Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

On Friday, in Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall began teaching them how to turn beetles into buttons.

This goes a step further than turning a match into a needle, involving the transformation of more complex life forms into inanimate objects, requiring even higher precision and clarity of intent in the transformation technique.

Most of the students were struggling with beetles trying to crawl away, and the classroom was filled with a slight buzzing and the thuds of failure.

Regulus picked up the beetle, then raised his wand and whispered a spell.

The beetle stiffened slightly in his palm, and the luster of its shell began to change, transitioning from dark brown to smooth black. Its shape began to shrink and gradually flatten.

In just three seconds, a delicate button with a smooth, jet-black surface and subtle spiral patterns lay quietly in his hand.

The transformation process is smooth, the finished product is perfect, and it even retains a trace of the original texture of the beetle, making it more unique than ordinary buttons.

He no longer asks questions outside of class as he used to.

He knew that Professor McGonagall was wary of him, so there was no need to test him further; remaining silent would suffice.

Professor McGonagall, who was on patrol, stopped in front of his desk, picked up the button and examined it carefully, a hint of satisfaction appearing on her stern face.

"Mr. Black, perfect transformation, Slytherin five points." She nodded and continued her inspection.

After class, Regulus was packing his things to leave when Professor McGonagall called him back.

"Mr. Blake, please wait a moment."

After the other students left the classroom, Professor McGonagall walked up to him, her gaze behind her glasses sharp and serious: "Your talent for Transfiguration is outstanding, far surpassing that of other young wizards your age."

"Thank you, Professor."

"I've noticed that you've been asking fewer questions in class lately," Professor McGonagall said calmly, her tone devoid of emotion.

Regulus felt a slight unease; he hadn't expected Professor McGonagall to point it out so readily. He had thought it best for them to remain silent and tacitly agree.

He replied frankly, "Yes, Professor."

I've considered your previous guidance and believe that at this stage I should focus more on building a solid foundation and mastering the course content, rather than prematurely venturing into complex problems that might be beyond my current level.

Professor McGonagall stared at him for a few seconds, seemingly judging the sincerity in his words.

Finally, she nodded slightly, her tone softening a bit: "A solid foundation is crucial."

However, if valuable questions arise during the learning process, questions that are based on the course content and have been carefully considered, my office door remains open.

Hogwarts encourages thinking, but thinking must be based on a sufficient foundation of knowledge.

"I understand, Professor, thank you very much." Regulus was somewhat surprised, then bowed politely.

As Regulus left the classroom, he seemed lost in thought.

Since Professor McGonagall had made it clear that he welcomed well-considered questions, Regulus naturally had no reason to be polite.

That afternoon, after finishing his herbalism class, he went to the door of the Transfiguration professor's office.

He knocked on the door, and after receiving permission, he pushed the door open and entered.

Professor McGonagall was sitting behind her desk grading papers. When she looked up and saw him, her stern brows seemed to relax slightly, and she gestured for him to sit down.

"Mr. Black, is there any question?" She put down her quill, crossed her hands on the table, and adopted a serious posture.

"Yes, Professor, it's some thoughts on Transfiguration." Regulus took out two objects wrapped in soft cloth from his satchel and laid them out on the table.

A piece of graphite that is soft and smooth, dark gray in color, and can leave a mark on paper.

A perfectly cut small diamond that reflects brilliant fire.

"I would like to ask about these two substances," Regulus said respectfully and attentively.

"From some perspectives, graphite and diamond are considered to have an incredibly close connection in their most fundamental composition, and may even originate from the same basic element."

Their appearance, hardness, luster, and value vary drastically, but in the eyes of a master of transformation, is there some...inherent similarity or the possibility of them transforming into one another?

He continued, "I've tried using transfiguration to explore the connections between them."

For example, attempts can be made to transform graphite into diamond, or diamond into graphite, but the process is difficult, consumes a lot of resources, and is hard to maintain stably.

