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Late August. The dining room of Alphard Black's sprawling country house.
As the summer vacation was rapidly drawing to a close, Uncle Al finally returned from his extended expedition to Sweden.
He had clearly had a highly rewarding, incredibly dangerous experience. He not only casually won first prize in the annual, highly competitive Scandinavian international broom contest—receiving a heavy, solid gold medal shaped like a Swedish Short-Snout Dragon—but he had also recklessly ventured deep into the heavily restricted National Dragon Reserve alongside a team of daring local wizards to illegally harvest shed short-snout dragon skins for crafting.
"Those specific dragons are absolutely magnificent. They can breathe out dazzling, intensely hot blue flames directly from their nostrils; it's terrifying, yet deeply beautiful," Alphard told his two captivated nephews, casually recounting his near-death adventure over a plate of roast beef. "I absolutely have to find a way to safely collect and bottle those specific blue flames on my next trip, just to see if they possess any unique alchemical properties..."
Uncle Al, you are an absolute, undisputed badass! Regulus thought, his dark eyes filled with profound awe.
But a second later, his modern, pragmatic mind suddenly became deeply worried about Uncle Al's physical safety. As the saying goes: the brave ones enjoy life the most... but they also tend to end it first.
As dinner wound down, Regulus and Sirius briefly recounted the recent, highly classified events of the Malfoy wedding.
"So, let me get this straight. This so-called 'Dark Lord' is a confirmed Parselmouth? And he keeps a massive, venomous viper that's over ten feet long as a pet... Hmm. Well, no wonder he arrogant claims to be the true Heir of Slytherin. Though..." Alphard frowned deeply, putting down his delicate teacup. "I've honestly never heard of anyone remotely matching his physical description existing in the remaining Gaunt family line before."
Alphard sighed, shaking his head. "In that case, given his dark charisma, he certainly possesses the necessary aura to have someone as fanatical as Bellatrix completely, hopelessly bewitched."
"And if you look closely past the distortion, you can easily tell he used to be a genuinely, terrifyingly handsome man in his youth," Regulus added calmly, sipping his water.
"Bellatrix... she is... well, never mind her. You boys can figure out how to navigate your own political futures," Alphard said, waving his hand dismissively. "Let's stop talking about our depressing family tree. You came here today to finally see the Alchemy lab, right?"
The two handsome nephews nodded in absolute, synchronized unison without blinking a single time.
Alphard chuckled. He genuinely, deeply liked Sirius. His eldest nephew was incredibly similar to himself in many fundamental ways, though perhaps even more fiercely rebellious against their mother. Because of this, Alphard historically seemed to pour almost all of his familial affection exclusively into the Gryffindor boy.
But recently, he had found himself really, genuinely liking Regulus as well. He used to dismiss his youngest nephew as merely a quiet, obedient clone who looked exactly like his sister, Walburga. But now? He realized the boy's mind was terrifyingly sharp, and his quiet, calculating ambition was starting to heavily resemble Alphard's own obsessive dedication to his craft.
Uncle Al's private alchemy lab was located deep in the reinforced basement of the country villa.
After descending a long, winding spiral stone staircase, Alphard gracefully waved his wand. Instantly, the entire, sprawling laboratory was beautifully illuminated by a network of gentle, floating, silvery magical flames.
A massive, cavernous basement—supported by several thick granite load-bearing columns and lined with dozens of heavily warded, closed iron doors—appeared before Regulus's wide eyes.
"Take your time and look around as much as you please," Alphard said with a proud smile, gesturing to the open central area. "But I absolutely forbid you to open any of those sealed iron doors set into the walls. Those individual testing labs contain highly volatile materials that are far too dangerous for underage wizards."
The main laboratory, built entirely of tough, magically reinforced granite, exuded a cold, sharp, metallic smell of ozone and burning herbs. Countless heavy wooden storage cabinets lined the walls, stuffed with rare ingredients. Hanging above the cabinets were ancient, crumbling scrolls and several magical portraits bearing mysterious, glowing alchemical symbols.
Walking along the wall, Regulus easily recognized the classic, triangular alchemical symbol for Vulcan (Fire). He spotted a moving portrait of Nicolas Flamel, and surprisingly, Regulus seemed to clearly recognize the stern, bewigged face of... Sir Isaac Newton?!
Wait. Yes, that is literally Sir Isaac Newton, Regulus realized, staring at the portrait of the famous Muggle physicist, who was currently furiously scribbling mathematical equations on a chalkboard in the painting. Was Newton secretly a wizard studying alchemy? In this universe, it actually makes perfect sense.
