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"Ah? I succeeded?"
Arno, the Ravenclaw Seeker, swayed violently as the Great Hall finally stopped spinning around him. Bile rose in his throat. He opened his eyes, expecting to see his designated target hoop resting at his feet. Instead, he was standing in the exact same spot where he had started.
His classmate gave him a pitying grimace. "No... mate. You just jumped in a circle yourself." The boy pointed a trembling finger toward the front of the room.
The Little Eagle was stunned. He scratched his head awkwardly, his cheeks flushing pink. Only then did he notice the suffocating, eerie silence that had fallen over the usually noisy sixth-year cohort. The only sound was the heavy rain lashing against the enchanted ceiling above.
"What are you... looking at?" He followed his classmate's gaze and felt his jaw drop.
Regulus Black was standing calmly inside his wooden target circle, his breathing steady, his robes unwrinkled.
"Little Black..." His classmate swallowed hard, his voice dropping to a terrified whisper. "He just... seemed to succeed at Apparition..."
"Are you kidding?"
"...Impossible, absolutely impossible!" The Seeker shook his head mechanically, his voice shaking. "He's only in his second year, and he succeeded at Apparition on his first try?"
"I don't believe it," he continued, scrubbing a hand over his face. "It's complete hogwash!"
"Arno, I saw it with my own eyes," his friend said, his mouth dry. "...Maybe that wasn't Little Black. Maybe that's Dumbledore who drank Polyjuice Potion."
As soon as he said this, the Little Eagle snapped his head to look at his friend. His originally mocking, questioning expression instantly froze into a comical look of pure disbelief.
Before Arno could process the absurdity of that theory, the silence shattered. Applause erupted from the professors' side of the Great Hall.
Professor Sprout was the first to clap, her dirt-stained hands smacking together loudly. Professor McGonagall quickly followed suit.
"Well done, Mr. Black!" Professor McGonagall's tone retained its usual strict restraint, but a rare, proud smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"Absolutely wonderful!" Professor Sprout beamed, her patched hat bobbing as she nodded. "It was as natural as Merlin moving a pot of flowers!"
"Unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable—thirty points to Slytherin!" Professor Flitwick bounced on his heels, excitedly patting a stunned Professor Slughorn on the shoulder. Slughorn quickly puffed out his chest, attempting to look as though he had expected this brilliance all along. "Regulus... you... a miracle of Merlin..."
"Thank you, Professor!" Regulus Black bowed slightly. He stepped neatly out of the wooden circle and returned to his original position.
This Apparition... seemed easier than he had imagined.
He had just recently gone through the trouble of securing a Floo point in London, but now, considering his rapid success, maybe he wouldn't need to rely on the powder much longer.
Well, having a system cheat is better than not having one.
Regulus smiled politely and stood beside Professor Slughorn. His face showed no arrogance, no smug boasting—he looked as relaxed as if he had just performed a simple spell to turn a matchstick into a needle.
But the more casual he acted, the more the sixth-year students watching felt an indescribable, heavy pressure pressing down on their chests.
The surrounding whispers gradually grew louder, buzzing like a disturbed hornet's nest, and the Professors had to raise their voices to organize discipline again.
"Very good, very good!" Professor Twycross finally recovered from his stupor. He hurried over, his ghostly pale face flushed with unprecedented excitement. The wide smile on his face almost dispelled the damp gloom radiating from the Great Hall ceiling. "Truly... I never expected... the first time..."
Composing his professional demeanor, Professor Twycross turned to the crowd with a beaming smile:
"To be able to Apparate on your first attempt—Regulus Black, do you have any insights you could share with the senior students?"
"Thank you, Mr. Twycross! It's all thanks to your excellent explanation!" Regulus offered a sincere, charming smile.
"As you said—Destination, Determination, and Deliberation—these three Ds must be put into action." Regulus paused, letting the silence hang. "Especially what you said about 'letting the desire to enter the target space overwhelm every tiniest part of your body'—before Apparating, I tried to feel from the top of my head to the soles of my feet, and that seemed to help."
"Your comprehension—" Professor Twycross nodded in profound satisfaction, looking at the twelve-year-old as if he were ready to betroth his own daughter to him. Several Professors murmured in agreement, their expressions full of admiration.
Leaving the sixth-year students standing there in disarray in the cold draft.
What's the difference between saying that and not saying it?
"Alright, it's your turn." Professor Twycross scanned the audience, his smile taking on a meaningful, challenging edge. "The three Ds, remember them..."
Stripped of their pride, the senior students had lost their temper. They obediently listened to Professor Twycross's instructions, gritting their teeth and occasionally shooting envious glances at Regulus.
If a second-year can do it—I can do it too!
"Regulus, did you just... really Apparate?" Benny Shafiq, the Ravenclaw Prefect, sidled over after failing his fifth attempt.
