The First Cry of Magic

Four months later, March 1964.

Walburga hosted a tea party, ostensibly a spring gathering for the ladies, but in truth, it was Walburga showing off her sons' growth to her sisters.

Thirteen-year-old Bellatrix arrived first. She wore a Dark Green Velvet dress, her hair meticulously arranged, her gaze so critical it seemed as though she intended to find fault with everyone.

"I heard you blew up the living room." She walked straight over to Sirius.

Sirius lifted his chin. "I can control Magic Power now!"

Nine-year-old Andromeda and eight-year-old Narcissa entered behind their mother, Druella. Andromeda gave Regulus a gentle smile, while Narcissa inspected the living room's new decorations.

The tea party began. The adults discussed tedious subjects: personnel changes at the Ministry of Magic, the engagement of some Pureblood family's daughter, how the groom's bloodline was not pure enough, though his wealth made up for it.

The children sat at a smaller table set aside for them, with children's Tableware laid out before them. Sirius was restless, eager to show off the Magic he had recently learned.

Regulus, meanwhile, was considering a question. Why did a Transfiguration spell require imagining a specific form? What would happen if I merely wanted to alter a substance's state without specifying a particular shape?

"Watch this." Sirius concentrated and stared at his silver spoon.

Magic Power surged forth.

The spoon began to bend. Good, the curve was elegant.

But Sirius was too excited. Just a little more. That'll look even better!

He poured out more Magic Power, and the spoon bent too far.

It was a mistake. He glanced at Bellatrix to see whether she had noticed, and in that single glance, his control over his Magic Power slipped.

The flow of Magic Power became like a burst dam, crashing into the entire set of Tableware.

Regulus suddenly sensed the violent fluctuation of Magic Power. He looked up just in time to see every piece of silver instruments on the small table begin to change color. The silvery white faded, flesh-pink emerged, and ringed patterns appeared across their surfaces.

They had turned into earthworms.

Twelve fat, flesh-pink earthworms writhed across the tablecloth.

The adults had already been drawn by the commotion. Walburga's face had gone from red to white.

Druella put down her Teacup, her expression stiff.

Bellatrix arched a brow, covered her mouth in feigned surprise, and let out an affected, "Ah."

Sirius froze. He stared at his handiwork, his lips trembling.

"I..." He opened his mouth, but embarrassment kept him from saying anything.

Walburga's hand reached for her wand. Regulus saw the fury in his mother's eyes. It was not merely anger over the ruined tea party, but shame at losing face before her sisters.

Trouble, Regulus thought. If she loses her temper, the tea party will end on a sour note, Sirius will be punished, and I'll have to listen to her complain for another three days.

He stood and walked to the small table, looking down at the mass of writhing creatures.

I have to admit, these earthworms were Transfigured quite completely, he assessed inwardly.

First, analyze the structure. His brain began working automatically. The Transfiguration spell had not completely destroyed the material foundation; it had merely rearranged the molecular structure.

The silver atoms were still there. The memory-metal effect should still be there too. The key was finding the last stable shape-memory from before the Transfiguration...

He raised his hand, palm down, hovering ten centimeters above the earthworms, and began channeling Magic Power.

Unlike the way ordinary wizards channeled Magic Power, Regulus had discovered that he could control his Magic Power with microscopic precision.

He did not even need to rely on emotion to drive Spellcasting as conventional wizards did. He relied on calculation. His brain could automatically construct multidimensional models, calculate the flow of Magic Power, and adjust the output frequency.

It was like having a Supercomputer in his head. He had once mocked himself for it. Maybe this is one of those transmigrator perks.

The next moment, Silver Light shone from inside the earthworms. They stopped writhing and rose one by one, arranging themselves into a perfect hexagon in midair.

The hexagon is stable. It fits the optimal distribution of Magic Power.

Bellatrix leaned forward, her eyes widening.

Narcissa covered her mouth in surprise.

Andromeda softly said, "Merlin..."

The reversal of the Transfiguration began. The earthworms contracted and stretched, silver luster shining through from within.

Ten seconds later, the Tableware had returned to normal, floating in the air as Silver Light flowed over their surfaces.

Regulus twitched his Fingers, and the Tableware followed the shortest paths, avoiding every obstacle as it returned neatly to its original places.