Further down the wall, there was also a beautifully painted portrait of an ancient Chinese Alchemical engineer with a deeply ethereal, flowing air. The elegant characters "Great Nine Provinces Discuss the Evolution of Heaven" were written in delicate small seal script on the side of the painting.
Regulus immediately recognized the man from his collection of Chocolate Frog cards; it was Zou Yan, the legendary, foundational Alchemy scholar and philosopher from the Chinese Warring States period.
In the very center of the massive room sat several large, reinforced oak worktables. They were completely covered with an incredibly chaotic assortment of complex tools: delicate crystal and glass distillation containers of various sizes, twisting copper pipes, and a vastly more comprehensive collection of specialized, rare-metal crucibles than could ever be found for sale in Diagon Alley. On one of the tables lay several heavily yellowed, ancient hardcover grimoires, practically buried beneath a towering pile of heavily scribbled parchment and broken quill pens. Various discarded, half-finished metallic tools scattered on the stone floor gleamed in the silver light.
Bright, multi-colored magical flames flickered continuously in a massive forge in the corner, and two other smaller, highly specialized alchemical stoves hissed softly on the main table.
Regulus intensely, greedily observed every single detail before him, desperately wishing he possessed a photographic memory so he could perfectly imprint the exact shape of the complex ventilation shafts and cooling pipes into his mind.
He had previously only ever seen fully equipped alchemy labs rendered in video games like World of Warcraft and The Witcher 3. But Uncle Al's real-life, functioning lab looked infinitely more complex, highly dangerous, and surprisingly... modern.
"Uncle Al... what exactly is this?" Regulus asked with a highly strange, incredulous look on his face, pointing directly at a massive, heavy yellow mechanical box sitting squatly under one of the worktables.
"Ah! That is a heavy-duty Muggle diesel generator," Alphard said brightly, patting the metal casing affectionately. "I unfortunately only have two of them functioning right now. I use them for aggressively researching some of the Muggles' own fascinating power sources... what do they call it again? Ah, yes—electricity."
I bow to your absolute genius, Regulus thought, completely mind-blown.
Are all true, passionate people who enjoy inventing and scientific research really this fundamentally open-minded? Regulus wondered. In almost every fantasy story, these brilliant, progressive inventors were constantly violently suppressed by the conservative, blood-purist forces within the Wizarding World.
The canonical script suddenly sounded incredibly familiar. A massive, brilliant smile spread across Regulus's face. Uncle Al would absolutely, undeniably have a massive amount of things in common with Mr. Arthur Weasley!
Wait a minute, Regulus rapidly calculated the timeline. Arthur Weasley must be in his early twenties right now, actively working his way up in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, right? Bill Weasley might even be born by now.
Should I try to secretly establish contact and fund Arthur Weasley's department as well? Regulus added it to his ever-growing mental checklist.
Alphard observed his two nephews with great, affectionate interest. The fundamental differences in their personalities were truly, starkly evident in their immediate actions.
Sirius had immediately, excitedly drawn his wand and was currently aggressively poking at a bubbling, hissing brass furnace, clearly desperate to see what it would do. Regulus, however, had completely ignored the flashy toys. He had quickly located the stack of heavy, foundational introductory books Alphard had specifically prepared for them. The younger boy's face was currently contorted into a deep, highly stressed frown as he rapidly flipped through the dense pages.
"So, what are your initial thoughts, boys?" Alphard asked, walking over to the worktable after letting them explore for a while.
"This is so incredibly cool!" Sirius exclaimed simply, his excitement and sheer anticipation shining brightly in his grey eyes. He had absolutely loved Uncle Al's weird, rule-breaking magic gadgets since he was a small child, but Uncle Al had always strictly insisted it wasn't time for him to learn the dangerous mechanics behind them.
Regulus nodded slowly, but his visible enthusiasm wasn't quite as high as Sirius had expected... mostly because... Regulus had just horrifically discovered exactly what was contained within the five massive, brick-like textbooks Uncle Al had casually placed on the table for them to "review."
The required reading covered: Highly Advanced Transfiguration Spell Theory, Alchemical Semiotics and Runic Translation, Ancient Runes grammar, three-dimensional spatial Geometry, and even a massive, heavily annotated Oxford University Press textbook on advanced Latin grammar...
That's amazing... Regulus thought weakly, staring at the math book. Well, at least I already know high school geometry from my past life. I don't have to relearn the Pythagorean theorem... That might save me a few weeks of agonizing study time?
Regulus looked over at his brother, who was still happily poking the furnace. Did Sirius—the teenage boy who canonically created the impossibly complex Marauder's Map and successfully magically modified a Muggle flying motorcycle—actually sit down and learn all of this agonizing, foundational math and theory here in this basement?!
My older brother truly is a terrifyingly talented, naturally brilliant genius with an incredibly open mind, Regulus realized with a newfound, deep respect.
