black was later asked what his first impression of Itnor Vitalis was. He thought about it for a long time. "A fire that is about to go out," he said, "is obviously almost extinguished, but it still burns painfully." --- Itno won't be a likeable character for a long time. He was bitter, irritable, ungrateful, and verbally hurtful. He has a reason for this, but the reason is not an excuse. His growth is slow, painful, and repetitive - like a new shoot squeezed out of a thorn bush, carrying blood, thorns, and all the reasons why it should not bloom, but it still blooms. Regulus was distant, calm, and polite enough to make people feel distant. He does not take the initiative to save anyone, nor does he consider himself to be anyone's savior. He was just an observer. After observing for a long time, he found that he had taken root next to the thorns and could not walk away. "I won't comfort you," Regulus said, his gray eyes as calm as a winter lake, "nor will I say that everything will be fine. That won't fool you, and I don't want to lie." Itno sneered: "Then what can you do?" Regulus turned a page of the book, and the fire reflected on the side of his face. "Sit with you in the dark," he said, "if you don't want to be alone." --- Will the thorns bloom? Maybe not. But in the wasteland, they have existed for thousands of years. Intention: To live towards death