Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 424: You did well, but let's go out first.

The stopper began to deform, and the edges loosened.

The color changes as it changes, from light brown to darker, then to red, and the matte cork becomes a subtly translucent warm color.

Then the outline softens, and the hard edges of the solid soften, like the side of a candle closest to the flame, collapsing inward little by little.

Halfway through the process, a glimmer of orange-red light appeared at the bottom, pulsating along the edge.

The bottle stopper melted completely, turning into a cluster of flames.

The flame leaped up from the palm of my hand, about half an inch high. It wasn't big, but the color was perfect. The layers of the flame transitioned naturally from dark red at the bottom to orange at the top.

A cluster of extremely fine lines remains at the base; the traces left by the cork's fibrous structure during the deformation process are gradually dissipating.

Sirius's palm steadily supported the cluster of flames, his fingers outstretched, the bottom of his hand suspended in the air, so he wasn't burned.

The flame flickered a few times, swaying back and forth in my palm.

He was focused, his lips moving as he continued chanting the incantation, his wand turning slightly.

The center of the flame began to darken, the orange-yellow of the flame tip faded, and the entire cluster of fire seemed to be cooled down by something, transitioning from warm to cool colors.

Then it instantly became transparent, the entire ball of flame collapsed, turning into a handful of flowing water, which gathered in the hollow of the palm, held by magic, and flowed slowly.

A thin layer of sweat had begun to bead on his forehead, his eyebrows were lowered, and his eyes were fixed on the pool of water, unblinking.

Regulus could see his magic surging, much more active than usual, and his mind more focused than ever before.

It's rare to see this guy so focused.

Regulus nodded slightly.

Sirius continued chanting the incantation, flicked his wand, and mist began to rise from the surface of the water, dissipating directly from a liquid state to a gaseous state, with wind swirling in his palm.

It was invisible, but air was spreading outwards; a corner of a piece of parchment on the table that hadn't been covered up was lifted, and the flames in the fireplace tilted to the side.

Sweat streamed down his forehead and temples, his fingers began to tremble slightly, and the wind was about to give way.

Regulus looked over.

The first two transformations are at least visible to the naked eye.

Fire has color and light, water has a surface and reflections, and both have outlines. Although the boundaries are constantly changing, they can always be captured by the eye.

It doesn't move with the wind; it has no color, no shape, doesn't reflect light, and doesn't generate heat.

All that can be seen are fallen leaves swirling in the wind, the ripples on the lake's surface, and the bent grass stems.

As for the wind itself, it is not seen.

For Sirius, the image of fire was like a pulsating orange ball of light, and the image of water was like a transparent fluid.

What does the wind think?

He couldn't imagine what the wind looked like, because the wind has no shape.

You can only think about what the wind has done: the hair blowing in the wind, the robes fluttering, the feeling of it patting your face, and then let magic chase after it.

But these are not forms. Following the touch and following the image are two completely different things. Form intuition is useless at this step; you have to rely on precise control of the magic itself.

Sirius is still a bit lacking.

He exhaled, pressed his wand down, and then waved it to the side, casually, lightly, and gracefully, as if he were doing something nonchalant, and the whole gust of wind was flung away.

But in Regulus's eyes, nothing was more conspicuous.

It drifted across half the office, all the way to the corner of the bookshelf, knocking over the dried flowers in the slender-necked vase on the mantel, before finally landing in the shadows under the bookshelf.

It broke apart as soon as it hit the ground, turning back into a bottle stopper, rolling a long way before finally stopping after hitting a wall.

Sirius glanced in that direction, then quickly looked away, his expression nonchalant.

Regulus pretended not to see it.

Three transformations: from wood to fire, then to water, and finally to wind. One object underwent four transformations.

These flames, water, and wind are all created by transformation, unlike spells that conjure fire, water, and wind out of thin air.

Fire that appears out of thin air is a pure magical effect; magic power is directly converted into heat and light. It extinguishes as soon as the spell is broken, and has no basis in anything.

