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Four months later, March 1964.
Walburga hosted a tea party. In name, it was a spring gathering for the ladies. In truth, it was Walburga's chance to show her sisters how her son was growing.
Thirteen-year-old Bellatrix was the first to arrive. She wore a dark green velvet dress, her hair combed perfectly into place, her gaze sharp and critical, as though she were determined to find faults in everyone present.
"I heard you blew up the sitting room," she said, walking straight over to Sirius' side.
Sirius lifted his chin. "I can control my magic now!"
Nine-year-old Andromeda and eight-year-old Narcissa entered behind their mother, Druella. Andromeda gave Regulus a gentle smile, while Narcissa's attention lingered on the new decorations in the sitting room, studying them with open curiosity.
The tea party began. The adults talked about dull things. Changes in Ministry staffing, the engagement of a daughter from some pure blood family, her bloodline not quite pure enough, but her wealth more than sufficient to make up for it.
The children sat at a smaller table prepared just for them, child sized tableware neatly laid out. Sirius could barely keep still, eager to show off the magic he had only just learned.
Regulus, meanwhile, was thinking about something else. Why did Transfiguration require imagining a specific shape? If I only want to change the state of the material, without fixing it into a particular form, what would happen?
"Watch closely," Sirius said, focusing his mind as he stared at his silver spoon.
Magic surged.
The spoon began to bend. 'Very good, the curve was elegant.'
But Sirius was too excited. He thought, bend a little more. That would look even better!
More magic poured out, and the spoon bent too far.
It was a mistake. He glanced at Bella, wanting to see if she had noticed. With that one glance, his control over the magic wavered.
The flow of magic burst like a breached dam, surging toward the entire set of tableware.
Regulus suddenly felt the violent fluctuation of magic. He looked up just in time to see all the silver at the small table begin to change colour. The bright silver faded away, replaced by a fleshy pink. Ringed patterns spread across their surfaces.
They turned into earthworms.
Twelve thick, fleshy pink earthworms writhed across the tablecloth.
The adults had already been drawn by the commotion. Walburga's face drained from red to white.
Druella set down her teacup, her expression stiff and frozen.
Bella raised an eyebrow, covering her mouth in exaggerated surprise, and let out a theatrical "ah."
Sirius stood there, stunned. He stared at what he had done, his lips trembling.
"Iā¦" He opened his mouth but was too embarrassed to speak.
Walburga's hand moved toward her wand. Regulus saw the fury in his mother's eyes. It wasn't just anger at a ruined tea party, but the shame of losing face in front of her sisters.
Trouble, Regulus thought. If she explodes, the tea party will end on a sour note, Sirius will be punished, and I will have to listen to her complain for three days straight.
He stood up, walked over to the small table, and lowered his head to look at the writhing creatures spread across it.
To be fair, these earthworms had been Transfigured quite completely, he noted silently to himself.
First, analyze the structure. His mind began to work on its own. The Transfiguration spell had not completely destroyed the material base; it had only rearranged the molecular structure.
The silver atoms were still there, and the memory metal effect should still be present. The key was to locate the last stable form memory before the transformationā¦
He raised his hand, palm facing downward, hovering about ten centimeters above the earthworms, and began to channel his magic.
Unlike the way ordinary wizards released magic, Regulus realized that his control could reach a microscopic level of precision.
He didn't even need to rely on emotional drive like conventional spellcasting. Instead, he relied on calculation. His mind could automatically construct models across multiple dimensions, calculate the paths of magical flow, and adjust output frequency accordingly.
It was as if there were a supercomputer inside his head. He had once joked to himself that perhaps this was a perk of being a transmigrator.
The next moment, silvery light seeped out from within the earthworms. They stopped squirming and began to rise one by one, suspending themselves in mid-air as they arranged into a perfect hexagon.
The hexagon stabilized. He thought to himself that this matched the most optimal distribution of magic.
Bella leaned forward, her eyes widening.
Narcissa covered her mouth in shock.
Andromeda whispered softly, "Merlinā¦"
The reversal of the Transfiguration began. The earthworms contracted, then stretched, silvery sheen glowing from within.
Ten seconds later, the tableware was restored to its original form, floating in the air, silver light flowing smoothly across their surfaces.
Regulus's fingers twitched slightly, and the tableware followed the shortest paths, avoiding every obstacle, and settled back into their original positions in an orderly fashion.
Spoons, forks, knives, teacups, saucers, small plates ā not a single piece was out of place.
