Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Regulus didn't immediately state the problem; he first glanced at Sirius.

Sirius was also glancing at him sideways, his eyes turning to the side, but his head not turning.

The moment their eyes met, Sirius felt a jolt, quickly averting his gaze to his knees.

After a moment, he probably realized that this was wrong and made him seem guilty.

On what grounds?

He turned his eyes back, but his head remained still, his gaze drifting from Regulus's face to the picture frame on the wall, then from the picture frame to the quill pen on the table, refusing to return to its original place.

Regulus felt embarrassed for him because of his appearance.

Regulus looked away and stopped looking at him.

He was thinking about something: should he let Sirius stay? He needed to demonstrate things before asking questions.

But then he thought again, spatial distortion wasn't something shameful; it was just a high-level application of Transfiguration. If word got out, it would only mean that he was good at Transfiguration.

And Sirius probably won't tell anyone, otherwise what would that look like?

Tell your friends about your brother's situation, and then listen to their opinions, whether they laugh at you or pretend not to care.

That would be so boring and beneath him; Sirius Black would never do such a thing.

One more thing, Sirius's talent is already very clear: shapeshifting.

But spatial deformation is not like that. Its key is the ability to perceive space. Space must be structured, it must be an intuitive sense that can be touched, and it must be a cognition that can be altered.

Regulus paused for a moment when he thought of this.

That's not necessarily true. Professor McGonagall is a master of Transfiguration, and she can transform space, but does she have spatial awareness?

Regulus was unsure; perhaps he was, perhaps he wasn't.

Perhaps if transfiguration goes deep enough, there is another way to reach space, without needing that innate intuition.

Instead, it relies on an understanding of the transformation itself, pushing the logic of material transformation layer by layer upwards, perhaps pushing it far enough to reach space.

But for now, at least for Sirius, and even for Regulus himself, the first step is to perceive space before he can change it.

Regulus didn't know if Sirius had this.

If so, that would be best, as it would inspire him and show him a higher level of Transfiguration.

If not, then he should know that transfiguration can do far more than just turn stones into birds.

Regulus suppressed these thoughts and looked at Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall directly asked him to state his question, without calling Sirius out or giving any hints.

Regulus understood what she meant: letting Sirius see it, whether it was a stimulus or an inspiration, was not a bad thing.

Since that's the case, there's nothing more to say. He asked directly, "Professor, after space is deformed, if a spell is injected into it, the deformation will become extremely unstable and will dissipate at the slightest touch."

The space either restores itself to its original state or the deformation perturbation disappears directly. I want to know, where is the problem?

After listening, Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows slightly, glanced at Regulus's face for a moment, and then tilted her chin towards the top of her desk, indicating that he should demonstrate.

Regulus drew his wand.

The animals were still moving around in the office. He raised his hand and waved, and the lion disappeared, turning back into the eraser.

The stag disappeared, turning back into the parchment; the big dog disappeared, turning back into the cushion.

It was spotless, leaving not even a trace of the magic that had been transformed.

Sirius Black didn't react much when he saw his transformation canceled; he had been quiet ever since Regulus asked that question.

Regulus didn't let him go first, which surprised him a little.

In fact, he was prepared for Regulus to tell him to leave, but he was also prepared to stay as long as Professor McGonagall didn't kick him out.

Why should I show it to you, but you won't show it to me?

Then he heard two words: space and deformation?

Can space be deformed?

Before he could even process what was happening, Regulus had already begun his demonstration.

Above the desk, the air first subtly distorted, then that area began to change, its boundaries tightened, it concave inward, and the spatial outline became visible.

The space itself is deformed there, as if someone has twisted a piece of transparent cloth in the middle, creating a distinct crease.

The edges of the folds are sharp, and when light brushes across its surface, it folds at a slight angle, making the wood grain of the tabletop suddenly break at a certain angle.

Regulus maintained the transformation, raised his other hand, and gently touched the edge of the transformed space with his index finger, and clear water flowed like a spring.

The water had barely left the fingertips, and before it even touched the edge of the fold, the deformed space vanished.

The fold seemed to be suddenly straightened from both sides by something, and disappeared in an instant.

The water flowed through the area where the folds had been, landing on the table and splashing out a small patch of water.

Regulus continued, space deformed again, and the fold reappeared.

Regulus continued, space deformed again, and the fold reappeared.

He changed the spell, cleaned it up completely, and the faint light of the spell just touched the edge of the deformation before the wrinkles disappeared again.

Clean and neat, as if smoothed out from the middle by a hand.

He came again, casting a disarming spell. Red light shot out from the tip of his staff, flew to the edge of the distortion, and before it even touched it, the space vanished again.

The red light passed through that spot, struck the wall, shattered, and left a shallow scorch mark on the stone wall.

Regulus waved his left hand, and the match on the table exploded into wood chips, the fine powder scattering in the air.

One of the fragments floated up, deformed in mid-air, its body lengthened, wings extended from its back, and legs emerged from its abdomen.