But the transformed ones are different. The bottle stopper still has its mass, but its shape has been rewritten. It has changed from a solid to a flame, from a flame to water, and from water to wind.

Natural elements, magic is merely the intermediary.

Similar to the skin transformation mentioned earlier, it's driven by magic, but the transformed object itself doesn't depend on magic for its existence.

As I said before, Sirius Black is fifteen years old and in the third grade.

To have achieved this much, in this very direction alone, is already far ahead of one's peers.

Just having the will, knowing where to focus your efforts, not finding it difficult, not being lazy, and coming to the professor's office all by yourself is remarkable enough.

Regulus looked at Sirius and said seriously, "Impressive."

Sirius grinned, his shoulders relaxed, and though his breathing wasn't quite steady, he raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

After Professor McGonagall and the brothers finished interacting, she picked up the quill pen that had been blown askew from the table and placed it back on the pen rack.

She looked at Sirius, her tone as serious as when she was teaching: "Your transformation of the dragon scales is better than last time. You can now accurately reproduce the shape, arrangement, and texture of the scales."

Sirius straightened up.

"Your intuition about form is very good," the professor said, then changed the subject, "but you've only changed the surface. The next step is not to rush to cover a large area, but to solidify a small section first."

Let the transformation seep in from the surface, into the muscle layer, into the bone layer, until it becomes a part of your body, until that point—"

She shook her head slightly and didn't continue.

Sirius was waiting to hear what would happen next, but after waiting for a long time without any response, he was a little confused.

What happens when we get to that point?

He turned to look at Regulus, but Regulus's gaze was unfocused, and he didn't look at him.

Regulus knew what the next step was: the transformation of magic itself, the wizard's, the dragon's.

But to be honest, that step is still too far for Sirius.

The professor's silence is correct; this guy is not one to listen to advice. He tries to do things on his own before he's up to the task, which can easily lead to problems.

It's better not to know at all, focus on the present, and consider this later when you're older and have a better grasp of the situation.

"Elemental transformation," the professor's voice continued, his tone slightly relaxed, "allowing for continuous conversion between three elements; it's highly adaptable."

Sirius Black put the half-finished sentence he had just uttered out of his mind and sat up straight again.

"These three elements have no fixed outline. The fact that you can maintain their shape shows that your intuition about the form of amorphous things is already expanding."

Mag then changed the subject again: "But the difficulty of elemental transformation lies not in its shape, but in its properties."

The characteristic of flame is combustion, the characteristic of water is flow, and the characteristic of wind is intangible and continuous movement.

The next step is to ensure that the transformed elements truly possess the characteristics of that element; fire is fire, and fire should burn, not just resemble fire.

Sirius nodded thoughtfully.

The professor looked at Sirius, his gaze less serious: "You're used to using your eyes to understand deformed objects—the patterns of dragon scales, the color of flames, the way water flows—these are all things that the eyes can capture."

The wind is invisible, so your final surge is no longer based on visual experience.

Regulus's eyebrows twitched.

In the professor's eyes, that was already considered to be a success. He thought that the last attempt was not a failure, but at most a half-finished product.

But then I thought about it again, and it made sense, since this guy was only fifteen.

He remained calm and listened attentively.

Sirius frowned and asked, "Then what do we rely on?"

The professor didn't answer directly. He flicked his finger, and a piece of parchment on the table floated up and hung in mid-air.

"Close your eyes."

Sirius closed his eyes.

"Tell me, is this paper moving or not?"

Sirius Black paused for a moment, then hesitated before asking, "...Move?"

The professor then asked, "How do you move?"

Sirius answered a little faster this time: "Falling down, very soon—"

Then she immediately changed her tune: "No, it's very slow, it sways from side to side as it floats down."

"Open your eyes."

The parchment was swaying and falling, exactly as he had sensed.

Sirius Black stared, stunned, as the paper landed on the table.