Finally, there was that bent spoon. The crease was deep; the metal had suffered fatigue.
Regulus extended his index finger and lightly touched the crease.
The metal crystal structure needed to be rearranged. Localized heating was required to reach the recrystallization temperature without exceeding the melting point. Magic simulated the thermal effect, the frequency adjusted to resonate with the silver atoms.
The crease began to disappear as the atoms returned to their proper positions, as though time itself were flowing backward.
Five seconds later, the spoon was as flawless as new.
Regulus withdrew his hand, returned to his seat, and picked up the biscuit he had not finished earlier. His expression remained completely neutral, giving no one any hint that this had been deliberate showing off.
Inside, however, he was deeply pleased. As expected of me!
"Merlin's beard!" Druella blurted out, nearly dropping the teacup in her hand.
Bella stood up and walked over to the small table. She picked up a spoon to inspect it, turning it over, holding it up to the light, tapping it lightly with her fingernail until it rang with a crisp metallic sound.
She looked up at Regulus, shock plain in her eyes. "Youā¦ how did you do that?"
Regulus chewed his biscuit and replied vaguely, his words muffled, "They wanted to turn back."
"What?"
"The tableware wanted to look like tableware again. I just helped a little."
The explanation was childish to the point of being ridiculous. Coming from the mouth of a three-year-old, though, it sounded perfectly normal.
Of course I know how I did it, Regulus thought to himself. But I can do it, not explain it.
Wizards could accomplish many unbelievable things through instinct and talent alone. But at my age, if I could not only do it, but also clearly explain the principles behind it, that would be far beyond what was acceptable.
Narcissa whispered to Andromeda, "He looks so relaxed."
Andromeda nodded, a trace of worry flickering in her eyes.
Walburga's expression went through a rapid series of changes: shock, confusion, and then wild delight.
But she restrained herself. The mistress of the House of Black could not lose her composure in front of outsiders.
She merely lifted her teacup, took a sip, and said as calmly as she could, "Regulus has a special intuition for Transfiguration."
Druella let out a somewhat forced dry laugh. "Special? Walburga, this is a miracle! He is only three! What was Orion doing at three? He was still smearing jam all over the house-elf."
Everyone's gaze drifted toward Regulus again and again, but he simply ate his biscuit quietly, as if nothing at all had happened.
Sirius kept his head lowered the whole time. Regulus glanced at him and knew his pride had taken a hit.
After the tea party ended, Druella left with her daughters, and only the family remained in the living room.
Walburga finally couldn't hold back any longer. She scooped Regulus up into her arms. "My genius!"
She whispered excitedly into her son's ear, "I knew it! The future of the House of Black!"
He looked over his mother's shoulder and saw Sirius.
Sirius stood at the doorway of the sitting room, one hand gripping the doorframe. It was hard to imagine a four-year-old wearing such a complicated expression; shock, hurt, confusion, and a hint of jealousy?
Trouble doubled, Regulus thought. A four-year-old doesn't understand what it means to do something out of necessity; he only knows that his younger brother had stolen the spotlight.
Sirius turned and ran off, his footsteps thudding loudly up the stairs.
Walburga set Regulus down and frowned. "He is throwing a tantrum again. Don't mind him, Regulus, you did nothing wrong."
He is only four, Regulus thought, but did not say it out loud. After all, he himself was only three.
That night, Orion knocked on Regulus's door. He had just returned home. As a member of the Wizengamot, he often worked late into the night.
"I heard about what happened today," Orion said, sitting across from Regulus. "Impressive skill."
"How did you do it?" he asked.
Regulus thought for three seconds, then gave an answer. "I do not know. I justā¦ saw how to do it."
"Saw?" Orion was somewhat puzzled; this was not an answer he had expected.
"I saw what the earthworms were supposed to look like, so I let them turn back."
Orion studied him thoughtfully. This could be explained as talentārare, but not unheard of.
Sirius's power was strong but uncontrolled, born from unstable emotions.
By comparison, Regulus leaned more toward control and precise manipulation.
"An interesting explanation," he finally said. "But remember, do not show too much in front of others. Geniuses invite jealousy, and they also invite fear."
"Cousin Bella seemed very excited," Regulus steered the conversation toward Bella.
"Bellaā¦" Orion's brow furrowed. "She is obsessed with power. And that rising figure is obsessed with power as well. Be careful not to catch their attention."
Regulus nodded. Of course he knew who that rising figure was: Tom Riddle, the future Lord Voldemort!
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[CHAPTER END]