They kept circling. Lily found her rhythm.
She stopped trailing Regulus and started pressing him, chaining spells to cut off his movement. First shot to his right. Second closed the space to his left. Third arrived the instant he changed direction.
Regulus stepped back twice, caught all three, and needed two extra adjustments to recover his footing.
He paused and looked at her, addressing those three specifically. "The thinking's right. Use spells to box your opponent's movement, wait until they're forced into one direction, then hit that direction. That's what dueling is. Not two people trading shots. It's controlling the field. Those three you chained together, that instinct is good. A little faster, a little tighter on the links, and I wouldn't have gotten out."
Lily listened closely, nodding as he spoke.
"One more thing," he continued. "Watch the opponent's wand angle. Before they cast, the wand points toward the target. The lead time is short, but it's enough for you to read what's coming. Pair that with where their eyes are looking, and you can usually guess where the next spell lands..."
Halfway through the sentence, Lily's eyes flashed with mischief. Her wand snapped forward and a Disarming Charm shot straight at his chest, slipped in clean through the gap while he was talking.
Regulus's eyebrow twitched. His wand flicked sideways, batting the red light into the wall.
The deflection took a touch more effort than usual. A faint smile crossed his face, and he glanced at her.
Lily stood there breathing hard, a few strands of hair loose across her face, eyes blazing, waiting for a verdict.
She knew that had been good. She'd nearly landed it. She knew perfectly well he hadn't been trying, but the thrill didn't care about context.
His tone stayed gentle, though his expression carried the look of someone watching a child get into mischief. "Attacking while your opponent is mid-sentence. Not exactly fair play."
Lily met that look without flinching. "You're the one who said there's no fair play in a duel."
Regulus considered this. He was fairly sure he'd never said that, but he looked at Lily and decided to own it. The statement wasn't wrong.
He nodded. "Right. I did say that."
Lily let out a small, satisfied sound, pride and restraint fighting for control of her mouth. Restraint lost.
They sparred a while longer. Regulus kept her on the attack, retreating and receiving, firing back just often enough to keep the pressure real without overwhelming her.
Lily settled into the rhythm and grew sharper. By the end, she was managing movement, casting angles, and tempo all at once.
Still a far cry from a real duel, but for a third-year, the progress was solid.
Near half past nine, Regulus lowered his wand. Lily stopped too, leaning against the windowsill, drinking water, her breathing still quick.
He stood in the center of the classroom and waited for her to recover.
Outside the window, the sky had gone fully dark.
Lily finished her water, tucked the bottle away, and turned her head toward him. The question she'd been sitting on all evening surfaced.
"That thing on you," she said, tapping her own chest and miming a blocking motion. "What is it?"
"Protego," Regulus said. "Kept running at all times. No need to actively cast it each time."
Lily stared. Her brow creased. "Running at all times?"
"With enough magical reserves and enough familiarity with the spell, you can make it permanent." He paused. "But the real foundation is magical control. No incantation, no wand. Making your magic act directly."
That was true, but not the whole truth.
His constant Protego had long since evolved past what he'd originally found in the Restricted Section. After Bellatrix ignited, the protective intent had fused into it, transforming it from a defensive spell into something else entirely.
It had grown from sustained magical shaping and an internalized will to protect. Not complex, but refined.
None of that needed explaining to Lily.
Without Bellatrix, without the protective intent, constant protego on its own was still functional. Just difficult. Extremely difficult.
Compressing a spell into a thin membrane, weaving it from raw magic, binding it to the body, maintaining a continuous feed of power so it sustained itself. The level of magical control required was beyond the reach of most adult wizards.
But difficulty wasn't a reason not to train. Even if she never achieved it, the process itself had value. The awareness of magic, the control, the allocation, the sustained output. All of it formed the groundwork for everything above.
Lily's brow stayed furrowed.
She remembered last weekend vividly. Regulus catching a spell she'd cast with his bare hand, then crushing it. He'd called that magical control. He'd called it fundamental.
She drew a sharp breath, lifted her chin, and looked at him. "How do I train it?"
"One step at a time," Regulus said quietly. "That's what I'm going to teach you next."
Lily nodded, then blinked. "What about the sparring? Are we still doing that?"
"For sparring, find your own partners. Classmates, friends. Use every spell you've learned, use them often. Familiarity breeds speed. You can always come to me too, of course." He went on, "But going forward, I want you working on something different."
Lily's eyebrow rose. "What?"
"The Patronus Charm."
She blinked, uncertainty threading through her voice. "The Patronus? The one most adult wizards can't even summon?"
Regulus nodded. "Yes."
She studied him, thought it over, and asked directly. "Why start on that now?"
"The Patronus converts emotion into magical force," he said, his tone even. "Practicing it is really practicing something else."
A beat of silence. Then he added, "You'll need it someday."
Lily turned the words over in her head. Practicing the Patronus isn't really about practicing the Patronus?
She didn't understand, but she didn't press. She just nodded.
She didn't doubt him. Over the past year and more, everything he'd told her had its reasons. Even when she hadn't fully grasped it at the time, it always made sense later.
Regulus's expression grew a shade more serious. "There's something I need to be clear about."
Lily looked up.
