Harry Potter: Reborn as Regulus Black Chapter 204 204: I Know Who I Am [bonus]

Regulus didn't say anything more. His mind was already turning over what he'd just witnessed.

Werewolves or more precisely, Lycanthropy.

A magical disease, not a natural species. Classified by the Ministry of Magic as extrely dangerous, impossible to dosticate. Though the danger only applied on the full moon. In human form, they were indistinguishable from anyone else.

Origins unknown. So said Northern Europe, others Western Europe. Didn't matter now. They were everywhere.

Transmission was remarkably narrow. A bite from a werewolf in wolf form during a full moon, saliva entering the bloodstream. Scratches didn't count.

Bill Weasley had been clawed by Greyback in human form, and all he got were so wolfish preferences and a taste for rare at. Never turned.

It wasn't hereditary either. Lupin's son Teddy ca out perfectly fine.

No blood transmission. No fluid transmission. Two werewolves couldn't even produce a werewolf child.

Regulus found the transmission chanics almost elegant in their specificity.

One bite. That was all it took.

If it hit and wasn't treated in ti, death. If treated, a lifeti sentence.

No middle ground. No cure.

Silver and Dittany were the only counterasures, and they had to be applied imdiately after the bite. Too late, and they were useless.

The real danger of werewolves lay in their loss of control, their infectious nature, and a magical resistance that was formidable by any ordinary wizard's standard.

But one thing struck Regulus as worth considering.

Take Lupin. Before the full moon, a normal person. During the full moon, a beast. After the full moon, a normal person again.

So what was a werewolf, exactly?

In theory, a werewolf's magic during transformation was pure bestial instinct. If soone could use sothing like Occluncy to construct an isolation chamber within their consciousness, locking the beast inside while human thought took the wheel of the wolf's body... could it work?

Or a variation. Keep the human mind sealed inside with an observation window. During transformation, the werewolf operates on autopilot while the person sits in the cockpit, watching it all from the inside.

Still no control, technically. But for the person trapped within, it would be one hell of an experience.

Regulus imagined the scene.

Lupin transforming, but his awareness intact, watching his own body thrash against the chains like a spectator at a show he never bought tickets for. Hard to say how that would feel.

The thought completed one circuit through his brain before he filed it away.

Too difficult. Not ordinary difficult.

He knew exactly how difficult, because he'd done sothing similar.

Sealing the thing from the Dark Awakening inside an isolation chamber, sending a virtual persona to interface with it while he watched from behind the observation window... that was the current limit of what he could manage.

Maintaining conscious awareness during a full bestial eruption while simultaneously controlling the beast's body would require more than isolation. It would require coexistence.

Several levels beyond Occluncy.

His mind drifted to Animagi.

Twenty years from now, Lupin would explain that the werewolf transformation and the Animagus transformation were fundantally different. One was forced. The other, chosen.

But from a magical standpoint, both converted a human form into an animal one.

If a werewolf mastered the Animagus transformation first, turning into so animal, then what would happen when the full moon rose? Would they beco a wolf? Or so hybrid, a werewolf version of whatever animal they'd chosen?

If their Animagus form was a hamster, would they beco a hamster-wolf?

Fist-sized, mouth full of fangs, lunging at anything that moved?

What about a jellyfish? Would it sprout tusks?

Transparent, drifting through the air, every sting laced with venom?

The corner of his mouth twitched. He kind of wanted to see that.

Then another thought surfaced. Fenrir Greyback.

The most savage werewolf in Voldemort's ranks. Specialized in attacking children, manufacturing more werewolves to turn against wizarding society.

Lupin had been five when Greyback bit him. His life changed overnight.

But Regulus wasn't interested in that part. He was thinking about sothing else.

Why didn't Voldemort find sowhere, say that subcontinent the British knew so well, hot climate, dense population, distinctive slls, sprawling slums, where the Ministry of Magic couldn't keep up?

Take control of a village or a city block, drop Greyback in.

One full moon. Bite a circle.

Even at ten per cycle, those ten beco werewolves. Next full moon, they bite too.

One year later, how many?

Regulus turned these idle calculations over without any particular expression on his face.

He found it interesting, that was all. Standing beside Dumbledore, he felt safe enough to let his mind wander freely.

Dumbledore stood beside him, watching the boy's profile.

Regulus had said "too ugly," then gone silent, eyes fixed on the Shrieking Shack in the distance, pupils unfocused. Clearly deep in thought.

Dumbledore didn't interrupt. A quiet warmth settled in his chest.

So the boy wasn't as indifferent as he'd let on. Calling it ugly was one thing, but his mind was still working through it. Watching soone his own age undergo that kind of transformation... it would leave a mark on anyone.

Dumbledore had no idea what Regulus was actually thinking.

If he'd known about the exponential werewolf production calculations, the hamster-wolf, and the fanged jellyfish, he might have been caught off guard.

After a while, Regulus surfaced. "Professor, I have a question."

Dumbledore nodded, his gaze warm.

"I was thinking. If you used Occluncy to construct an isolation chamber within the mind, trapping the bestial impulse after transformation and letting human consciousness take over... would that work?"