A small flying insect, with transparent wings and long, thin legs, hangs in the air.

Then it flew forward, reaching the edge of the deformation, and the space disappeared again.

The insect flew past that spot, its wings still flapping, and continued flying forward until it crashed into the bookshelf and died.

Regulus put away his wand and looked at Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk, her gaze shifting from the disappearing crease to his face.

She nodded in satisfaction: "To be able to deform space to this extent, Mr. Blake, you've made rapid progress."

Then ask, "How long can it last?"

Regulus nodded respectfully: "Less than a minute."

Professor McGonagall said nothing more, and her gaze shifted to Sirius Black.

Sirius Black looked a little dazed, his mouth slightly open, his eyes fixed on the spot above the desk where the crease had disappeared, still lost in thought.

His expression was neither shock nor bewilderment, as if he had seen something that shouldn't exist, and the string in his mind hadn't quite clicked.

Professor McGonagall looked away and turned to Regulus.

She picked up the teacup on the table, took a sip, and put it down. "Mr. Black, have you ever considered how space itself differs from ordinary matter?"

McGonagall didn't let him answer. She continued, "You turn a stone into a cup, and once you're done, the stone doesn't turn back on its own. Why?"

Because the transfiguration has altered its structure, it is not permanent, but it will not immediately return to its original state once the magic is removed, unless you cast the spell again, or someone breaks the cup.

But space is different. If you distort it, it will come back on its own. Why?

Regulus quickly thought about the problem and then a word came to mind: elastic modulus.

Space is elastic, and its elastic modulus is extremely high, so high that it is almost impossible to compare with ordinary materials, and there may not even be an upper limit.

This means that after the space is altered, the force that restores it to its original state is extremely strong, and this force persists and continues to exert its resistance.

The longer the transformation lasts, the more magic is needed to counteract the elasticity, which is why he can only maintain it for less than a minute.

Regulus went through it and then said, "After space is deformed, it keeps trying to bounce back. Maintaining the deformation is to fight against this elastic force."

Anything imbued with magic that touches the deformation zone adds a variable to the struggle; once the balance is broken, space bounces back.

Professor McGonagall nodded, the lines at the corners of her eyes deepening slightly: "The elasticity of space, that's a very accurate description."

She then asked, "So, do you think that this elasticity itself can be deformed?"

Regulus fell silent. What was this?

Elasticity is not matter, not energy, not anything that can be directly touched by magic.

It is a property of matter, the ability of space to return to its original state after being subjected to force.

How do attributes change?

A stone can be turned into a cup, and a cup can be turned into a bird, but what about the hardness of a stone?

Changes in hardness are a result of deformation techniques, not their goal.

He never cast a spell on hardness; the stone simply changed, and the hardness changed accordingly.

The same applies to the elasticity of space; when the structure of space is changed, the elasticity naturally changes as well.

But the force of space bouncing back is still there; it hasn't been truly changed, only compressed and suppressed. As soon as the magic is withdrawn, it bounces back.

Is this reasonable?

Regulus looked up at Professor McGonagall, his tone hesitant and clearly uncertain: "The elasticity of space can also deform?"

Professor McGonagall's lips twitched slightly upwards, a small curve, but Regulus was certain he saw it.

Professor McGonagall stood up and raised her wand.

She first pointed to the top of the desk, and the space began to deform, just like Regulus had done earlier, with a fold hanging above the desk.

Her wand remained pointed, and another stream of magic seeped from its tip.

"What you just did," she said in a steady voice, as if explaining standard transfiguration in class, "transformed the shape of space. This is the first layer."

The appearance of space has changed, but its elasticity remains. Elasticity is another property of space, separate from its form. To stabilize the deformation, both aspects must be addressed simultaneously.

She put away her wand, but the wrinkle remained, neither disappearing nor bouncing back on its own; it just hung there.

Regulus stared at the fold, spreading his senses.

Two layers of deformation are stacked together, one deeper and the other even deeper.

He could sense the elasticity of that space existing there as a tangible thing.

His perception deepened to a new level, regarding the properties of space.

Previously, he only knew that space was elastic and would recover on its own, but that was physics knowledge, not something he could perceive.

Now he sensed that it was no longer an abstract physical concept, but something concrete that could be touched by magic.

Professor McGonagall didn't give him time to think it over. She raised her wand again and cast a glowing spell at the crease.

The ball of light floated out from the tip of the staff, flew into the distorted space, and was then pulverized within that warped space.

Countless tiny points of light collided wildly in the folds and crevices, like a swarm of trapped fireflies, unable to fly out no matter what they did.

Professor McGonagall put down her wand, sat back in her chair, picked up her teacup, and took another sip.

When the rim of the cup touched her lower lip, her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she were savoring something delicious.

"Any other questions?" She stared at the teacup, not looking at Regulus.

"That's all," Regulus stood up and bowed slightly. "Thank you, Professor. This was very enlightening."

