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The clear weather on Valentine's Day was a fleeting, rare anomaly in the United Kingdom's cursed February gloom. Sure enough, by the first Saturday after the holiday, the Scottish highlands had returned to their freezing norm.
Outside the Castle walls, a damp, biting drizzle fell constantly. The sky hung low and bruisingly gray, while a creeping, bone-chilling mist coated the stained-glass windows of Hogwarts with thick condensation.
Due to the muddy grounds, the inaugural Apparition class for the sixth-year students was forced indoors, relocating to the vast expanse of the Great Hall.
Inside the Great Hall at this moment, the usual long wooden dining tables were vanished. Above them, the enchanted ceiling faithfully mirrored the miserable weather outside, complete with rolling storm clouds and the persistent drumming sound of rain against unseen glass. The air inside felt heavy, thick with moisture and the faint smell of wet wool robes.
The Heads of the four Houses stood near the front, gathering the murmuring sixth-year students around a strange, diminutive wizard.
The instructor wore a sweeping, dark blue cloak that seemed a size too large for his frame. His face was unnaturally pale, his eyes a washed-out grey-blue, and his wispy hair possessed a strange, translucent quality. He looked fragile, as if a strong draft might blow him into another dimension at any moment.
This was Wilkie Twycross, the official Apparition instructor sent by the Ministry of Magic's Department of Education.
The group of older students, besides cautiously examining the instructor who seemed twenty percent ghost-like, kept directing their gaze elsewhere. Dozens of eyes fixed upon a handsome, black-haired younger boy standing calmly among the professors. Whispers rippled through the crowd, accompanied by pointed fingers.
"Is that Regulus Black?" "Yeah, why is he taking Apparition class too?" "Didn't they say younger years couldn't learn it yet?"
"Apparition isn't like riding a broom," the Ravenclaw Seeker muttered, rolling his eyes with undisguised disdain. "Delaying our class is a small matter, but if Black splinches himself in half on the stone floor... tsk tsk."
His companion beside him snickered meanly, echoing the sentiment.
The Slytherins nearby bristled at the insult. Marcus Flynn, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, sneered. "Black's defeated. You eagles can only talk big from a safe distance."
"Quiet!" Professor McGonagall's stern voice cut through the damp air like a whip, successfully silencing the brewing argument between the houses.
Regulus paid zero mind to the questioning gazes or the petty rivalries. He stood with impeccable posture, his hands clasped casually behind his back beside a rather nervous-looking Professor Slughorn, calmly watching Professor Twycross ahead.
"Good morning, Horace! Good morning, Regulus!" Professor Flitwick squeaked cheerfully as he waddled over to greet them.
The charms master had spent significant time with Regulus recently, collaborating on the intricate spell designs for the Duelling Club. Their working relationship was so seamless that it gave Slughorn a subtle, jealous pang, feeling as though his prize student was being poached by Ravenclaw.
The fourth phase of the Duelling Club's curriculum—"Moving Target Training"—was finally ready. Professor Flitwick had personally petitioned the Headmaster, securing permission to host another massive public DC training event right here in the Great Hall. Even before Valentine's Day, Regulus had strategically posted the promotional posters on the notice boards, successfully igniting the enthusiasm of the entire student body.
And this highly anticipated event was scheduled for tonight.
"I honestly didn't expect Dumbledore would actually agree to let you learn Apparition early," Professor Flitwick said with a low, warm chuckle. "Are you ready?"
Regulus offered a slight, polite nod. "Professor, I'm just here to observe the theory today. Whether I can formally start practical learning depends on Professor Twycross's judgment."
In reality, Regulus had already met with Professor Twycross privately the previous evening and undergone a rigorous assessment of his magical abilities.
At first, Twycross harbored little hope for the boy. In the Ministry official's bureaucratic mind, this was merely the spoiled Black Family young master indulging a dangerous whim. However, since Orion Black had personally visited his office and presented a generous vault donation, he had to give face to the Black Family, a major financial pillar of the Ministry of Magic.
Yet, after personally assessing the boy's actual magical output, Twycross completely changed his view. It was utterly unheard of for a twelve-year-old to skillfully and effortlessly perform advanced Transfiguration and maintain flawless Invisibility Charms without breaking a sweat.
"Hmm... it seems your soul strength is surprisingly sufficient," Twycross's dismissive tone had softened into genuine respect after the test. "Theoretically, you already have the foundation to learn Apparition."
