The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

On Thursday morning, on the hillside at the edge of the forbidden forest, the mist had just dissipated, and the pearls on the leaves had not yet completely evaporated.

Julien followed the group of young wizards along the winding path toward the woods near Hagrid's hut. Strictly speaking, this was already part of the Forbidden Forest. Most of the young wizards were filled with excitement and a touch of trepidation.

More than half of the third-grade wizards this year have taken the Magical Creatures Conservation course.

Even though most people chose this course because it was mainly held outdoors—which was indeed more interesting than other courses—Hagrid was a little smug and decided to start with something big.

"Is everyone here?" Hagrid's booming voice interrupted the chattering of the young wizards.

The half-giant stood before them, wearing a huge mole-skin coat and holding a pair of enormous shears that looked like they were used to trim trees—Julien thought they must be tools for handling the feathers of a hippogriff.

Unlike other professors who begin with a formal introduction, Hagrid went straight to the point: "Today, we're going to learn about..." Hagrid paused deliberately, his eyes gleaming with excitement, "...the hippogriff!"

He stepped aside, revealing a majestic creature behind him.

It was about twelve feet tall, with the front half of its body resembling a giant eagle—a sharp beak, orange-yellow eyes, and silver-grey feathers; and the rear half resembling a steed—smooth muscle lines, iron-grey coat, and strong hooves.

What is most striking is its pair of wings that occasionally unfold, with a wingspan of up to 5 meters.

"Merlin's trousers," Daphne Greengrass gasped, whispering quietly to Elizabeth, her long, light blonde hair fluttering in the morning breeze.

"Is it really a hippogriff? My father said that the Malfoys once tried to tame one, and ended up losing three house-elves."

"I guess they always misunderstand 'respect' as 'charity'," Elizabeth said, her arms crossed over her chest, a few leaves hanging from her dark green cloak.

Her icy grey eyes met the hippogriff's gaze for a moment, and she whispered in Daphne's ear, "They can sense arrogance, just as Dementors can sense fear and pleasure."

"They are proud," Hagrid's voice softened, his gaze towards the hippogriff filled with affection, "very proud. You must bow to them first and wait for them to return the bow before you can approach. If they refuse—" he gestured to the hippogriff's claws, sharp enough to tear steel, "don't try to be brave."

"Of course, if you win its favor, you can even ride it and fly through the sky. Come on, who wants to try?"

"Mr. Black," Hagrid suddenly called out, "would you be willing to be the first to try?"

Julien paused for a moment. In the original story, Harry was supposed to be the first to try it, but clearly his presence had changed some details.

He could feel the gazes of his classmates—some expectant, some worried, and some with the schadenfreude of Malfoy, waiting to see the show.

“It would be an honor, Professor Hagrid.” Julien stepped forward, whispering to Elizabeth and Liria, “Look into its eyes, not with arrogance, but with vigilance. It’s assessing whether I can be trusted.”

"How did you know?" Liria asked softly.

Julien didn't turn back. "At the core of all proud creatures is fear. Only by understanding fear can we build connections." These were Grindelwald's original words.

He stopped ten feet away from the hippogriff.

"Its name is Buckbeak, you may now bow to it."

At this moment, Buckbeak was looking down at Julien from his high position, his orange-yellow eyes gleaming with scrutiny.

Julien could feel the weight of that gaze, as if tangible pressure was testing his will.

He bowed slowly, his movements fluid and solemn, not in a humble submission, but in an equal gesture of respect. His right hand hung naturally at his side, then rested on his chest.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

Buckbeak lowered its head slightly, blinked its sharp eyes, and then—it returned the greeting.

Its enormous head bowed slightly, its wings spread out and then folded back in, emitting a low, almost satisfied cry.

"That's fantastic!" Hagrid's voice trembled with excitement. "Mr. Black, you can go and pet it now! Remember, in the direction of the feathers!"

Julien stepped forward slowly, raising his right hand gently. The instant his fingertips touched the feathers on Buckbeak's neck, a wisp of quicksand seemed to slip through Julien's fingers, and a strange resonance seemed to emerge between the two creatures.

"This is—" Julien's pupils contracted slightly.

He saw it. Not through his eyes, but through some deeper perception. Buckbeak's memories, or rather, the ancient heritage of the hippogriff race:

The sky, the endless firmament, the unbridled freedom above the clouds; then the fall, the confinement, the imprisonment on a small, isolated island; finally, Hagrid, those gentle, large hands, and the hillside at the edge of this pumpkin patch.

"You can feel it too, can't you?" Julien said softly, his fingers tracing Buckbeak's feathers. "There are your kind there, aren't there? Or rather—those who used to be your kind."

Buckbeak let out a sharp cry, not an attack, but some kind of response. Its wings spread wide, casting a huge shadow over Julien, and then—it bent its front knees and made a move that shocked everyone.

It was inviting Julien to ride on it.

"Merlin's feet," Hagrid muttered to himself, "I've never seen Buckbeak invite anyone out on his own initiative..."

"Julien!" Elizabeth's voice came from behind, "Watch out!"

"I know," Julien turned back and gave her and Liria a reassuring smile. "It's just a test flight. It won't be too far."

He grasped the feathers around Buckbeak's neck, using them to leap onto its back. The muscles of the hippogriff taut beneath him, and then—

Gale.

Buckbeak's wings flapped through the air, the immense force propelling them into the sky. Julien leaned forward, feeling the air rushing past his ears. The Forbidden Forest, the castle, the Black Lake—everything shrank in his field of vision, transforming into a delicate painting.

But Julien was not captivated by the scenery. His right hand rested on Buckbeek's neck, resonating continuously. At this height, at this speed, his senses were amplified infinitely.

He "saw" it.

In the far north, amidst the mists of the North Sea, the solitary island floated on the water like a black scar. Numerous dark figures hovered above it, much like the shadowy figures that appeared at the various exits of Hogwarts.

Among these shadowy figures were even some hippogriffs. However, they too were entirely black and tattered. Julien could even sense their emotion through Buckbeak—despair.

"Go back, my friend," Julien said, patting Buckbeak's neck. "We've seen what we needed to see."

Buckbeak let out a long cry, turned around, and swooped down toward the ground.

As they landed safely, Hagrid rushed over and gave Julien a hug that nearly broke his spine: "That was fantastic! Mr. Black, you're a born animal trainer!"

"Just lucky, Professor Hagrid," Julien said with a smile, his gaze passing over Hagrid's shoulder to meet that of Elizabeth and Lyria.

"Next, who wants to try?" Hagrid turned to the other students. "Remember, you must bow and wait for a return bow!"

Malfoy approached, his platinum hair gleaming in the sunlight, and said in a drawn-out tone, "This seems simple enough. My father said that hippogriffs are nothing but—"

"Malfoy!" Hagrid warned, but it was too late.