Two Different Experiences

The wooden door closed behind them, cutting off the chill from the corridor.

Lucretia set down her schoolbag and surveyed the Transfiguration diagrams on the walls and the workbench.

Complex patterns she had seen before in Little Barty and Regulus's Ancient Runes books shimmered along the edge of the workbench, flickering with the changing light as though alive.

"About the leaf charm exercise Dumbledore taught last week, Regulus and I both thought this was the most suitable place."

Little Barty draped an arm around her shoulders and led her toward the central workbench, with Regulus naturally following behind.

A row of familiar silver tools lay neatly arranged on the workbench.

Lucretia picked up a small silver knife, then paused when her fingertips touched the familiar engraving on its handle.

Her name was engraved into the silver surface in elegant script.

Lucretia looked up. "This is the set you bought for me! Wasn't it in my dormitory? How did it get here?"

Little Barty turned toward the workbench. "This room can provide tools, but your set is better suited for delicate work. I had the school House-elves bring it over beforehand."

As he spoke, he took a full green velvet pouch from his schoolbag, shook out several leaves, spread them across the table, and pointed at an oak leaf streaked gold and red around the edges.

"I made some preparations after class the day before yesterday. These are tougher than ordinary leaves, so they're better for making charms."

Regulus leaned closer to inspect them, then looked up at Little Barty with teasing in his eyes. "These are leaves from the ancient oak at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Did you pick them after training this weekend? Specifically for today?"

Little Barty scratched behind his ear awkwardly and swiftly changed the subject. "I was passing by. Regulus, didn't you say you had the House-elves send over the Black family's materials?"

Regulus raised a brow with a smile and pulled an old booklet from his schoolbag. "Of course. The Black family library always has something useful. Little sister, I found several pages specifically discussing Transfiguration that preserves a material's essential nature."

The three gathered around the workbench, preparing to attempt the Transfiguration spell Professor Dumbledore had taught them.

Lucretia stood in the middle, with Little Barty and Regulus on either side, their usual arrangement.

Regulus opened the book to an illustrated page. "Ancient Transfiguration masters believed that the material's will was key. It says you can't force a change, but must guide it toward revealing new possibilities."

Lucretia picked up an oak leaf. "Just as Headmaster Dumbledore said—cooperate with magic rather than control it."

Little Barty's mouth tightened as he drew his wand, his movements crisp. "But cooperation is more complicated. It makes the variables harder to control. We should each try it separately and see which method is more practical."

Each of them selected a leaf and took a place before the workbench.

"Headmaster Dumbledore said that we need to transform part of the material's structure while preserving its Life characteristics..."

Lucretia closed her eyes nervously and felt the leaf's veins and vitality with her fingertips.

Little Barty raised his wand. "Let's begin. Regulus, remember Dumbledore's incantation."

The Transfiguration did not go smoothly at first.

On Regulus's first attempt, the edge of the leaf had barely begun to turn silver before the entire thing carbonized and crumbled into ash.

He rubbed his nose awkwardly, picked up the notes the two of them had organized, and reread them several times.

Little Barty shook his head unhappily and replaced his leaf with a fresh one.

He adjusted his stance again, his wrist taut. "Watch the balance of the transformation speed. Dumbledore specifically emphasized that the edges need to be fully metalized, while the interior must remain alive."

Fifteen minutes passed. Sweat had already beaded on Regulus's forehead. He tossed his wand onto the workbench, sighed, and pulled out a restorative potion from his robe pocket before drinking it down.

"This is too difficult. I've never felt so drained in Transfiguration Class."

Little Barty continued trying as well. After more than ten attempts, the edges of one leaf finally transformed into flawless silver, smooth as a mirror without a single blemish.

He held his breath and carefully pushed the Transfiguration toward the center.

Then the entire leaf suddenly stiffened, changing from green to a lifeless gray as every sign of vitality vanished in an instant.

Another small pile of useless ash.

Little Barty stared at the ashes, a vein throbbing in his forehead.

He looked at his own failed attempt, then at the equally small pile of ash on Regulus's workbench, and finally snapped.

"Damn it."

He threw his wand onto the workbench with a sharp clatter.

Then he reached over, grabbed Regulus's restorative potion, and tipped it back.

"My magic is overextended. This kind of Transfiguration has nothing to do with precision control."

Lucretia's situation was the complete opposite of theirs.

She could preserve the leaf's vitality at its center, but whenever she tried to harden the edges, her magic stalled.

