Chapter 61: Spatial Perception
Regulus's perceptual talent was innate.
In that brief instant of movement, things most witches and wizards never saw rose into view. Faint silver trails where magic had flowed. Ripple like folds where space had been forced to distort. A shimmer of sparks clinging to the edge of a crack that had been prised open and stitched shut again.
All of it, usually invisible, appeared one after another.
He knew his perception had improved.
At first, he could only sense the existence of magic, the blunt presence of it. Later, he learned to perceive the emotions and states of plants. Now, he could even catch the faint outlines of spatial change.
It was still blurry. He could only see rough shape and direction, nothing more. But it had appeared where there had been nothing at all, and that alone meant everything.
It could mean he would control his magic with greater precision when casting spells. It could mean he would detect a spell's trajectory earlier when facing an attack. It could mean he would finally begin to understand what magic truly changed, and how it changed it.
"I'll try again," Regulus said.
Orion stepped back towards the door, arms folded across his chest, and gave him a silent gesture to continue.
The second Apparition came.
Then the third.
Then the fourth.
Each time he cast, the sensation became a fraction clearer. The resistance at the moment space was prised open. The trace left behind when magic tore through. The awkward discomfort of being compressed and released.
He began to adapt to this crude method of movement. By the fourth attempt, he was already adjusting his breathing the moment the squeeze arrived, making the process slightly smoother.
When the fifth Apparition ended, Orion spoke.
"That is enough for today. The more you push past your limit, the easier it is for something to go wrong. Splinching happens most often when the mind cannot hold steady."
Regulus stopped.
His mind still felt resilient. He did not feel exhausted. Still, he followed the advice and used the pause to digest what he had gained.
"Repeated Apparition is taxing," Orion said. He stepped to Regulus's side and pressed a firm hand to his shoulder, an instruction disguised as a warning. "Do not exceed ten times a day at first. Adapt slowly."
"Understood."
Regulus's thoughts, however, were still wrapped around what he had seen.
Space felt like an elastic membrane. Apparition was like forcing a hole through it and crawling to the other side.
But what if there was another way?
Instead of punching through, what if the membrane could be made to sag naturally, turning into a slope he could slide across?
Or further still, what if the membrane could deliver him on its own, like a current carrying a leaf?
Orion lifted his wand and reactivated the Anti Apparition jinx in the training room.
This time, Regulus felt it clearly. The atmosphere tightened. A presence shut like a door, an invisible barrier settling into place.
Orion was turning to leave when Regulus spoke again.
"I'll try once more."
Orion raised an eyebrow, then nodded.
With the Anti Apparition jinx reapplied, Apparition would fail. There was no real risk.
Regulus raised his wand. His destination remained the stone platform.
"Apparate."
Magic surged. The familiar compression began.
Then, nothing.
Space did not open. The invisible wall stood firm, as hard as stone.
It felt as though he were pushing against a solid surface with all his strength, and the surface did not move a fraction.
The magic recoiled, snapping back through his wand and into his arm.
Regulus staggered half a step, caught himself, and steadied his breathing. The recoil was sharp enough to leave his wrist faintly numb.
But he had seen it.
The Anti Apparition jinx was like a dense net woven of magic, stretched tight over the entire space. Apparition required tearing through it.
The net's strength and toughness were simply too great. With his current power, he could not rip it at all.
A question surfaced immediately, sharp and unavoidable.
Then how did house elves do it?
Regulus remembered Christmas Day, when Kreacher had taken him from King's Cross back to Grimmauld Place. There had been no suffocating squeeze, no tearing, no sensation of being forced through a tube.
It had been as if space itself had opened a path and they had stepped through.
"Father." Regulus lowered his wand. "A house elf's way of moving through space is not the same as Apparition, is it?"
Orion clearly had not expected the question.
He frowned, thinking, and when he finally spoke his tone carried uncertainty.
