Four months later, March 1964.
Walburga held a tea party. Nominally, it was a spring gathering for the ladies, but in reality, it was for Walburga to show off her sons' growth to her sisters.
Thirteen-year-old Bellatrix arrived first. She wore a dark green velvet dress, her hair combed meticulously, her eyes critical as if she were trying to find faults in everyone.
"I heard you blew up the living room," she said, walking straight up to Sirius.
Sirius held his head high. "I can control my magic!"
Nine-year-old Andromeda and eight-year-old Narcissa followed their mother, Druella, inside. Andromeda smiled gently at Regulus, while Narcissa assessed the new decorations in the living room.
The tea party began. The adults talked about boring topics: personnel changes at the Ministry of Magic, or a daughter of some pure-blood family getting engaged to someone whose blood status wasn't pure enough, though wealth could compensate.
The children sat at a special small table with children's cutlery before them. Sirius was restless, wanting to show off the new magic he had learned.
Regulus, meanwhile, was pondering a question: Why does Transfiguration require imagining a specific form? If I just want to change the state of matter without specifying a shape, what happens?
"Watch this," Sirius said, concentrating and staring at his silver spoon.
Magic surged out.
The spoon began to bend. Good, an elegant curve.
But Sirius was too excited. He thought, bend a little more, that would be prettier!
More magical output poured forth, and the spoon bent too far.
This was a mistake. He glanced at Bellatrix to see if she had noticed, and in that glance, his magical control deviated.
The flow of magic was like a bursting dam, rushing toward the entire set of cutlery.
Regulus suddenly felt a violent fluctuation of magic. He looked up to see all the silverware on the small table changing color. The silver-white faded, flesh-pink emerged, and ringed patterns appeared on the surface.
They turned into earthworms.
Twelve fat, flesh-pink earthworms wriggled on the tablecloth.
The adults had long been attracted by the commotion. Walburga's face had gone from red to pale.
Druella put down her teacup, her expression stiff.
Bellatrix raised her eyebrows, feigning surprise by covering her mouth and letting out an affected gasp.
Sirius was stunned. He looked at his work, his lips trembling.
"I..." He opened his mouth but was too embarrassed to speak.
Walburga reached for her wand. Regulus saw the fury in his mother's eyes. It wasn't just anger at ruining the tea party, but the shame of losing face in front of her sisters.
Trouble, Regulus thought. If she loses her temper, the tea party ends unhappily, Sirius gets punished, and I have to listen to her complain for three days.
He stood up, walked to the small table, and looked down at the pile of wriggling creatures.
I have to say, these earthworms were transformed quite completely, he commented in his mind.
First, analyze the structure. His brain automatically started working. Transfiguration didn't completely destroy the material basis, just reorganized the molecular arrangement.
The silver atoms are still there, the shape-memory effect of the metal should still be there. The key is to find the last stable form memory before the transformation...
He raised his hand, palm down, hovering ten centimeters above the earthworms, and began to output magic.
Unlike ordinary wizards, Regulus found his magical control could be precise to the microscopic level.
It wasn't driven by emotion like standard spellcasting, but by calculation. His brain could automatically construct multi-dimensional models, calculate magic flow, and adjust output frequency.
It was like having a supercomputer in his head. He had once joked to himself that perhaps this was a perk of being a transmigrator.
The next moment, silver light shone from within the earthworms. They stopped wriggling, levitated one by one, and arranged themselves into a perfect hexagon in mid-air.
A stable hexagon, he thought. This fits the optimal distribution of magic.
Bellatrix leaned forward, her eyes wide.
Narcissa covered her mouth in surprise.
Andromeda whispered, "Merlin..."
The transfiguration reversal began. The earthworms contracted, stretched, and a metallic luster shone from within.
Ten seconds later, the cutlery was restored, hovering in the air, silver light flowing over the surfaces.
Regulus moved his fingers slightly. The cutlery followed the shortest paths, avoiding all obstacles, and landed back in their original positions in an orderly fashion.
