James Potter's eyes widened, his mouth falling slightly open in disbelief. Remus Lupin inhaled sharply beside him, while Peter Pettigrew let out a startled cry before quickly clapping a hand over his mouth.
Sirius Black stood rigidly by the carriage door, his body tense and his fingers curling unconsciously into fists. For a brief moment, he had the urge to draw his wand and join the confrontation.
But he restrained himself.
Helping an outsider deal with his own younger brother—regardless of who won or lost—would be dishonorable enough. Moreover, Sirius understood something else very clearly.
Even if he joined the fight, they would not win.
Continuing the conflict would only make the situation more humiliating.
Severus Snape stared at the motionless red ribbon of light hanging in the air. Slowly, he turned his head toward Regulus.
Lily Evans was still holding Snape's sleeve, though she had completely forgotten the gesture. Her green eyes were fixed on the strange sight before her.
Regulus finally raised his head.
His gaze drifted calmly toward James Potter, as though he were looking at nothing more interesting than a piece of furniture. Then his eyes shifted to the suspended red ribbon of magic.
His right hand still held a quill.
His left hand lightly gripped his wand.
With a small, effortless flick of his wrist, he moved the wand.
The red light began to change.
The bright ribbon slowly dimmed, its glow fading from vivid crimson to a dull, transparent haze. The magic seemed to weaken and loosen, as if its structure were melting apart like ice beneath warm sunlight.
Then the spell began to break.
The ribbon fragmented into countless tiny specks of red light.
Those glowing particles floated gently in the air, drifting like embers caught in a slow breeze. They swirled silently for a moment before dissolving into nothingness.
The entire process was neither rushed nor dramatic.
It happened slowly enough that everyone present could clearly watch each stage of the spell's collapse.
Then, just as quietly as before, Regulus's wand vanished from his hand. His left hand returned to the desk, and he lowered his head again.
The quill resumed its steady movement across the parchment.
Scratch. Scratch.
The soft rustling of ink against paper filled the carriage.
It was as if nothing unusual had happened.
Silence fell over the compartment.
Ten full seconds passed.
James Potter still stood with his wand raised, his body frozen like a statue. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, reflecting only empty air where the spell had once existed.
Ten seconds ago, a fully cast Expelliarmus had been hanging in the air.
Now it was gone.
Frozen, dismantled, and dispersed—as though it had never existed in the first place.
"You…" James finally managed to speak, though the word caught awkwardly in his throat.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"What did you do?"
Regulus did not answer.
He did not even look up.
It was as if James had not spoken at all.
James clenched his fists tightly. For a moment, his face twisted with conflicting emotions. Anger burned at being ignored so completely.
But in the end, he did not lash out.
Because he understood something.
Or rather, he had read about it.
In the appendix of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One, there was a short theoretical note. It mentioned that, under certain conditions, a sufficiently powerful wizard could directly dismantle a weaker spell through magical interference, disrupting its internal structure.
Most students ignored the passage.
James Potter had not.
James loved pranks. He was arrogant and openly prejudiced against Slytherin House. But he was not stupid.
His father had taught him the fundamentals of spell theory. He had watched adult wizards perform advanced magic. He had read books far beyond the required school curriculum.
And so he understood what he had just witnessed.
This was not a first-year trick.
This was not clever wand work or some minor magical flourish.
What had just happened was something far beyond what a normal student—especially a first-year—should be capable of performing.
And the person responsible was sitting there quietly, acting as though he were completely insignificant.
James tightened his grip on his wand until it pressed painfully into his palm. He wanted to say something sarcastic, something provocative—anything to recover his dignity.
But his throat was dry.
No words came.
"What spell was that?" Remus Lupin asked softly.
He shifted slightly, placing himself between James and Regulus as he spoke.
"It wasn't a spell," Sirius said suddenly.
He stepped into the carriage and stood beside James, his gray eyes fixed on Regulus.
Sirius had not expected this.
He had always known that Regulus was talented. Their family valued magical ability above almost everything else, and Regulus had shown promise from a young age.
But this?
This was different.
This level of magical precision suggested years of intense training.
Perhaps it was some secret technique passed down through the Black family that Sirius himself had never been taught.
"What do you mean?" James snapped, turning sharply toward him.
"It means you can't beat him," Sirius replied calmly.
His tone was deliberately neutral. Caught between his best friend and his younger brother, Sirius had no desire to appear biased toward either side.
He paused briefly before adding,
"At least not for now. So don't provoke him."
James opened his mouth to argue.
But when his eyes drifted back to Regulus—and then to the empty space where the spell had disappeared—he hesitated.
Finally, he said nothing.
