The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

In October at Hogwarts, the rain seemed to pour down from the sky rather than fall.

Julien stood at the window on the third-floor corridor, looking towards the Quidditch pitch.

Even from this distance, he could make out those blurry figures struggling in the rain—red and yellow intertwined, like two blobs of paint soaked in water.

Lee Jordan's commentary was torn apart by the strong wind, with only a few words occasionally hurled towards the castle: "Cedric... scored... Quaffle..."

The competition had captured everyone's attention. This was exactly what he needed. He turned and walked toward the one-eyed witch statue.

Recently, Julien discovered a shortage of a certain medicine while practicing alchemy—the juice of the Silent Lotus.

Elizabeth wrote to her grandmother to ask, but her grandmother didn't know either. However, she told them that Diagon Alley might exist, but the exact location was unclear. They could ask the owner of the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmeade.

Elizabeth also had a special key made for her home to return to Hogsmeade Village, so she could quickly return after their mission.

Liria then asked her family for the "Tears of Eternity" made from aurora. It served a purifying purpose during the repair of the eternally dark sundial.

Julien had already arranged to deliver the goods at the Leaky Cauldron.

Julien knew several routes leading out of the school, but given the current tight security at the school, the safest route was the one leading from the One-Eyed Witch statue to the Honeydukes candy shop.

The statue stood at the corner of the corridor, its face blurred, its single eye gleaming eerily in the lightning. Julien tapped the statue's back lightly with his wand and whispered the incantation he had bought from the twins: "Separate left and right."

Julien sought out the twins to double-check the details and also bought them some candies that could slightly alter one's appearance.

Of course, he was also somewhat interested in the Marauder's Map. But clearly, he wasn't the "savior" Harry Potter, and the twins had no intention of giving him the Marauder's Map.

A crack appeared in the statue's hunchback, revealing a dark passage behind it. Julien slipped inside, immediately enveloped in a damp, musty smell.

The passage was narrow and low; although the young wizard wasn't forced to stoop to walk, he figured Hagrid definitely couldn't get in.

Water droplets seeped onto the stone wall, appearing like countless prying eyes in the dim light of the magic wand.

After walking for nearly twenty minutes, he first turned left for almost a hundred steps, then turned right for several dozen meters, and the sweetness of the chocolate frog became stronger and stronger.

Above the end of the passage was a trapdoor. Julien pushed it open, and in the cellar of Honeydukes, shelves were piled high with boxes of cockroaches. He held his breath and slipped out the back door, stepping into the streets of Hogsmeade.

The rain intensified, and the stone path turned into a rushing stream.

Julien pulled his hood down low and hurried along the street. The windows of the Three Brooms Bar were bright and warm, and business was good because customers were taking shelter from the rain; Madame Rosmerta's laughter could be heard clearly even in the downpour.

Pig Head Bar is located at the end of a narrow alley on the edge of the village. The alley is so narrow that only two people can walk side by side, and the eaves of the houses on both sides almost touch, filtering the sunlight into a thin, gray line.

If Julien hadn't carefully inquired with the twin brothers beforehand, he would most likely have walked straight past them.

Julien pushed open the heavy oak door, and a strong smell of goat odor wafted out, mixed with the damp smell of aged wood and a certain indescribable, sour and sweet aftertaste of alcohol.

The smell is so overpowering, like an invisible net that envelops you completely. Newcomers instinctively wrinkle their noses, but regulars are used to it—or rather, they don't come here to enjoy any pleasant atmosphere.

The room contained only one large hall, and the windows were covered with thick, black grime, like an old gauze curtain, filtering out the already limited light from outside into a dim, yellowish hue.

The tables and chairs were old and crooked, no two were alike. The bar counter was the sturdiest thing in the whole room, a thick, dark oak plank worn smooth by time.

In contrast to the Three Brooms Bar, the torrential rain left the place deserted, except for a tall, thin old man standing behind the bar counter, slowly wiping glasses with a cloth whose original color was no longer discernible.

The old man had long, disheveled gray hair and beard. Even when Julien's opening of the door startled him, he merely glanced at him indifferently, without making a move to speak first.