Spoons, forks, Dinner Knives, Teacups, saucers, and small plates, not a fraction out of place.

Last came the bent spoon. Its crease was deep; the metal had fatigued.

Regulus extended his index finger and lightly touched the crease.

The metal's crystal structure needed to be rearranged. It had to be heated locally to the recrystallization temperature without exceeding the melting point. Magic Power simulated thermal effects, its frequency adjusted to resonate with the silver atoms.

The crease began to vanish, the atoms returning to their original positions as though time were flowing backward.

Five seconds later, the spoon was flawless as new.

Regulus withdrew his hand, returned to his seat, and picked up the biscuit he had not finished earlier. His expression remained blank throughout, giving no one the impression that he had deliberately been showing off.

Still, he felt immensely pleased with himself. As expected of me!

"Merlin's beard!" Druella blurted out, nearly dropping her Teacup.

Bellatrix stood and walked to the small table, picking up the spoon for inspection. She turned it over, held it to the light, and tapped it with her fingernail, producing a crisp metallic ring.

She looked up at Regulus, her eyes full of shock. "You... how did you do that?"

Regulus chewed his biscuit and mumbled, "They wanted to change back."

"What?"

"The Tableware wanted to become Tableware again. I just helped."

The explanation was laughably childish, but coming from a three-year-old, it seemed perfectly normal instead.

Of course I know how I did it, Regulus thought. But I can do it without being able to explain it.

Wizards could accomplish many unbelievable things through instinct and talent. But at my age, if I could not only do it but even explain the principles behind it, that would be far too abnormal.

Narcissa whispered to Andromeda, "He made it look easy."

Andromeda nodded, a trace of concern in her eyes.

Walburga's expression changed rapidly: shock, confusion, then wild delight.

But she restrained herself. The mistress of the Black family could not lose her composure before outsiders.

She merely lifted her Teacup, took a sip, and said as calmly as possible, "Regulus has a special intuition for Transfiguration."

Druella gave a somewhat forced dry laugh. "Special? Walburga, this is a miracle. He's only three! What was Orion doing when he was three? He was still smearing jam on the House-elves."

Everyone's gaze drifted toward Regulus from time to time, while he simply ate his biscuit quietly, as if nothing had happened.

Sirius had kept his head lowered the entire time. Regulus glanced at him and knew this had wounded his pride.

After the tea party ended, Druella left with her daughters, leaving only the family behind in the living room.

Walburga finally could not contain herself. She scooped Regulus into her arms. "My genius!"

Excitedly, she said into her son's ear, "I knew it! The future of the Black family!"

Over his mother's shoulder, he saw Sirius.

Sirius stood at the living room doorway, one hand clutching the doorframe. It was hard to imagine a four-year-old could wear such a complicated expression: shock, hurt, confusion, and perhaps even a little jealousy.

Double trouble, Regulus thought. A four-year-old doesn't understand doing something out of necessity. He only knows his little brother stole the spotlight from him.

Sirius turned and ran away, his footsteps thudding up the stairs.

Walburga put Regulus down and frowned. "He's throwing another tantrum. Don't mind him, Regulus. You did the right thing."

He's only four, Regulus thought, but he did not say it aloud. After all, he himself was only three.

That night, Orion knocked on Regulus's door. He had only just returned home. As a member of the Wizengamot, he often worked late.

"I heard about what happened today." Orion sat across from Regulus. "Exquisite skill."

"How did you do it?" he asked.

Regulus thought for three seconds before giving an answer. "I don't know. I just... saw what needed to be done."

"Saw?" Orion was puzzled. This was not an answer he had expected.

"I saw what the earthworms originally looked like, so I made them change back."

Orion stared at him thoughtfully. This could be explained as talent—rare, but not unheard of.

Sirius's power was strong but uncontrollable, born from emotional instability.

By comparison, Regulus displayed a greater inclination toward control and precise manipulation.

"An interesting explanation," he finally said. "But remember, do not show too much in front of others. Genius invites jealousy, and it invites fear as well."

"Bellatrix looked very excited." Regulus steered the conversation toward Bellatrix.

"Bellatrix..." Orion frowned. "She is obsessed with power, and that important figure who is rising is also obsessed with power. Be careful not to catch their attention."

Regulus nodded. Of course he knew who that important figure was: Tom Riddle, the future Voldemort.