It seems to be more than just changing the shape and texture; it involves something deeper, even something about the stability of the material's intrinsic structure.

Regulus knew that the difference between the two stemmed from the spatial orientation of the bonds and the arrangement of the atoms, but this was obviously something he couldn't tell Professor McGonagall.

He just wanted to know how these two objects, which were so different in nature but both were pure carbon, appeared to Professor McGonagall, a master of Transfiguration.

And how they transform into each other.

This question clearly goes beyond the scope of the textbook and even touches on the fringes of advanced transfiguration and alchemy.

Professor McGonagall's eyes lit up behind her glasses. She glanced at Regulus with some surprise, seemingly not expecting a first-year student to think at this level.

"A very... profound and unique question, Mr. Black." Professor McGonagall's tone was clearly appreciative.

"Graphite and diamonds? Few people, especially at your age, would think about Transfiguration from the perspective of its fundamental material connection."

Typically, when we learn to turn a match into a needle or a beetle into a button, we focus on the transformation of form and function, rather than tracing a possible common origin between two seemingly disparate substances.

She reached out and picked up the graphite, gently stroking it with her fingertips to feel its smooth texture. Then she carefully examined the diamond and fell into a brief moment of contemplation.

"In my Transfiguration practice," she began slowly, "I do indeed perceive that different substances exhibit different magical properties."

Turning a feather into an iron block is much more difficult than turning an iron block into a feather, because the former requires building a denser and more stable structure.

The two substances you mentioned...the contrast is so stark, yet you've pointed out that they might have a common origin, which is very interesting.

Professor McGonagall continued, "I have not specifically studied the transformational connection between the two."

But from a magical perspective, diamonds do feel much harder, more refined, and more orderly to me than graphite.

Graphite gives me the feeling of being loose, layered, and easy to slide.

Turning graphite into diamonds may involve more than just increasing hardness and changing luster.

It's more like rebuilding a bunch of loose, slippery sheets into a tightly structured crystal palace where every part is closely connected.

The difficulty involved far exceeds that of ordinary form transformations.

"That's exactly what's puzzling me, Professor," Regulus chimed in at the opportune moment.

"In the process of trying it out, I felt that they seemed to share some kind of most basic substance, but the way they were arranged and combined was completely different."

As the professor said, graphite is loose, layered, and slippery, while diamond is a three-dimensional structure in which each node is tightly connected to the other nodes.

The transformation technique is probably not just about changing appearances.

Instead, it completely rewrites this most fundamental internal structure, forcibly reconstructing it from a stable state into another completely different, yet equally, or even more stable, state.

Professor McGonagall listened intently, her eyes gleaming with thoughtful consideration.

Regulus's description provided her with a highly insightful perspective, allowing her to understand the difficulty and essence of Transfiguration from the perspective of the inherent structural rules or construction patterns of matter.

"A very insightful observation, Mr. Black." Professor McGonagall finally gave a faint smile.

"This reminds me of certain high-level magic that involves the transformation of the essence of matter, or even... the Philosopher's Stone."

She waved her wand, and the graphite on the table floated up gently: "Let's test this idea."

She didn't recite a lengthy incantation; she simply tapped the tip of her wand slightly and stared intently at the graphite.

Regulus could sense a powerful, pure, and extremely condensed magical energy enveloping the graphite, within which lay an incredibly clear will—

The idea is about reconstructing its inherent rules of connection.

The graphite began to change at a rate visible to the naked eye.

The dark gray quickly faded, the texture became incredibly dense, the transparency increased, and light began to refract from within.

A few seconds later, a transparent crystal with obvious diamond-like characteristics and hardness appeared on the table.

Then, Professor McGonagall tapped her wand again, and the crystal changed further. Its edges were smoothed out, refracting an even more brilliant fire, and it eventually turned into a small diamond.

The whole process was handled with ease, far more relaxed and stable than when Regulus himself tried.

This is the realm of a master.