"Elven magic is different," he said slowly. "They do not use wands. Much of what they do seems innate. They do not learn it the way we do. Apparition is a skill for a wizard. For them, it might be as natural as walking."
"They can pass through the Anti Apparition jinx," Regulus said.
"Yes," Orion agreed.
"Why?" Regulus pressed.
Orion fell silent for longer this time. He walked to the wall and ran his fingers over the carved runes, as if the stone might answer him. At last, he shook his head.
"No wizard has studied it," he said. "Most do not pay attention to elven magic."
Regulus understood what "most" meant.
Almost all.
Wizards had long grown accustomed to house elves. They cleaned, cooked, watched children, carried messages, and solved household inconveniences with silent efficiency.
No one asked how.
As long as it worked, who cared about the principle?
That was arrogance, settled deep into the bones.
For thousands of years, wizards had sat at the top of the magical food chain, looking down at other races with casual condescension. Goblins minted coins. Centaurs watched the stars. Giants had brute strength.
But wizards had civilisation, and a magical system passed down generation to generation.
And house elves?
They knew a bit of household magic. Not worth mentioning.
Yet Regulus knew the truth was not that simple.
Even Dumbledore could not Apparate directly into the cave where Voldemort hid his Horcrux. One had to take a boat over the lake of Inferi.
Kreacher, however, could come and go.
That was not something "household magic" could casually explain.
"Kreacher," Regulus said softly.
Silently, the house elf appeared in the corner of the training room. He still wore his dirty tea towel and held a rag, as though he had been cleaning somewhere moments before being summoned.
"Young Master called Kreacher?" Kreacher's eyes darted between Regulus and Orion. His ears twitched uneasily.
"Take me through space once," Regulus commanded. "From here to the Entrance Hall, and then back."
Kreacher looked at Orion with a questioning, almost pleading expression.
Orion nodded. "Do as he says."
Only then did Kreacher reach out his thin, withered hand. The skin was wrinkled, and dust still clung beneath his nails.
Regulus took it.
This time, he focused every shred of attention on perception.
There was no compression. No tearing. No violent fluctuation of magic.
He only felt space ripple, like water disturbed by a falling droplet. A soft, almost imperceptible distortion formed around him and Kreacher.
And then they were standing in the Entrance Hall.
The fire in the hearth burned bright, snapping and crackling. Portraits turned their heads in unison. Some yawned. Some frowned. A few leaned together and whispered as though the house itself had delivered gossip along with them.
Regulus stood motionless.
He had seen it.
Space had folded.
It had delivered him from one end to the other without forcing a path through anything.
Like folding a piece of paper. Two points that were far apart became neighbours the instant the paper bent, touching without travelling the distance between them.
No wonder they could bypass the Anti Apparition jinx.
That net guarded against tearing and penetration. It did not guard against folding.
The net remained intact. The route simply did not go through it. The route went around it.
"Back," Regulus said.
Kreacher took him back to the training room.
Orion was still waiting there, watching him closely.
"Did you feel it?" Orion asked.
"It is completely different," Regulus said, sorting the details in his mind with careful precision.
"Apparition is forcing your way in. If you cannot open the door, you smash a hole through the wall."
He lifted his gaze.
"The elf's way is a detour. The wall is still there, but they go under it."
"A detour?" Orion frowned. "How does space take a detour?"
"Space can fold," Regulus said, then realised words were a blunt tool for this kind of thing. He tried again, reaching for an image that could translate feeling into sense.
"Imagine two cities on a map. They are far apart. But if you fold the map, the cities end up right next to each other."
Orion considered that, tapping his fingers lightly on his wand handle.
After a long moment, he shook his head.
"I cannot picture it," he admitted. "But if you can feel it, remember that sensation. Magical perception is your talent. It will become a powerful advantage."
Regulus nodded.
But his mind had already moved beyond the explanation.
If he could learn that method of folding space…
He did not need to master it perfectly. House elf magic might be bound to their nature in ways wizards could not replicate.
But if he understood the principle, if he could imitate even a fraction of it…