Not Bad, but You Should Leave First

The bottle stopper is starting to Transfiguration and the edges are becoming loose.

The color changes accordingly; the light brown darkens, turns 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 emerged from 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 of the cork's fibrous structure left over from the Transfiguration 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 remained focused, his lips moving as he continued chanting the incantation, his wand twirling 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 that gathered in the hollow of the palm, held by Magic Power, 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 Power 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 Transfiguration 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, ripples on the lake's surface, and bent grass stems.

As for the wind itself, it is unseen.

For Sirius, the image of fire was like a pulsating orange Light Cluster, 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 Power chase after it.

But these are not forms. Following the touch and following the image are two completely different things. Morphing Intuition is useless at this step; you have to rely on precise control of the Magic Power 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 nothing at all—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 disintegrated upon hitting the ground, turning back into a bottle cork, 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 Transfiguration: 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 Transfiguration, unlike spells that conjure fire, water, and wind out of thin air.

Fire that appears out of thin air is a pure Magic effect; Magic Power is directly converted into heat and light, and it extinguishes as soon as the spell is broken, having no basis whatsoever.

But the Transfiguration ones are different. The bottle stopper still retains its quality, only its form has been rewritten, from solid to flame, from flame to water, and from water to wind.

Natural elements, Magic is merely the intermediary.

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

As I said before, Sirius is fifteen years old and in 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 in class. "The Transfiguration of the Dragon Scale is better than last time. You can now accurately reproduce the shape, arrangement, and texture of the scales."

Sirius straightened up.

"Your Morphing Intuition is excellent," the professor said, then changed the subject, "But you've only changed the surface. The next step isn't to rush into covering a large area, but to solidify a small section first."

Let the Transfiguration 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 after that point?

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

Regulus knew what the next step was: the Transfiguration of Magic Power itself, the wizard's, the Fire 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 easily leads to problems.

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

"Elemental Transfiguration," the professor's voice continued, his tone slightly softening, "It can continuously transform between three elements, demonstrating excellent adaptability."

Sirius forgot what he had just said and sat up straight again.

"These three elements have no fixed outlines. The fact that you can maintain their shape shows that your Morphing Intuition of amorphous things is already expanding."

McGonagall then changed the subject. "But the difficulty of Elemental Transfiguration 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 Transfiguration elements truly possess the characteristics of that element; fire is fire, and fire should burn, not just look like fire.

Sirius nodded thoughtfully.

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

"The wind is invisible, so your ability to hold on at the last moment no longer relies on visual experience."

Regulus's eyebrows twitched.

In the professor's eyes, that was already considered a success. He thought that even if the last attempt didn't constitute a failure, it was at most a half-finished product.

But then I thought about it again, and it made sense, after all, this guy is only fifteen years old.

He remained calm and listened attentively.

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

The professor didn't answer directly; instead, 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 paused for a moment, then asked hesitantly, "... Move?"

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

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 from side to side as it fell, exactly as he had sensed.

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

"This is the next step," McGonagall said with a hint of satisfaction, "To detect the existence of Transfiguration objects using Magic Perception, not by sight."

She pulled a thin booklet from the drawer, with a brown leather cover and little binding; it looked like handwritten notes. 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 papers, becoming completely 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, attacked him, 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 a fight? It's not a duel.

There's nothing wrong with surprise attacks; in fact, surprise attacks are an underestimated tactical option.

It saves time and Magic Power, and the effect is good.

He even thought Sirius should maintain this style: avoid direct confrontations and always resort to sneak attacks for a higher survival rate.

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

Since the kids are so motivated and haven't neglected their studies, what's wrong with them fighting a little 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 edges, and set it aside.

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

Are you busy or not? If so, speak quickly.

Regulus nodded slightly to the professor.

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's the meaning?

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 Transfiguration in this office, he sat next to him and watched from beginning to end, not hiding anything from him.

What happened this time?

What shouldn't I tell him? What questions should I ask him behind his back? Could I do it last time, but not this time?

A determined look appeared on Sirius's face.

The professor hasn't even said anything, and you, Black, 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, his expression remaining unchanged, still that gentle look.

The office was quiet for a moment.

Professor McGonagall turned her gaze from Regulus to Sirius.

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

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

Sirius 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's face was filled with disbelief.

When did these two become partners?

One told him to leave, and the other told him to leave too; 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 he was far too daring when it came to Regulus.

He stood up, gave Regulus a heavy snort, and said firmly, "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, dawdling for quite a while.

Finally realizing that no one would change their mind, he glared fiercely at Regulus and strode out.

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