Regulus looked up briefly and met Sirius's gaze.
He gave the faintest nod.
Then he returned to his writing.
The group left the carriage.
Outside in the corridor, Lily Evans and Severus Snape were still standing where they had been before.
Lily had released Snape's sleeve at some point, but she remained beside him. Her wide green eyes moved between Regulus and the spot where the spell had dissolved.
Snape's expression was darker than usual.
He stared at Regulus with sharp, calculating eyes filled with suspicion.
"Are you alright?" Lily asked first.
Regulus raised his head.
His gaze moved calmly over both of them.
"Thank you for coming," he said politely. "Although, strictly speaking, Mr. Snape is the one who should be thanked. The spell was originally aimed at him."
Lily blinked in surprise.
She had not expected that response.
"Oh… well… I mean, it's nothing," she said quickly.
The corner of Snape's mouth twitched slightly, though his eyes never left Regulus.
"How did you do it?" he asked bluntly.
Regulus did not answer immediately.
Instead, he stood up and spoke in a calm tone.
"Before answering that question, perhaps we should introduce ourselves properly."
He extended his hand slightly.
"I am Regulus Black."
"Black?" Lily repeated, her eyes widening.
"You're… Sirius Black's younger brother?"
Regulus nodded faintly.
Lily took a small breath and shook his hand.
"I'm Lily Evans," she said. "Second year, Gryffindor. And this is Severus Snape. He's also a second-year—Slytherin."
Snape gave a stiff nod.
"I know your names," Regulus said.
Lily blinked again.
"You do?"
"Professor Slughorn mentioned you both," Regulus replied calmly.
"He said Hogwarts has two second-year students whose talent in Potions far exceeds that of their peers—Lily Evans and Severus Snape. He suggested that if I had the opportunity, I should interact with you."
Lily's face flushed with pleasure.
Her eyes brightened, and a genuine smile appeared on her face.
"Really? Professor Slughorn said that?"
Snape's reaction was far more complicated.
His chin lifted slightly with pride, yet his eyes remained cautious.
He had heard praise like that before.
Your talent exceeds your peers.
In Slytherin, such praise often carried an unspoken addition.
But your bloodline does not match your talent.
"So you know who we are," Snape said slowly.
"But what did we just see? That was definitely not something a first-year should know, Mr. Black."
Regulus studied him.
Young Severus Snape was a complex figure—sensitive, insecure, and fiercely proud all at once.
Toward pure-bloods, he felt both suspicion and longing.
Regulus answered calmly.
"Spell analysis and magical interference. The principle itself is not particularly complicated. It simply requires extremely precise magical control."
And, of course, something else.
Magic perception.
But Regulus kept that part to himself.
"How precise?" Snape pressed.
Regulus suppressed a sigh.
Sensitive. Proud. Brilliant.
And somewhat lacking in manners.
Still, Snape was far too valuable to dismiss.
"Precise enough that most adult wizards cannot perform it," Regulus said.
"I practiced for a long time."
Lily looked at him curiously.
"When did you start practicing magic?"
"As far back as I can remember," Regulus replied casually.
"My family has a library."
The Black family library was famous among pure-blood families. In truth, most ancient wizarding houses possessed extensive magical collections.
However, books alone were rarely enough to teach a child advanced magical techniques.
But Lily did not question the explanation.
She came from a Muggle family and had no experience with pure-blood education.
She nodded thoughtfully.
"So you're the kind of person who enjoys studying."
"Study is necessary," Regulus said with a slight nod.
"For a wizard, knowledge is power."
In his mind, he added another thought.
Even more so for Muggles.
Snape's brow twitched slightly at the statement. He glanced at Regulus again, some of the suspicion in his eyes fading into reluctant recognition.
"So," Snape asked after a moment, "which house do you intend to join?"
"Slytherin," Regulus replied without hesitation.
"It is a family tradition."
Lily's expression dimmed briefly.
She looked between Snape and Regulus before speaking carefully.
"Slytherin… isn't bad. Severus is there."
But inside, another thought surfaced.
There are also many people there who hate people like me.
Regulus seemed to understand.
"In every house," he said calmly, "there are people worth learning from—and people who are not worth wasting time on."
Lily's expression brightened again.
She smiled.
"You're right."
Then she gave a small wave.
"So… see you at the Sorting Ceremony?"
"See you at the Sorting Ceremony," Regulus replied.
Lily tugged gently at Snape's sleeve.
"We should head back, Severus."
Snape gave Regulus one last measuring look.
Then he nodded once and turned away.
Lily followed after him, waving goodbye.
The carriage fell silent once more.readability.
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