After saying that, he felt it was probably not big enough, so he added, "It's not just inspiration, it's opening a door."

Professor McGonagall looked up at him, a slight smile playing on her lips, before lowering her head to continue drinking her tea.

After a while, she looked up and asked, "Is the problem solved?"

Regulus's expression became even more respectful: "No, but I have a clue. Just now, I sensed something deeper in space. I couldn't do it before, but now I know how."

Professor McGonagall looked at him and nodded: "Don't shoot spells into it before the spatial distortion is fully developed."

"clear."

"Thank you, Professor." Regulus stood up and bowed deeply.

Professor McGonagall gave a soft hum and said nothing more, her gaze already fixed on the parchment on the table.

Regulus turned and walked toward the door. Sirius remained seated in his chair until Regulus opened the door, at which point he seemed to be pricked by something and abruptly stood up.

The two left the office, closing the door behind them.

The sun sets early in late November, and the corridor darkens. Torches are lit on the walls, one every few steps.

It's almost lunchtime, and the corridor is almost empty at this hour; everyone's gone to eat.

Regulus walked in front, with Sirius following behind, a few steps apart, and neither of them spoke.

Regulus was still thinking about what had just happened in the office.

He had been struggling with that elasticity.

He knew that space would bounce back after being altered; this was common sense in physics, the elastic modulus, and the tendency of spatial structures to recover.

He accepted this fact and then tried to fight it, suppressing it with magic and supporting it with his spirit, maintaining the deformed space and preventing it from bouncing back.

He struggled quite a bit, managing to maintain it for less than a minute, consuming a lot of magic and mental energy.

But Professor McGonagall did it completely differently. She didn't fight the elasticity; she transformed it directly, treating it as a specific problem that could be solved with Transfiguration.

This made Regulus realize that he was too used to using rational thinking to break down problems.

He treated this as a physics problem, analyzing, calculating, and counteracting the elasticity of space as an abstract physical concept.

Every step is logically clear and has a theoretical basis.

He did the right thing, but it was exhausting.

In his inherent understanding, the elasticity of space is a physical property of space itself, an abstract attribute.

Treating it as a target for transformation is an idea that simply wouldn't naturally emerge from his logical framework.

But he forgot one thing: magic is not physics, and physics is not magic. Sometimes magic contains physics, but more often they are clearly distinct.

Physics is a language that describes how the world works, and so is magic.

Using physics to solve magical problems sometimes works, and sometimes it doesn't.

This approach didn't work, but the physical analysis was correct; the mistake was that he used a physical approach to limit the problem.

His path in magic was already set: he would walk it with both reason and emotion.

But confirming something is one thing, encountering a specific problem is another.

When encountering a problem, the first reaction is still to analyze, break it down, find patterns, find causes, and find solutions.

Rational thinking dominates; it's almost instinctive.

This instinct has its value; rational thinking has taken him very far.

This is how the Disintegration Spell is derived, how spatial magic is calculated, and how the underlying logic of light magic is deduced.

Those achievements were made possible by rational thinking; without rational thinking, none of these things would have come about.

However, his rational thinking led him astray on the issue of spatial deformation.

He broke down a problem that required an emotional breakthrough into a technical challenge.

But Professor McGonagall showed him with a demonstration that it wasn't a technical problem, but a problem of approach.

He reached a boundary on this issue; rational analysis clarified the problem, but he couldn't find a solution.

Because the solution lies in the realm of emotion, in the realm of magic, in the realm of treating abstract things as targets that can be directly processed.

The two sets of thinking are not contradictory; he always uses both, just with different emphases on different issues.

This time, I focused on the wrong things, getting too caught up in the physical analysis and losing some of the magical intuition.

Regulus's method of solving problems has always been to dismantle, break down, examine clearly, and solve them one by one.

This method is effective and will continue to be effective, but it cannot only dismantle.

Some problems, when you take them apart until the very end, you find that you recognize every single part that comes off, but you just can't solve them.

At this point, we need to change our approach. Instead of continuing to dismantle, we should look to the side and see what others are doing.

Just like this time, he understood it instantly after Professor McGonagall finished her demonstration.

But that's not a bad thing; rational thinking is his strength, and he won't give it up.

He just needs to add something to his advantages: when he encounters a boundary, he needs to know where to look.

Regulus walked on, his pace neither hurried nor slow, lost in thought as he went.

Sirius followed behind without making a sound.

Just as Regulus had almost forgotten that someone was behind him, Sirius suddenly spoke up, deliberately making his tone casual: "Regulus."

Regulus turned his head to the side.

Sirius quickened his pace, walking alongside him without looking at him, his eyes fixed on the corridor ahead: "Want to talk?"

Regulus glanced at him.

The torchlight shone from Sirius's side, illuminating half of his face while the other half remained hidden in shadow.

His expression was neither serious nor relaxed; it was more like he was saying, "I'm just saying this, you can just listen casually."

Click to begin your wondrous journey in Hogwarts: Regulus, Lord of the Stars.