"The Patronus training, you can practice on your own. It's fine if your friends know. But you can't say you learned it from me."
Lily went still. Green eyes rested on his face for a long moment. She didn't ask why. She just looked at him.
She didn't know the reason, but she could see he meant it.
"Okay." She nodded firmly. "I'll remember."
A pause, and then her eyes shifted. She tilted her head. "Could I go to Professor McGonagall? Tell her I want to learn it, ask her for some direction. That way there's a plausible source."
Regulus looked at her, approval filling his gaze, and nodded.
Lily's chin lifted, and the grin she'd been fighting broke free, delight so fierce it practically radiated off her.
Regulus smiled. "Clever."
Then he walked to the corner of the classroom, touched a finger to a wood chip on the floor, and it became a slender feather, drifting upward.
He placed it on his palm and held it out to Lily. "Take this."
She took it, studied it, then looked back at him.
"Hold your wand, but don't speak an incantation. Don't move the wand," he said. "Feel the magic inside you. Guide it toward your fingertips. Gather it there. Then let it flow out and touch the feather."
Lily lowered her gaze to the feather, brow knitting, concentrating, but she couldn't figure out where to begin.
After a moment, she looked up, frustration creeping in. "I can't feel where the magic is."
Regulus asked patiently, "When you cast a spell, where does the magic come from?"
Lily thought. "From... inside my body?"
"Right." He nodded. "Close your eyes. Walk through your most familiar spell in your head. Don't say it out loud. Feel where the magic starts moving, where it goes, what it feels like inside you before it gathers at the wand tip."
Lily closed her eyes, wand in hand, brow slightly pinched, lips moving faintly as though silently mouthing something before going still.
About half a minute later, she opened her eyes.
"There's something. From here..." She touched a spot just left of center on her chest. "Down through my arm. Then to the wand tip."
"Hold on to that feeling. Now, no spell. Just guide the magic to your fingertips, hold it there, then let it out. Touch the feather."
Lily drew a deep breath and looked down at the feather again.
Nothing. She tried again. Still nothing.
She pressed her lips together, her frown deepening, stubbornness sharpening into focus.
On the third attempt, the fine barbs along the feather's edge trembled, a whisper of motion like a faint breeze had passed over it. Then stillness.
Lily's eyes went wide. She looked up at Regulus, bright-eyed.
"It moved," he said softly. "But not stable yet. Keep going. Make it float completely."
She lowered her head and continued.
This time it came faster. The feather lifted from her palm and hung in the air, wobbling, drifting left.
She adjusted quickly. The feather swayed several times and fell.
She picked it up, placed it back on her palm, and went again.
On the fifth attempt, the feather hovered steady in the air, about an inch above her hand, perfectly still.
Lily stared at it, holding her breath, afraid the slightest shift would knock it down.
Regulus wasn't afraid. "Now make it draw a circle."
Lily looked up at him, the corner of her mouth twitching. You're serious?
He was entirely serious.
She looked back down at the feather and tried to move it.
It lurched right, then darted left, carving a crooked arc through the air before dropping again.
From beside her, his voice came steady as ever. "Again."
Lily picked up the feather, took a deep breath, and tried again.
After several more rounds, the circle was still a work in progress.
Regulus touched a finger to a chunk of broken brick in the corner. It became a cup. He set it on the windowsill, tapped the rim, and cast Aguamenti.
Water flowed from his fingertip and filled the cup to about four-fifths full.
"Set the feather aside. Look at this."
He said, "Make ripples appear on the surface. Control their shape."
Lily walked over, glanced at the water, then looked at Regulus. A note of wry exasperation colored her voice. "Is this training method specifically designed to show you how bad you are?"
Regulus smiled. "More or less."
Lily laughed, then bent her head over the water and began.
First attempt, nothing. Second, a few faint ripples scattered and vanished.
Third time, the ripples held a moment longer, but the shape was entirely uncontrolled, spreading in every direction.
Lily frowned and tried to compress them into a square. The surface dissolved into chaos.
She looked at Regulus, pained.
"Too dispersed," he said. "The magic you're sending out needs to be focused. Start from a single point. You decide where it spreads."
Lily considered, nodded, and tried again.
This time a single fine ripple appeared on the water, just a shallow line, but unmistakably controlled.
She watched it, and her mouth slowly curved.
Regulus said nothing, letting her sit with the feeling.
Wind struck the glass outside. The water's surface shivered, and the ripple dissolved.
Lily lifted her head and exhaled softly.
"Almost ten," Regulus said gently. "That's enough for today."
Lily murmured agreement, pushed the cup aside, and brushed off her hands. "Magical control. I practice on my own when I get back?"
Regulus nodded. "Right. Feather and water both work. Take it slow."
Lily nodded too, but then her expression shifted, as though weighing whether to speak.
She spoke anyway, her voice tinged with something raw. "Why do you think... some people just have to be bullies?"
The moment the words left her, that low, subdued weight she'd walked in with tonight resurfaced in her eyes.
Regulus's eyebrow rose.
A few days ago, when Snape had come to him, that look on his face. And now Lily's careful, guarded expression tonight...
No need to think hard. Sirius.
And where Sirius went, James was never far behind.