"Uncle Al... when exactly do we begin?" Regulus asked with a highly bitter, exhausted expression, turning the heavy geometry textbook toward his uncle.
"Hahaha!" Alphard burst into loud, genuine laughter. The sheer, horrified despair on his younger nephew's face was simply too funny.
"You two can go first," Uncle Al asked, leaning against the table. "What specific branch of crafting are you most interested in pursuing?"
Sirius was obviously deeply fond of creating all sorts of highly strange, unusual magic prank items and actively modifying heavy Muggle machinery. However, he had recently listened extensively to Regulus's so-called "grand business plans" for mass-producing defensive magic items, and he was highly interested in the tactical application of that idea.
"I am currently most interested in aggressively developing communication and physical positioning technologies," Regulus stated clearly, tapping the table. "The Muggles can already actively use orbiting satellites, transatlantic telegraphs, and early radio technologies to achieve instantaneous, long-distance communication across entire oceans! Although this advanced technology has not yet been widely adopted by every single household, it's coming. We wizards, on the other hand, are already massively, humiliatingly lagging behind them in this area. We still rely on birds!"
Upon hearing this highly progressive, fiercely pro-Muggle technological assessment coming from a twelve-year-old Black, Alphard was deeply, genuinely taken aback.
Regulus pushed forward. "I hope to use Alchemy to first establish a secure, instantaneous information-sharing and communication framework exclusively within Hogwarts. I think one of the absolute biggest, most dangerous problems with the school is the total, highly segregated lack of rapid communication between the various Houses—"
"This entire concept was heavily inspired by the two-way mirrors you gave us, Uncle Al," Regulus explained. He reached into his robe, pulled out two blank, identical pieces of square parchment, and handed one of them directly to Alphard.
Sirius smirked and also pulled out a piece of parchment of the exact same size from his own pocket. This was the highly secret prototype they had been obsessively experimenting with during the long summer nights.
Regulus picked up a sharp quill from the worktable, pressed it to his parchment, and quickly wrote a single, iconic line of text:
"Hello World!"
(Unfortunately, absolutely no one in the 1970s wizarding world seemed to appreciate or understand the classic Muggle programmer joke. Regulus sighed internally. He would still have to wait another five long years for the publication of "The C Programming Language" before anyone would get it.)
(´▽｀)
Instantly, the exact same line of handwritten text began to slowly, clearly materialize on the blank parchment currently held in Alphard's hands, as well as the piece held by Sirius. Ten seconds later, the ink faded, and the message completely disappeared, leaving the parchment blank once again.
"This is currently utilizing only the absolute most basic, foundational Copying Spells and Revealing Charms, combined with some highly volatile structural tricks we found in a basic Transfiguration text," Regulus explained smoothly. "However, it is highly flawed. It can currently only be used within a very short, localized physical range, and the message degrades and disappears far too quickly..."
"At Grimmauld Place, whenever we want to communicate silently across the house at night without waking anyone, we use this prototype instead of yelling," Sirius added proudly. "Kreacher's hearing is terrifyingly good; that elf can literally hear a pin drop three floors away."
"Yes, and we also successfully managed to add a little localized sensory magic to the paper, making it glow slightly warm to the touch whenever a new message comes in, acting as a silent notification," Regulus added.
"Regulus insists on calling this highly impressive piece of magic a 'beta prototype,'" Sirius said, using air quotes.
What Sirius didn't loudly mention to their uncle was that Regulus had explicitly told him that once they finally handed this functional prototype over to a true Alchemical expert (Alphard) to refine the underlying code... Regulus could finally comfortably retire into the role of a hands-off, highly demanding 'Product Manager,' and wouldn't actually have to work hard 'writing the grueling code' himself anymore.
They had naturally adopted the Muggle phrase "writing code" as a highly effective, modern euphemism for the agonizing process of layering complex enchantments to create magic items.
Needless to say, this incredibly lazy, highly efficient delegation strategy was yet another brilliant, corporate idea from Regulus.
"I desperately want to research how to make these written messages persistent and scrollable. And in addition to basic one-on-one communication, the network absolutely needs to be able to be shared and viewed securely by multiple, verified people simultaneously in a 'group chat' format, and so on..."
Regulus rapidly explained the various, highly complex, modern smartphone-esque ideas that were constantly running through his mind, while Sirius eagerly chimed in to add to the tactical applications.
"You boys absolutely amaze me," Alphard said softly. His dark eyes were wide, completely filled with genuine, overwhelming admiration and deep excitement.
Alphard slammed his hands down on the worktable, a massive grin breaking across his face. "Alright! I'm taking both of you on as my official apprentices!"