Barking Loudly and Making a List

Regulus watched Sirius walk over from the crowd.

He wore a black leather jacket over a dark gray sweatshirt, with a white T-shirt peeking out from the collar. His jeans were tucked into black Doc Martens, and his hair was loose and slightly disheveled by the wind.

He was dressed as Muggle, but it didn't look out of place on him; in fact, it was quite pleasing to the eye.

The last time he was at this station, Sirius looked miserable and resentful, his brows furrowed, as if the whole world owed him something.

This time was better; he walked more freely, his shoulders weren't hunched over, and although he didn't have much of a smile on his face, he didn't have that expression that said he was ready to fight the whole world.

Sirius walked up to him and stopped.

When Kreacher saw Sirius, his body visibly stiffened.

Its long ears twitched twice, then it quickly resumed its standard respectful posture and bowed.

"Eldest Young Master," Kreacher's voice trembled slightly, a little excited, "Eldest Young Master is home too... The Master and the Master will be happy!" Sirius's lips twitched, a forced smile.

He didn't believe a word Kreacher said, but he couldn't be bothered to correct him.

Happy?

If Walburga saw him, he would probably just snort coldly; Orion might glance at him, or he might not.

But Kreacher thought they would be happy.

Kreacher straightened up, extended his fingers, and prepared to touch the two men's trouser legs.

Sirius moved aside.

Kreacher's finger froze in mid-air. He looked up at Sirius, his eyes filled with confusion. "Eldest Young Master?"

Sirius ignored it and turned to look at Regulus.

He has a complete aversion to the House-elf as a species.

It wasn't directed at Kreacher Benche; Kreacher just happened to be House-elf, happened to be from the Black family, and happened to have been running around with him since he was little.

He disliked the way these creatures existed—lacking self and freedom, driven by instinct to obey, and taking enslavement as their calling. This made him extremely uncomfortable.

"You said last time," Sirius said casually, staring at Regulus, "Apparition is the basic introduction to Spatial Transfiguration." Regulus glanced at him, knowing what he was going to say.

"Let me experience it."

Regulus's lips twitched slightly.

Good idea.

Apparition was practically as easy for Regulus as walking.

During the journey, his perception of space changed from an initial rough feeling of compression to precise, quantifiable structural information.

With each Apparition, space has a shape in his perception; he can sense where it contracts and expands, the degree of contraction, and the speed of expansion.

Taking people with you is certainly not difficult; Side-Along Apparition something anyone can easily do. The key lies in the passenger experience.

He can minimize the space compression process and make the passageway as smooth as possible, making passengers less uncomfortable.

Alternatively, the process of compressing and stretching space can be unfolded layer by layer, allowing passengers to fully experience every force exerted on them by the space.

"Would you like a smooth experience, or an unstable one?" Regulus asked.

Sirius paused, then frowned. "What do you mean? Apparition of distinction?"

He opened his mouth, about to ask, "Is it stable?"

Before he could finish asking, Regulus grabbed his arm, his fingers tightening, and told Kreacher, "Go back yourself."

The next moment, space contracted.

The first thing Sirius felt was ear pressure; something was squeezing his head from the outside in, causing his temples to throb and his ears to ring.

Then it's the body, starting from the chest and squeezing inwards, the air in the lungs is being forced out layer by layer, trying to inhale but unable to, as if the entire chest cavity is being squeezed.

The strangest sensation was on his skin, like a thousand fingers pressing in from all directions at the same time. It didn't hurt, but it was so dense that it made him shiver. It didn't last long, maybe two or three seconds, but during those two or three seconds, he felt like a tube was being inserted into him, and the tube was twisting and shrinking as it twisted.

Regulus gave it a medium level.

It wasn't to torment him, though maybe a little, but mainly to let him fully experience the process of spatial travel.

If everything is compressed to the absolute minimum, most of the spatial changes will be smoothed out, and you won't feel anything when you pass through, which would be a waste of time. Leaving some folds and some compression will allow his body to remember what it feels like to travel through space, which will become the most direct reference for him to learn Apparition in the future.

Regulus himself felt nothing at all; it was as if he had taken a step.

Baruk in her arms didn't react at all.

Last time, he deliberately held back a bit to minimize the pressure, and the spider still gagged for a while, but at least it didn't spray out any silk. This time, it's more or less used to it.

So the only one who's truly suffering is Sirius.

Landing on the steps outside 12 Grimmauld Place.

Sirius was bent over, his hands on his knees, making a series of indistinct sounds in his throat.

He took almost half a minute to straighten up, his face a little pale, with a little saliva left on the corner of his mouth from gagging.

He looked at Regulus, his teeth bared. "Is this steady or unstable?"

Regulus stood to the side, his robes perfectly smooth, his breathing even, his hands hanging at his sides, a faint smile on his face, the corners of his mouth slightly curved.

"Things are relatively stable," he said.

Sirius glared at him, spitting out a curse word, "Shift!"