Sothing flickered in Dumbledore's eyes. "You're wondering how to let a werewolf keep their reason during the change?"

Regulus nodded. "Yes, Professor."

"In theory, it's possible," Dumbledore said. "Occluncy can accomplish sothing like that. It lets the human consciousness occupy a stable position within the ntal landscape, shielded from external assault."

"But there are two problems."

"First, the werewolf transformation doesn't co from the outside. It's an internal conversion. The magic changes. The body changes. Cognition changes. It's not soone knocking on your door. It's the door itself, and the room behind it, turning into sothing else. Occluncy wasn't built for that."

"Second," he continued, "even if the human mind stayed awake, the body wouldn't obey. The werewolf's body has its own instincts, its own will. You'd be trapped inside, unable to do anything."

He looked at Regulus. "Your approach is pointed in the right direction. But achieving it would require sothing deeper than Occluncy. The wizard's will would have to overwrite instinct. The wizard's consciousness would have to seize control of a body that isn't theirs."

Dumbledore's gaze grew distant. "A wizard capable of that... wouldn't be a werewolf. And a werewolf could never reach that level."

Regulus turned the words over. Overwriting instinct. Seizing control of sothing that wasn't yours.

He thought of sothing from last year. A variant of the Imperius Curse. Not seizing control, but replacing. Could it be done?

The idea stayed inside his head. He didn't voice it. But it was worth testing.

Dumbledore went on, a faint note of sorrow threading through his voice. "Among the werewolf population, those who master advanced magic are vanishingly rare. Their living conditions are too harsh. Abandoned by family, rejected by society, scraping by in hiding. Who has the luxury of studying Occluncy?"

"Remus is fortunate," he said. "His parents were willing to sacrifice everything for him. I can protect him here at school. But not every werewolf child is that lucky."

A thought flickered through Regulus's mind.

Dumbledore was accepting. But that acceptance had limits.

Children infected with Lycanthropy young... Lupin couldn't be the only one. Yet the only one who'd been taken in, protected, given a chance at a normal education, was him.

Not because Dumbledore didn't want to help. Regulus believed that if the opportunity arose, the old man would reach out. It was that the others never made it to his doorstep.

Regulus sat with that for a mont, then asked, "Professor, what you said about the will overwriting instinct. What kind of foundation does that require?"

Sothing appreciative surfaced in Dumbledore's eyes. "You've found the crux of it."

"Overwriting instinct through will," he said. "The core isn't magical strength. It's how clearly you understand yourself. Knowing who you are. Knowing what you want. Knowing what you're willing to sacrifice, and for what. The clearer those answers beco, the stronger your will."

"Every wizard who explores the domain of the mind eventually circles back to the sa question. Who are you? What kind of person do you want to beco?"

His eyes t Regulus's. "Do you have an answer?"

Regulus considered it. "I know who I am. I'm still working out what I can beco."

Dumbledore smiled. "That's already quite good."

He lifted his gaze toward the Forbidden Forest. The moon had sunk behind the treetops.

"Many people go their entire lives without knowing who they are. That you're this clear at your age puts you ahead of most adult wizards."

Regulus gave a small nod.

After a pause, he asked, "Professor, what you described... the will overwriting instinct, clarity of self-knowledge... how does that relate to Occluncy?"

Dumbledore tilted his head. "Occluncy is a tool. It helps you build barriers. It helps you block external intrusion. But it doesn't help you know yourself."

"True mastery of the mind uses those tools to explore who you are. The better you understand yourself, the stronger the barriers beco. And the stronger the barriers, the more clearly you can see yourself."

"It's a cycle. At the start, you need the tools to protect yourself. In the end, you beco the barrier."

Regulus processed this in silence.

Dumbledore was revealing a deeper layer of the ntal arts. You beco the barrier.

He understood the gist. When self-knowledge was sharp enough and the sense of self solid enough, external threats would be deflected naturally.

It echoed what he'd felt when he'd ignited Bellatrix.

I am who I am. Wasn't that the self, distilled?

Only he couldn't do what Dumbledore described. Not yet.

His sense of self was sothing guarded. It hadn't yet beco the guardian itself.

But maybe one day, his ntal defenses could work like his Constant Protego did now.

No need to consciously summon the stars. It would simply be there, protection woven into instinct.

When that day ca, perhaps he wouldn't need to deliberately cast Occluncy at all. Or rather, Occluncy itself would beco constant.

He thought on it a mont longer, then let it go.

In the distance, four figures erged from the Shrieking Shack.

Jas and Sirius had Lupin between them, one arm over each shoulder, walking him step by slow step toward the castle.

Lupin's head hung low. His feet barely touched the ground. He looked hollowed out, wrung dry. Jas and Sirius kept their pace glacial, matching every step to his.

Wormtail trailed behind, glancing in every direction.

Regulus watched them for a mont.

Dawn was coming. A grey-white glow crept along the eastern horizon. The moon still hung in the west, but its color had faded.

Dumbledore turned from the distant scene and looked at him, eyes bright with amusent. "The Forbidden Forest can wait for next ti. You'll be sneaking out at midnight again anyway."

Regulus's mouth pulled to one side. "Good morning, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled. "Good morning, Regulus."

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