Shafiq's eyes were complex, desperate. He looked as if he was silently begging Regulus to admit, "Actually, it was just special effects."
Before Regulus could answer, Shafiq leaned in and earnestly whispered, "I don't quite understand what you said about 'feeling from the top of your head to the soles of your feet'. Could you explain it in more detail?"
"Please! Mate!"
By the end of the grueling session, besides Regulus Black, only one Gryffindor from the Weasley family and Benny Shafiq managed to successfully complete Apparition.
...
Regulus didn't dwell on the results of the class.
After all, with his two lifetimes of mental maturity, his soul strength far exceeded a normal twelve-year-old's. It made logical sense that he could Apparate.
But this news spread throughout the damp corridors of Hogwarts like wildfire in an instant.
Sirius, upon hearing the gossip in the common room, merely kicked his boots up on a table, shrugged, and said, "My brother is a genius."
Meanwhile, several ambitious, indignant older students stormed their Heads of House. "I want to learn Apparition too!"
Naturally, the requests were mercilessly rejected.
"A second-year can do it, why can't I in my fifth year?" an angry Hufflepuff demanded in the courtyard.
"This must be a black box operation!" a burly seventh-year declared confidently, crossing his arms. "His surname is Black, there must be some insider information!"
Finally, Professor Flitwick, exhausted by the relentless complaints outside his office, simply smiled his squeaky smile:
"If you have any objections, why not try challenging Little Mr. Black at the Duelling Club activity tonight?"
...
That night, the Great Hall transformed. The dark, stormy ceiling remained, but the space below was brightly illuminated by thousands of brilliant, floating candles dripping warm wax. The rich scent of roasted meats from dinner lingered in the air.
Immediately after the feast, most students stayed behind. The bustling, shoving crowd was even livelier than during the inaugural DC activity.
The Duelling Club members, proudly wearing their gleaming golden badges, spoke several decibels louder than usual, riding the wave of faction pride.
"Regulus Black? We're very familiar!" Benny Shafiq boasted loudly to a group of skeptics. "I must say, although Little Black is in Slytherin, he's also an honorary member of our Ravenclaw! He has the best relationship with our Head of House."
A buzz of excited discussion swept from the heavy oak doors.
"Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout are here!" "All the Heads of House are here." "The Arithmancy Professor is here too?"
"Young people, please gather over here!" Professor Flitwick's magically magnified, booming voice echoed over the chatter.
With a swift wave of his wand, the remaining long dining tables dissolved into smoke. In their place, along the far wall, a raised, simply decorated dueling stage materialized. A massive banner reading "Duelling Club" unfurled against the stone. Beside him, Professor McGonagall flicked her wand; dozens of transfigured birds, each clutching a glowing sphere in its beak, took flight, circling mesmerizingly among the floating candles above.
The Professors took their seats in a designated viewing area one by one. Regulus stood quietly at the very edge of the stage, observing the crowd.
Professor Flitwick stepped to the podium, vibrating with excitement.
"Welcome everyone to tonight's DC activity! This time it's our new activity for the Fourth Leaderboard—[Moving Target Training]!"
The noisy audience instantly fell dead silent.
"Most of you may not have heard of this event—" Flitwick's eyes sparkled behind his spectacles. "But I guarantee, it will be absolutely fun!"
Below the stage, Benny Shafiq straightened his spine, pulling his wand.
The Professor waved his wand again. At one end of the empty stage, a massive grid appeared, resembling half of a giant chessboard. Professor McGonagall rose from her chair and cooperatively swung her wand in a wide arc.
GRIND.
Sixteen white chess pieces, each as tall and broad as a full-grown man, erupted from the grid. They were carved to look like hulking stone Trolls of various intimidating shapes, their heavy stone clubs resting on their shoulders.
"These are 'Target Chess' pieces that Professor McGonagall and I created together," Flitwick explained. "They will not attack, but they can move rapidly within the chessboard, dodge incoming spells, and even instantly change positions. Your task is to hit them with the attacking spell you are best at."
A final wave of his wand summoned a large, blank piece of parchment in mid-air. A crimson quill floated alongside it, ready to record.
"Duelling Club Fourth Scoreboard" "Latest Update: February 15, 1974 6:45 PM"
"Unless their movement is restricted by your spells, the pieces will relentlessly try to move forward. If they reach the front line, your scoring ends," Flitwick called out, his voice echoing over the heavy thud of a stone Troll shifting its weight. "The final results will be posted on the Fourth Leaderboard."
He paused, letting the rules sink in. "Furthermore, each wizard and Witch chosen to come up on stage can choose one assistant to join them."
The DC members in the crowd, tightly clutching their entry parchments, suddenly began looking frantically around, sizing up potential partners to team up with.
Standing in the front row, both Severus and Sirius slowly turned their heads, their eyes locking onto Regulus Black.
"Are you ready?" Professor Flitwick asked the crowd, blinking cheerfully.
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