Spoon, fork, knife, teacup, saucer, small plate—not a hair out of place.
Finally, there was the bent spoon. The crease was deep; the metal was fatigued.
Regulus extended his index finger and lightly touched the crease.
Rearrangement of metal crystal structure. Requires local heating to recrystallization temperature, but not exceeding the melting point. Magic simulates the thermal effect, frequency adjusted to resonate with silver atoms.
The crease began to vanish, atoms returning to place, like time reversing.
Five seconds later, the spoon was perfect as new.
Regulus retracted his hand, sat back in his seat, and picked up the unfinished biscuit. He kept a poker face the whole time, not letting anyone see he was deliberately showing off.
Though inwardly, he was quite proud. As expected of me!
"Merlin's beard!" Druella blurted out, nearly dropping her teacup.
Bellatrix stood up, walked to the small table, and picked up the spoon to examine it. She turned it over, looked at it against the light, and tapped it with her fingernail, making a crisp metallic sound.
She looked up at Regulus, her eyes shocked. "How... did you do that?"
Regulus chewed his biscuit and mumbled, "They wanted to go back."
"What?"
"The cutlery wanted to be cutlery again. I just helped."
This explanation was laughably childish, but coming from a three-year-old, it seemed normal.
Of course I know how I did it, Regulus thought, but I can do it, I just can't say it.
Wizards rely on intuition and talent to do incredible things, but at his age, if he could not only do it but also explain the principles, that would be too excessive.
Narcissa whispered to Andromeda, "He looks very relaxed."
Andromeda nodded, a certain worry in her eyes.
Walburga's expression went through rapid changes: shock, confusion, then ecstasy.
But she restrained herself. The mistress of the House of Black could not lose her composure in front of outsiders.
She simply lifted her teacup, took a sip, and said in the calmest voice 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 at three? He was still smearing jam on house-elves."
Everyone's eyes drifted toward Regulus from time to time, while he just quietly ate biscuits as if nothing had happened.
Sirius kept his head down. Regulus glanced at him, knowing his pride was hurt.
After the tea party ended, Druella left with her daughters. Only the family remained in the living room.
Walburga finally couldn't hold it back. She picked up Regulus. "My genius!"
She whispered excitedly in her son's ear, "I knew it! The future of the House of Black!"
He looked over his mother's shoulder and saw Sirius.
Sirius stood at the living room door, gripping the doorframe. It was hard to imagine a four-year-old having such a complex expression: shock, hurt, confusion, and a little jealousy?
Double trouble, Regulus thought. A four-year-old doesn't understand 'necessary measures'; he only knows his younger brother stole his thunder.
Sirius turned and ran away, footsteps thumping up the stairs.
Walburga put Regulus down, frowning. "He's throwing a tantrum again. Ignore him, Regulus, you did the right thing."
He's only four, Regulus thought, but didn't say it aloud, since he was only three himself.
That night, Orion knocked on Regulus's door. He had just returned home; as a member of the Wizengamot, he often worked late.
"I heard about today," Orion sat opposite Regulus. "Exquisite skill."
"How did you do it?" he asked.
Regulus thought for three seconds and gave an answer. "I don't know, I just... saw what to do."
"Saw?" Orion was a bit puzzled; this was an answer he hadn't expected.
"I saw the original appearance of the earthworms, so I let them change back."
Orion stared at him thoughtfully. This could be explained by talent—rare, but not unheard of.
Sirius's power was strong but uncontrolled, stemming from unstable emotions.
In contrast, Regulus's performance leaned more towards control and precision operation.
"Interesting explanation," he finally said. "But remember, don't show too much in front of others. Geniuses attract jealousy, and also fear."
"Cousin Bella looked very excited," Regulus steered the topic to Bellatrix.
"Bella..." Orion frowned. "She is obsessed with power. That rising big shot is also obsessed with power. Be careful not to be targeted."
Regulus nodded. Of course, he knew who that big shot was: Tom Riddle, the future Voldemort.