She lowered her wand in frustration. "I'd like to have your level of control. But from the edges to the center, it's like two different kinds of magic are repelling each other."

Regulus sighed. "Let's rest for a while. I remember the Transfiguration diagrams on the wall mentioning some trick for controlling the degree of transformation in every inch."

Twenty minutes later, amid more than a dozen empty restorative potion bottles, the three of them finally completed one barely passable piece each.

Little Barty's charm had perfectly silver edges, but the green center had nearly vanished, leaving only faint patterns.

He picked up the charm, then tossed it back onto the workbench with an unhappy expression. "Too rigid. It's like it died before it was even born."

Regulus's work retained more green, and its leafy texture was obvious, but its edges were uneven and cracked.

He flicked the charm with a fingernail, producing an ominous brittle sound. "That's still better than mine. Mine looks like it'll die the moment it's born."

Lucretia's charm was incredibly vibrant at the center. The green part of the leaf even trembled faintly with her breathing, but the outer edge was so soft it looked ready to melt, with barely any metalization at all. She could not help pouting.

"Mine's even softer. It looks like it has heatstroke."

Little Barty adjusted his expression, walked to her side, and put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

"At least you preserved the most important part—the vitality. It's much better than mine. Mine turned completely into metal."

Regulus arranged the three charms in the center of the table and looked thoughtfully at the other two.

"Each one has flaws. But you know, I remember reading somewhere that magic has a fundamental principle called complementary balance."

Lucretia thought for a moment and made a quiet suggestion. "Brother Regulus, do you mean we should combine our strengths and try together?"

Little Barty asked, "What do you mean?"

There was a trace of hesitation in her voice. "You control the form, Brother Regulus balances the structure, and I... I'll do my best to preserve the vitality?"

Little Barty considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Let's try it."

The three of them took up their familiar triangular formation once more.

Little Barty shook several surviving gold-and-red oak leaves from the velvet pouch and carefully placed them at the center of the workbench.

"Ready?"

Lucretia nodded, her throat tight.

The three of them spoke the incantation at once, and light blossomed at the tips of their wands.

Little Barty's magic surged toward the leaf, silver light like threads attempting to draw the entire leaf under his control.

Regulus's blue magic tried to establish balance between them, supple as flowing water, but Little Barty's advance kept scattering it apart. It barely gathered again before being scattered once more.

Lucretia's green magic wrapped around the center of the leaf, protecting that spark of life.

As Little Barty's magic pressed forward step by step, she could feel herself being squeezed smaller and smaller.

The leaf began to tremble, giving off a faint hissing sound.

Regulus sounded nervous. "Relax, Barty. You're going to scatter all my magic. Since when did you have such a strong need for control?"

Little Barty shot him a glare and gritted his teeth. "I'm trying to relax, but there's no order to this at all."

Lucretia looked at him. "Barty. Don't fight Brother Regulus. Let your magic flow together, like rivers flowing into a lake."

Under her gaze, Little Barty's shoulders relaxed slightly.

Reluctantly, but he did weaken his magic.

In that brief moment, Regulus immediately seized the opportunity. His magic found a point of support, and Lucretia's vitality gained a solid foundation.

Lucretia could feel her magic gradually blending with Little Barty's and Regulus's, supporting one another.

The three streams of magic began to merge.

Silver, blue, and green intertwined in the air, forming a flowing halo of light.

Little Barty provided boundaries and form, Regulus connected and balanced, and Lucretia preserved the pulse of life.

Lucretia could feel the leaf beating within the magic, as though it had a heartbeat of its own.

She could feel the magical intent of the other two.

Little Barty wanted to protect and shape, while Regulus wanted harmony and perfection.

And they could feel her desire to preserve that vivid vitality.

It was as though the three of them had found their own parts within the same piece of music.

The feeling reminded her of that night in the East Tower, when she and Sirius had stabilized the potion together.

Their magic had merged then too, but...

Her hand paused over the charm.

That time had been different.

From the very beginning, Sirius's magic had worked with hers. There had been no struggle, no contest.

His power had surrounded hers, protective without controlling, supportive without interfering.

It had been like dancing, their steps naturally fitting together.

But this time...

She looked at Little Barty, who was inspecting the charm's edges.

This time, it was cooperation achieved through persuasion, a balance reached under Regulus's mediation.

Little Barty had restrained his need for control.

Both experiences were precious, but they stirred her magical instincts in different ways.