"This is the next step," McGonagall said with a hint of satisfaction, "to capture the existence of shapeshifting objects not with our eyes, but with our magical perception."

She pulled a thin booklet from the drawer, with a brown leather cover and little framing; it looked like a handwritten notebook. She pushed it toward Sirius.

"Take this book home and read it. It contains exercises on sensory extension. Come back and ask me after you've finished reading it."

Sirius stood up, took a step forward, accepted the gift with both hands, and bowed his head: "Thank you, Professor."

After sitting back down, he looked down and flipped through some things, then became quiet, unusually so.

Then he carefully slipped the booklet into the inner pocket of his robe.

Regulus watched from the side, and suddenly the scene Lily had told him flashed through his mind.

They ambushed Snape in the corridor, disarmed him, petrified him, and then leaned against the wall to watch the show.

That's incredibly tasteless.

But when kids fight, there's no such thing as a fair fight.

A fight is a fight. As long as you win, that's all that matters. Who says you have to bow to each other before you fight? It's not a duel.

There's nothing wrong with a sneak attack; to be precise, it's an underestimated tactical option.

It saves time and effort, and the results are good.

He even thought Sirius should always maintain this style: avoid direct confrontations and always use sneak attacks to increase his survival rate.

Moreover, from another perspective, Snape was at least not beaten again after being petrified, and Sirius's action was actually protecting Snape from further harm.

Anyway, the kids are so motivated and haven't neglected their studies. What's wrong with a little fighting to relax?

What's a little Snape blocking the way? Just treat it as a break between classes.

Besides, Lily disarmed Potter, which indirectly helped Snape vent his anger, so she didn't lose out either way.

McGonagall gathered the parchment on the table, aligned the corners, and set it aside.

Then he raised his head and looked at Regulus, his eyes questioning.

Are you alright? If you are, speak quickly.

Professor Regulus nodded slightly.

Then, turning to Sirius, her tone remained gentle: "You can go out now."

Sirius was stunned. He looked at Sirius with his gray eyes, blinked once, and then blinked again.

He didn't react for a while.

Who are you?

What does that mean?

On what grounds?

These three thoughts were clearly displayed on his face, finally settling on a single expression.

Are you fucking kidding me?

He didn't move. Not only did he not move, he leaned back forcefully, twisted his neck to one side, and remained silent.

The last time Regulus asked about spatial distortion in this office, he sat next to him and watched from beginning to end, without hiding anything from him.

What happened this time?

What can't I let him hear? What questions can I ask him behind his back? Was it okay last time, but not this time?

A determined look appeared on Sirius's face.

The professor didn't say anything, and you, Blake, are telling me to leave?

He exhaled air from his nostrils, his lips were tightly pursed, and his cheeks were puffed out.

Regulus looked at him, without urging, explaining, or coaxing him, and his expression remained unchanged, still gentle.

The office was quiet for a while.

Professor McGonagall turned her gaze away from Regulus and onto Sirius.

She roughly guessed that Regulus was not going to talk about Transfiguration next.

"Mr. Blake," the professor's voice regained its usual seriousness, "you may leave now."

Sirius Black suddenly turned his head, first glancing at the professor, his mouth agape, then turning to look at Regulus, and then back at the professor.

The professor's face remained expressionless; he simply conveyed to him with his eyes that there was no room for negotiation.

Sirius Black's face was filled with disbelief.

When did these two become partners?

One told him to leave, and the other told him to leave as well; they cooperated quite well.

His mouth closed, then opened again, then closed again.

He didn't dare to lash out at McGonagall; he wouldn't dare to act arrogantly in front of the professor even if he had a hundred lives.

But Chong Regulus, he's too daring.

He stood up, and Chongregulus snorted heavily, his words ringing out: "Fine, I'll go!"

She was just a little aggrieved that she didn't dare to show it in front of the professor.

Then he turned and walked towards the door, but he walked slowly and dawdled for a while.

When he realized that no one had changed their mind, he glared at Regulus and strode out.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, then stopped after a few moments.