He had always favored genuinely intelligent students.
Meanwhile, Regulus's gamer logic had quickly analyzed the phenomenon. Apparition, an advanced magic akin to folding physical space, was intrinsically tied to the maturity and resilience of a wizard's soul.
A person's soul gradually strengthens as they grow. This biological reality explained why Hogwarts strictly restricted the Apparition course to sixth-year students; the curriculum catered to the average soul development timeline of normal teenagers.
Perhaps the legal standard for Wizards reaching adulthood at seventeen is also directly related to the soul? Regulus theorized.
If that were the case, with his two lifetimes of mental fortitude and system upgrades, attempting this spell wasn't truly beyond his current 'level'.
Hmm, there is still a lot of room for improvement, Regulus mused, eyeing his invisible stats.
...
"With your talent, you might just surprise us all again!" Professor Flitwick beamed, his high-pitched voice echoing slightly. "Good luck!"
With a wave, the tiny professor quickly scurried back to monitor his Ravenclaw students.
Once the hall settled into a tense quiet, Professor Twycross cleared his throat. His voice lacked resonance, sounding thin and reedy. He announced that he would be instructing them over the next twelve weeks and revealed the strict Ministry license examination date.
"Headmaster Dumbledore has graciously lifted the ancient enchantments, removing the anti-Apparition restriction for exactly one hour. This vulnerability is strictly limited to the area of the Great Hall," Professor Twycross instructed sternly. "Now, I'd like everyone to stand in their places..."
Regulus, standing quietly beside Slughorn, followed the instruction, leaving a clear five-foot radius of empty space in front of his boots.
After a chaotic flurry of shuffling feet and rustling robes, the Great Hall finally quieted down. Twycross flicked his pale wand. Instantly, an old-fashioned wooden hoop materialized on the stone floor directly in front of every single student.
Regulus raised an eyebrow in pleasant surprise. A wooden hoop rested on the flagstones in front of him too. Professor Twycross had explicitly told him yesterday that he was only to observe the first lesson and perhaps participate in private Hogsmeade training later. It seemed the instructor had decided to let him test the waters.
More curious, jealous eyes darted toward the Slytherin second-year. Regulus ignored them, his focus narrowing into a tunnel as he listened intently to the lecture.
"The most important thing when Apparating is to remember the three Ds—"
The observing professors noticed a distinct shift in the room's atmosphere. Perhaps driven by the competitive presence of the much younger Regulus, almost all the distracted sixth-years were suddenly staring intensely at Twycross, terrified of missing a crucial detail.
After a period of instruction filled with mystical implications, idealistic guidance on spatial awareness, and graphic warnings about the bloody realities of splinching, Professor Twycross raised his wand and shouted:
"Destination, Determination, and Deliberation!"
"When I give the command... remember to rotate gracefully on the spot."
"...and let yourselves enter a state of complete emptiness."
Nervous gasps rippled through the Great Hall. Many students had assumed the first class would be purely theoretical. Caught off guard by the sudden practical exercise, they began looking around in panicked surprise.
Regulus, however, immediately closed his eyes and cleared his mind. Tapping into his assassin's focus, he followed the command. He felt the cold air on his skin, the solid stone beneath his boots, and the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat. He entered a flawless meditative state.
Twycross counted down from three.
Without a trace of hesitation, Regulus resolutely spun on his heel.
Having experienced side-along Apparition countless times with his parents and Kreacher, the suffocating, compressing sensation of spatial magic was not unfamiliar territory. He embraced the squeeze.
CRACK!
A sound like a massive whip striking stone echoed violently through the Great Hall.
In an instant, all the older students—who were currently swaying unsteadily or tripping over their own feet in failed attempts—froze in place. The professors maintaining order snapped their heads toward the noise in utter astonishment.
Professor Flitwick couldn't help but let out a sharp squeak.
Professor Slughorn inhaled a ragged gasp, a hand flying to his chest.
The strict, professional expressions of Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout shattered, frozen in open-mouthed shock.
Even the ghostly Professor Twycross physically swayed on his feet, his grey-blue eyes wide.
The vast Great Hall fell into a dead, ringing silence. The only sound was the enchanted rain hitting the ceiling.
...
Regulus stood perfectly still within the center of the wooden hoop in front of him. He let out a slow, steady breath and leisurely opened his grey eyes.
...