"Boss, hello." Julien walked up to the bar and greeted him.

The figure raised his head, and Julien noticed that one of his eyes was cloudy and white, while the other was sharp as a hawk's. Because Julien knew the plot, he knew that this old man was Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth Dumbledore; otherwise, he might have been genuinely startled.

"Minor, what do you want?" Aberforth's voice was hoarse. "Here to buy wine? Or to buy a way out?"

"Flour. To Diagon Alley." Julien paused, carefully choosing his words, "I also wanted to ask about..."

"Why are you asking about things when you're so young and not in school? That costs a different price."

"Golden Galleons, no problem," Julien said, mimicking his father's tone. "I want the sap of the Silent Lotus. Where can I get it?"

Aberforth's hand, which was wiping the wine glass, stopped. His sharp eyes scanned Julien from head to toe: from the rain dripping from the edge of the hood to the faint outline of the wand visible on the cuff, and finally settled on his face—that face that still bore the traces of a boy's innocence.

"Silent Lotus?" Aberforth repeated, his voice carrying an emotion that Julien could not decipher.

He put down his wine glass and stared intently at Julien.

"Do you know what that is, kid?" His voice deepened, as if squeezed from the depths of his throat.

"Three drops of the sap from the Silent Lotus can turn drinking water into poison. Seven drops can trap a dragon in a dream. As for the dosage used in alchemy—" He held up a withered finger, "at least fifteen drops are needed to create a 'concept anchoring agent'."

Julien's heart skipped a beat. Aberforth was referring to the recipe Grindelwald had taught him—the crucial step used to stabilize the core runes of the Eternal Darkness Sundial.

"How...how did you know?"

"Me?" Aberforth's lips twisted, it could be a smile, or it could be some kind of facial muscle spasm. "Don't ask about things you shouldn't know."

He leaned forward, his cloudy eyes suddenly clearing like the moon breaking through the clouds: "But what surprises me is, at your age, why would you need something like this? 'Concept Anchoring Agent' is a special material for repairing ancient seals, usually only—"

He paused, not continuing.

Julien's blood ran cold. Aberforth knew something too, not necessarily everything, but enough.

"I'm just learning," Julien said calmly, "from a...private tutor."

"A private tutor?" Aberforth repeated, his voice regaining its lazy, hoarse quality. "Then it's not Albus, is it?"

Julien's fingers tightened, and his wand vibrated in his sleeve.

"Don't be nervous, little guy." Aberforth stepped back and picked up the wine glass that could never be wiped clean again. "I don't care what you're doing. If Aberforth doesn't care, why should I?"

"But unfortunately, the 'Silent Lotus' sap isn't in Diagon Alley," he said, turning to the liquor shelf and taking a dusty bottle from the top shelf. "The goods in Diagon Alley are too clean, too legal, so there's not much of it. What you want is in Knockturn Alley, at the 'Seraphina Graves' apothecary."

Julien nodded in deep agreement. He remembered that in the original story, Hagrid needed insecticide, but it wasn't available in Diagon Alley; he had to go to Knockturn Alley to find it.

The old man pushed the bottle over. It didn't contain liquid, but rather some kind of dry, petal-shaped fragment, a color between purplish-black and dark blue.

“This is the introduction,” Aberforth said. “Mrs. Graves will recognize it and know you were… referred by her. It may not be cheap, but at least it won’t be a fake.”

"Thank you so much, you're a good person," Julien said sincerely.

"Tch." The old man scoffed. "20 Galleons, thank you. By the way, whether you can get out of Knockturn Alley is not my problem."

Julien nodded without saying a word.

"The fireplace's inside," Aberforth pointed deeper into the bar, a faint green light peeking through the half-closed door. "The Floo powder for Diagon Alley is in the jar next to the fireplace. But remember, go through the back of the Leaky Cauldron, not the front. There are people watching."

"And another thing," he leaned down again, his voice extremely low, "if you see a man wearing a withered rose badge, that's the Rozier family's contact."

Julien was somewhat surprised this time. It turned out Aberforth knew more. He nodded again and put the brochure into his inner robe pocket. The gold coins jingled on the counter, but Aberforth didn't even glance at them.