The Black Brothers

Cola, let, always a chapter ahead.

Regulus raised an eyebrow in slight surprise.

His immediate thought was that Sirius had done something wrong and had been caught by the professor, and was being scolded right now.

He looked Sirius up and down, observing whether he showed any obvious tension or defensiveness, or any signs of dejection after being scolded.

Look at his posture, his expression, and where his hands are placed.

But Sirius wasn't there to be scolded; he had actually been to Professor McGonagall's several times already.

Ever since Professor McGonagall kept him behind after his Transfiguration class, saying he had a talent for Morphing Intuition and giving him the book "Advanced Transfiguration: The Limits of Shape," he went back and studied it carefully.

The more he read, the more interesting it became. When he didn't understand something, he would ask Professor McGonagall for help. After asking, he would go back and practice, and then ask again. This had become his regular routine recently.

James knew, Lupin knew, they both said he'd changed recently, that he'd become much quieter.

Sirius himself couldn't explain why, but after opening that book, he felt an irresistible curiosity, a desire to practice and understand, so he did it.

Before, they would just listen in class and leave after class, but now they will take the initiative to ask McGonagall for help, and the questions they ask are more in-depth than before.

The Transfiguration itself didn't become more difficult, but he had already begun to delve deeper into it.

This enthusiasm was completely different from his previous indifferent attitude in class.

He could feel it himself.

Sirius's expression changed slightly when he saw Regulus enter, and his body stiffened slightly.

He stared at that face, and a very absurd feeling popped into his head.

It's like someone who's been secretly working hard behind the scenes, only to be caught off guard by the person they least want to know about, leaving them unsure of what expression to make.

He knew the gap between himself and Regulus was enormous, but after being recognized by Professor McGonagall, his competitive spirit resurfaced.

He wasn't trying to compare himself to Regulus; he just felt he couldn't be too far behind.

So he secretly put in the effort to practice Transfiguration, and he practiced it more diligently than anyone else.

As a result, Regulus caught them practicing.

A mix of emotions welled up inside him—a little guilty, a little flustered, and a little embarrassed at having been seen through.

He subconsciously sat up a little straighter, took his hands off the table and placed them on his knees, glanced to the side, and then looked back.

He stared at the parchment on the table, pretending to read its contents, but he didn't actually absorb anything.

His facial expression was somewhere between wanting to appear indifferent and not having had a chance to, stuck in the middle, which was a bit odd.

Regulus, observing his expression, felt he had discovered a key point.

He looked at Sirius, at his expression, at his restless demeanor—

This guy must have gotten into trouble. The professor caught him red-handed, and he's probably feeling guilty now that he's seen him come in.

Regulus glanced at Professor McGonagall, McGonagall was sitting behind her desk with a quill pen in her hand and half-written annotations on the parchment in front of her.

Sirius was already a handful in Grimmauld Place, and he's still the same at school.

At that moment, he felt that as a family member, he should say something.

He walked in and gave Professor McGonagall a polite nod. "Professor, excuse me, I have a few questions about Spatial Transfiguration that I would like to ask you. If it's not convenient now, I can reschedule."

After saying that, he turned his head and glanced at Sirius, his expression gentle, with the patience of an elder looking at a junior, and a hint of apology. "I'm sorry, Professor, Sirius has caused you trouble."

Professor McGonagall looked up at Regulus, her expression somewhat inexplicable and strange.

Her gaze lingered on his face for a moment, then shifted to Sirius, before returning to him. A slight upturn of her lips appeared, but she quickly suppressed it, as if she wanted to laugh but didn't.

She didn't say anything or make any movement, but something flashed in her eyes. In the end, she just pushed up her glasses, cleared her throat, and didn't speak immediately.

Sirius sat bolt upright in his chair, his face flushing red.

Anger and embarrassment each made up half of my feelings, along with a frustrating sense of "What the hell are you talking about?"

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but Regulus's serious expression left him momentarily at a loss for words in his rebuttal.

He glared at Regulus, then at Professor McGonagall, McGonagall barely suppressed laughter only fueled his anger.

He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the fire, but it didn't work. He took another breath, but still couldn't suppress it.

Regulus, observing his reaction, thought to himself, "This guy still has such a temper."

Professor McGonagall coughed lightly.

The usually serious Gryffindor headmaster had a clear smile in his eyes at this moment.

She sat upright, her robe without a single wrinkle, and her expression remained serious, but the lines at the corners of her eyes betrayed her.

"Mr. Black," she glanced at Sirius, then back at Regulus, "Sirius didn't make a mistake."

After she finished speaking, she paused, perhaps feeling that her statement was not precise enough.

He gave Sirius another stern look and added, "At least not this time."

Sirius was still standing there, his eyes wide open, staring straight at Regulus, his expression saying, "Did you hear that?"

Regulus glanced at Sirius with slight surprise, then turned back to Professor McGonagall, nodding earnestly, "Professor, thank you for your trouble."

A smile flickered in Professor McGonagall's eyes again.

Having taught at Hogwarts for so many years, she had seen all sorts of students, but these two Black in front of her were truly impressive.

It's widely believed that the two brothers have a strained relationship; one went to Gryffindor, and the other to Slytherin, reflecting differing family stances.