A thin layer of frost covered the iron railings at the gate, and a few withered grasses peeked out from the cracks in the stone steps. The black gate stood imposing in the night. The gate opened from the inside, and Kreacher stepped out, bowing slightly as he stepped aside. "Young masters, please come in."

Sirius glanced at the open door, then at Kreacher, and finally at Regulus.

He frowned, his eyes clear, his face full of confusion. "Why not just go inside?"

Regulus glanced at him, shook his head slightly, didn't answer, and stepped inside.

Stupid question.

Apparition could get into the Black family's old house, that would be terrible!

The Anti-Apparition Charm at 12 Grimmauld Place has been reinforced over generations, effectively locking the entire house in place.

His Starry Sky Kite could force its way through, but that was an exception; ordinary Apparition couldn't get through, and he didn't want to disturb that defense every time he went home. Sirius didn't even know this, which just shows that he really didn't listen to any of the Black history stories that Walburga told him when he was a child. Not only that, he also lacked common sense, and not only did he lack common sense, he also didn't use his brain.

Sirius made a face behind him, his mouth twisted, and then followed him inside.

Kreacher closed the door behind him, the lock clicking shut with a muffled thud that echoed through the Corridor.

It was already dark. The fireplace in the Entrance Hall was burning, and the green flames cast a dim light on the Portrait on the wall, Black were looking towards the doorway.

Footsteps came from the direction of the living room, and Walburga walked over from the other end of the Corridor.

She wore a dark green robe, with the Black family crest embroidered on her left breast, and Sirius Brooch at her collar that flashed briefly in the firelight. Her attire was impeccable, her makeup impeccable, and her hair was styled in a neat updo, without a single stray hair; there was nothing wrong with it.

Even at home, the Master of the Black family maintained her elegance.

In the past, when Regulus came home, Walburga would almost always run to greet him.

Her steps were hurried, her voice loud, and her outstretched hand seemed to carry the wind, as if she wanted to pull her son into her arms, repeatedly calling out "My Reggie" and "My good son."

This time she didn't run away.

She came out of the living room, walking at a moderate pace, stopping in the middle of the Entrance Hall. Her hands were folded in front of her, her chin held high, her lips pursed, and her gaze fixed on Regulus, with a deliberate air of composure.

"Regulus," she said, her voice lacking its former fervor, "You're back."

She came up and hugged me, placing her arm around me lightly, as if performing a ritual.

Then he let go, took a half step back, and his eyes conveyed a sense that said, "You know why I did this."

Regulus stood there, letting her embrace him and let her release him, his expression unchanged the entire time.

He saw right through her scheme.

Because of what happened with Bellatrix, because she felt he should listen to her more, and listen to Bellatrix more, now that he's back, she wants him to know she's not as demanding as she thought, but she won't say it directly; she'll express it through this attitude.

She thought that curbing her enthusiasm was punishment, that reducing her attention was putting pressure on him, as if he would panic, offer explanations, and back down if she didn't act so eager.

But she didn't know that her son didn't need her enthusiasm, nor was he afraid of her indifference.

She probably doesn't realize that her methods only work on those who genuinely care about her feelings.

Those who care will be led by the nose; those who don't care are merely putting on a show, not even worthy of being considered clever.

In fact, no one in this family, except Kreacher, cared.

But he wouldn't say it; there was no need, and besides, she was his mother.

It doesn't affect his interactions with her.

He knew exactly what she wanted, what she cared about, and where her bottom line was, and could always give her a response that satisfied her. Sirius stood on the other side of the Entrance Hall, leaning against the wall, his hands in his jacket pockets.

He watched this scene with a slight smile playing on his lips, as if he were enjoying a good show.

He knew all too well how Walburga used to greet Regulus —the way she practically wanted to use Sonorus to let all the wizards in London know her son was back, rushing over to hug him and pull him into her arms.

He found it disgusting.

What's going on now?

He mentally compared this incident to what Regulus had said by the lake.

He'll be busy during the holiday; he needs to calm down.

Then Walburga greeted Regulus with this attitude; the two events happened too close together.

Is that all there is to it?

Walburga?

wrong.

What Walburga cared about most was the Black family's reputation and the honor of Pure-bloods.

Regulus had never embarrassed her in these matters, at least not to his knowledge.

Who is she giving that look to?

Therefore, Regulus must have done something she knew about but disapproved of, but he just didn't know what it was.

He thought about it for a while, but couldn't come up with an answer.

I decided to stop thinking about it. Anyway, I'm home now. Regulus said we'll talk about it when we get home, so I'll just ask him later.

Walburga released Regulus and turned to walk towards the dining room. "Dinner is ready."

He didn't look at Sirius even once throughout the entire process.

Sirius was happy to be off easy. After Walburga had walked away, he sidled up to Regulus, lowered his voice, and said in a very sarcastic tone, "Baby Reggie, does Mommy not like you anymore?"

His expression was extremely irritating, with raised eyebrows, a smirk, and eyes full of mockery.

Regulus ignored him and walked straight into the living room.

They're making a big fuss now, but we'll have to make a list later.