The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

"Mr. Black," Snape suddenly called out, his voice like a dagger piercing the air, "since you seem so dismissive of textbooks—tell me, how do you distinguish a real werewolf from an Animagus wolf in disguise?"

Julien slowly stood up, feeling the entire class's gaze on him: "Professor, werewolves' pupils enlarge and take on a unique yellow color after transformation, and they cannot retain human reason; while Animagus eyes retain their original human characteristics. Furthermore..."

He paused deliberately, looking into Snape's eyes, "Werewolf bites are contagious, while Animagus bites only leave ordinary teeth marks."

Snape's dark eyes narrowed, like two snakes poised to strike: "So, if a wizard disappears regularly each month and returns in tattered clothes with unexplained wounds, what is the most likely diagnosis?"

The classroom suddenly became eerily quiet. Hermione's pen fell onto the desk with a crisp "thud."

"It might be..." Julien chose his words carefully, "...some kind of chronic illness that requires the wolfsbane potion, sir."

Snape stared at him for a long time, then slowly nodded. "Sit down. Ravenclaw, one point—for your extra reading, which was clearly beyond the scope of the curriculum."

When the bell rang, Snape was the first to leave the classroom, his black robes billowing as he disappeared down the corridor, leaving behind a room full of confused and depressed young wizards.

After lunch, Julien stuffed his divination textbook into his backpack and left the restaurant with Elizabeth, Liria, and a group of young wizards.

She heard hurried footsteps behind her, accompanied by the dull thud of books clattering together. "Julien," Hermione's voice held that characteristic, unwavering urgency, "wait!"

Julien turned around and saw Hermione squeezing through the crowd, her brown hair even more disheveled than it had been in class that morning—as if she had not only made a trip to the library during this short lunch break, but had also gotten into a fight with a bookshelf.

She was holding a huge book in her arms, which almost covered half of her face, but the gaze from her brown eyes above the pages was still sharp.

"Julien, I'd like to speak with you alone." Hermione's questioning gaze first fell on Elizabeth and Lyria.

Elizabeth smiled and said, "You two chat first, Liria and I will go to the North Building first." After saying that, she pulled Liria away first.

"You knew something all along, didn't you?" Hermione asked in a low voice as Elizabeth and Elizabeth walked away.

"It's no coincidence that Professor Snape skipped ahead to talk about werewolves today. Judging from your expression, you should have guessed it already..."

Julien adjusted his backpack straps to his shoulders, his gaze passing over Hermione's head to the window at the end of the corridor, creaking in the autumn wind.

Outside the window, the branches of the willow tree were swaying slowly in the twilight, like a giant beast that had just awakened stretching its limbs.

"Hermione," he began, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper, "you should have noticed by now that Professor Snape is concocting a wolfsbane potion. Why is he doing this?"

Hermione paused, then frowned even more deeply: "You mean, he's helping Lucas...? That's impossible, he clearly..."

"Hermione, when we make judgments, we should look at what he did, not what he said," Julien interrupted her, his emerald eyes turning back to look directly at Hermione.

"Books can lie, language can disguise, but actions are solidified facts. This applies to humans, and of course to...non-humans as well."

He paused, then added pointedly, "For example, Lockhart last year. No matter how eloquently he spoke or how brilliantly he wrote, his actions tell us what kind of person he is."

"So whether we look at Professor Snape or Professor Lupin, we have to look at their actions to determine whether they are trustworthy," Julien bluntly stated.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat for a moment. Her fingers unconsciously gripped the edge of the book, her knuckles turning white. "You...you really did..."

"However, I must remind you that the trust I'm referring to is during non-full moon times." Julien smiled at the end, a smile tinged with a weariness that Hermione couldn't decipher.

"Alright, I need to hurry to the North Tower. Professor Trelawney's class won't wait until we've finished discussing all the biological characteristics of werewolves. And you, you're going to your Ancient Runes class, aren't you?"

"I...I...I might go to a divination class too," Hermione suddenly said, sounding flustered. "I haven't decided yet."

Julien smiled and winked, then turned and left, his robes trailing in an arc behind him, leaving Hermione standing there, her brown eyes gleaming with a mixture of confusion and unease.

The staircase in the North Tower, as always, was dizzyingly winding. Julien, Elizabeth, and Liria passed through the trapdoor that seemed to lead to another dimension and stepped into the classroom, which was submerged in purple silk.

The air was thick with the sweet scent of aged tea leaves and lavender, and the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling seemed to be enchanted, emitting a morbid, ambiguous light that hung between dusk and dawn.

"Today we will learn crystal ball divination." Professor Trelawney still had her messy, medium-length brown hair loose, and her voice had that signature ethereal quality, as if it came from a very far place.

Today she was wrapped in a thicker, bright purple shawl, and around her neck hung at least three different necklaces, each adorned with crystals of various shapes.

Julien led Elizabeth and Liria to a window seat. Both women knew Julien's peculiar tastes; he liked to hide in corners and observe others' behavior.

Of course, Julien does enjoy comparing the similarities and differences between reality and the original work; in his words, he "checks off" these differences.

"The crystal ball is not a toy," Professor Trelawney continued, her large, watery eyes behind her glasses scanning the classroom. "It is a window to the subconscious, a net to capture the threads of destiny. Now, please form groups at each table and observe the crystal ball in front of you..."

Just then, the classroom door was pushed open again. Hermione Granger stood there, panting, her hair disheveled, wearing a sweater that Julien had never seen before.

It was a dark blue sweater with white stripes at the neckline, whereas the one she wore that morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts class was Gryffindor red.

What's even stranger is that she wasn't holding the thick book that Julien and the others had seen earlier, but rather a divination textbook.

While Trelawney wasn't looking, Hermione quietly sat down at Harry and Ron's table. Julien noticed that her steps were unsteady, as if she had just finished a long run.

As she sat down, Harry and Ron exchanged a puzzled look—clearly, they didn't remember when Hermione had changed her clothes and come over.

"Now, focus," Professor Trelawney's voice rang out again. She floated over to Neville's table, then suddenly stopped. "Mr. Longbottom, tell me, what did you see?"

Neville visibly tensed up, staring wide-eyed at the crystal ball before him. After a long while, he looked up and said, "Professor, I see my crystal ball is broken."

"Um?"

The whole class chuckled softly.

"It's really broken, look. There's a crack here. That's why I can't see anything," Neville explained, his face flushed.

Trelawney leaned closer and examined it carefully.

"Hiss." Suddenly, she gasped, her head jerking back. "I saw it. This foreshadows that someone this semester will leave us forever, very soon!"

Trelawney's prophecies were affected, even mad, and did not attract the attention of most of the young wizards, because she said so many similar things.