Sirius is a traitor to the Black family, having broken with the family and becoming estranged and hostile towards his brother.

That's what the rumor says, and it's not just a rumor; the two brothers really did have almost no interaction at school.

But what I'm seeing doesn't seem to be the case at all.

The first thing Mr. Black did upon entering was to apologize to the professor on behalf of his brother.

His tone was gentle, his attitude was considerate, and every move he made was impeccable; he was just like a parent.

A parent of a twelve-year-old.

McGonagall even wondered to herself, what's wrong with this child? How could the Black family raise someone like this?

Sirius stood to the side, watching Regulus and Professor McGonagall interact, feeling as if he were being publicly executed.

His face was burning hot, the tips of his ears were tingling, and he felt a lump in his throat that he couldn't exhale or swallow.

Regulus turned his head, glanced at him, his expression gentle and his tone patient. "Sit down. Don't be rude here with Professor McGonagall."

Sirius's eyes widened as he quickly scanned the table for anything that was there.

A quill pen, an ink bottle, a stack of books, and an eraser.

If you were to turn a quill into a maggot and stuff it into Regulus's mouth, how many steps would it take, and could you do it before the professor realized what was happening?

Then he saw Professor McGonagall looking at him from behind her glasses.

He sat down heavily, the chair legs making a dull thud on the stone floor.

Professor McGonagall ignored him and said to Regulus, "Please sit down, Mr. Black. In fact, you've come at the perfect time. I'm currently examining Sirius's Transfiguration; perhaps you'd like to take a look?"

Regulus glanced at Sirius again, then turned back to Professor McGonagall, nodding, "Thank you, Professor."

He sat down next to Sirius, the two chairs side by side, facing Professor McGonagall, one sitting upright, the other looking as if he might spring up at any moment.

Professor McGonagall glanced over and made a comparison in her mind.

Sirius's Magic Power was fluctuating violently, like a pot of boiling water, bubbling and overflowing, impossible to suppress.

Emotions and Magic Power were always one and the same to him; when he was happy, his Magic Power was active, and when he was angry, his Magic Power surged.

Regulus's Magic Power was gentle and stable, like a quietly flowing river, with no visible movement on the surface.

It's quite rare for people with the same surname and bloodline to exhibit almost completely opposite traits.

Emotional stability is not necessarily a good thing; sometimes it means alienation, or learning to hide oneself too early.

But in Magic, the control and consistency that stability brings is a real advantage.

Many wizards with considerable talent spend their entire lives battling their own emotions. Only by winning the battle can they unleash their power; if they lose, half of their abilities are wasted.

Characters like Sirius have emotions linked to Magic Power, and when they erupt, their power is astonishing.

But the ups and downs are significant, and it takes time to work things out. You need to channel some of that drive into something you can actually use, instead of letting emotions come and go as they please.

There's no such thing as one being better, only one being more suitable.

She had witnessed Sirius's progress and was satisfied with it; her intuition told her that his Morphing Intuition was a genuine talent.

It would be even better if they could be more honest.

She was aware of the pranks after class and the conflicts in the Corridor, but she didn't say it aloud; that was another matter.

She thought of Regulus again.

This child's understanding of Transfiguration has far exceeded the scope of the classroom.

Some of the questions he asked were ones she had to think about before she could answer, and she wasn't even sure what stage he had reached.

But she knew that Regulus was only showing her the part he was willing to show.

Someone who can tame Fiendfyre to that extent cannot only possess things that are upright and honorable.

His true abilities lay in what he didn't say, in what he couldn't show the professor.

But this isn't a bad thing; every wizard who goes too far has things they don't want to show to others.

Regardless, both brothers are talented and have distinct personalities.

Sirius is easy to understand: reckless, impulsive, acts without thinking, and doesn't even realize he's offended someone.

But he wasn't a bad person at heart. He hated injustice and bullying the weak, but sometimes he couldn't distinguish between what was injustice and what was bullying the weak.

His sense of justice is genuine; it's just that he expresses it in a problematic way.

Where is Regulus?

Professor McGonagall pondered for a moment, but couldn't find a suitable word.

What this child did has absolutely nothing to do with the word "justice."

But Albus said he has Patronus, Magical Creature version, who can travel through space.

Albus said he had light in his heart, and she trusted Albus judgment.

Professor McGonagall shook her head inwardly, suppressing the thought, and looked at Sirius, raising her hand.

"Let's begin, Mr. Black."

Sirius was still glaring at Regulus, a surge of anger welling up inside him, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Regulus's behavior just now made him feel very uncomfortable, as if he was there to be scolded and Regulus was there to cover for him.

But he didn't want to lose face in front of Regulus.

He hadn't wasted these past few months; his Transfiguration had improved, as Professor McGonagall herself had praised.

He wanted to show Regulus.

He wouldn't admit that he cared about Regulus's opinion, but he did want Regulus to see it.

He couldn't quite explain the feeling; it was just a strange feeling inside, but he didn't want to be looked down upon.

He remembered what Regulus had said during the holiday.

He discovered his talent: Transfiguration, which he was truly skilled at.

He's no longer the Sirius got knocked down by Regulus's punch in Grimmauld Place.

He took a deep breath and drew his wand.