The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

The pumpkin patch next to Hagrid's cottage took on a sickly orange-yellow hue in the twilight, like an old photograph steeped in time itself, with a viscous, cloyingly sweet scent floating in the air.

Julien stopped in his tracks before the largest pumpkin. It was as big as an oxcart, its skin crisscrossed with grooves, like the sagging face of an old man, or a tumor rising from the earth.

He stared at it for a moment before turning around and following his companion.

Hagrid's tall figure stood in the doorway waving at them, firelight spilling from the house behind him.

"Julien, you should go first." The giant's voice was deep, like a muffled boulder rolling down a distant hill. "I appreciate your kindness, but I cannot let the young wizard see such a cruel scene."

"Alright, Hagrid, we'll be going now." Julien paused, as if he had just remembered something, "Oh, right, don't forget to give that rat to Ron. He said it's been missing for almost a week. We just happened to find it near the pumpkin patch."

"Don't worry, Julien, I'll hand it over to him."

Hagrid nodded, his large fingers stroking the unconscious mouse, completely immersed in sorrow.

He didn't notice that Julien and the other two were wearing backpacks over their school robes, which looked somewhat out of place—the curves didn't resemble books, but rather some kind of carefully folded equipment.

The three walked along the path beside the pumpkin field. As they passed Buckbeak, the hippogriff stood quietly by its tether, its wings folded, like a bronze statue in the twilight.

Julien stepped forward and stroked the feathers on its neck, feeling the warm pulse beneath his palm.

Liria followed, taking a few dead ferrets out of her pocket and feeding them to the dog. "Eat up," she whispered, her voice as soft as a night breeze across a lake, "You've had enough to eat, we still have work to do later."

Just then, the sound of arguing came from afar.

"Hermione, my 'Scars' has been missing for almost a week."

"Ron, you don't need to emphasize this to me. It's entirely your own fault for not taking good care of things."

"Everything was fine before, but ever since your Crookshan came this semester, the way it looks at 'Spotty' has been strange."

Ron's voice carried a suppressed anxiety, while Hermione's response was a hard, cold calm, as if she had been wrongly accused. Harry walked between the two, neither interrupting nor trying to mediate, simply moving forward in silence.

His gaze passed over his two friends and landed on Julien and his two companions in the distance. He suddenly quickened his pace.

"Hey, Julien, you guys are here too!" Harry ran up, his voice filled with a relieved eagerness. "I was just looking for you. I didn't expect you to arrive first."

"Yes, we came as soon as get out of class was over," Julien replied naturally. "You guys should hurry up too. Hagrid said Dumbledore, Fudge, and the executioner are coming soon."

"By the way, how's Hagrid's mood?" Harry asked.

"It's still not very good." Liria sighed.

"It's no wonder it's not getting better," Ron urged from behind. "Let's hurry up."

Hermione didn't follow immediately. Her gaze swept over the backpacks on the backs of the three of them, and her brows furrowed slightly.

"What are you going to do later?" she asked, her voice carrying Granger's characteristic seriousness that brooked no evasion. "Don't forget the school is under lockdown by Dementors, so don't wander off."

"You'll find out soon enough." Julien nodded, a cryptic smile playing on his lips. "See you later."

"What the hell?"

The afterglow of the setting sun shone on the pumpkin, and its sickly orange-yellow color suddenly trembled—as if someone had twisted the sky, and all the light shifted extremely slightly at the same instant.

Julien and the others stopped in their tracks.

"The timeline is forking," Elizabeth whispered, her icy gray eyes fixed on the compass in her hands. "Can you feel it?"

Julien and Liria nodded simultaneously. It was a feeling that was hard to describe in words—like standing at two different points in time, breathing the same air, yet hearing two different sounds of the wind.

They relied on their sensitivity to detect the anomaly in time; the subtle sense of dislocation made their skin tingle slightly.

On her way to Hagrid's hut, Hermione suddenly turned around and glanced behind her. The pumpkin patch lay quietly in the twilight, the path deserted. She frowned but didn't stop.

On the hillside behind, Hagrid's tool shed exuded the scent of aged resin and rust in the twilight. The lock on the wooden door was rusted. Elizabeth raised her wand and whispered, "Arabian open." The lock springed open with a dull click.

Julien pushed open the creaking wooden door, dust falling from the doorframe. Inside the shed were huge piles of metal tools, ropes, and animal hides, the air thick with the pungent smell of hay and some kind of animal fur.

He took out three sets of clothes from his backpack—the “Explorer Series” that he had specially ordered from the Madame Malkin Robes boutique during the summer vacation.

He took off his Ravenclaw blue-silver scarf and loose school robes, and put on the dark charcoal gray two-piece wizard battle suit.

The upper body is clad in a short, waist-length wizard jacket, a matte, rock-gray fabric blend of dragon skin and enchanted textiles. The jacket is tailored to fit snugly against the shoulders and back, with a subtle curve at the back. Wand holders are sewn inside the two cuffs, allowing the wand to slide into the palm with a slight flick of the wrist. A button-sized door key is fastened to the inside of the belt with Velcro.

The lower body was clad in matching joggers. The armor on the knees and elbows was made by alchemy, incorporating salamander scale powder into the fabric. It was as thin as a sheet of paper, yet strong enough to withstand ordinary curses. The trouser legs were tucked into ankle-length dragon-skin boots. The anti-slip runes on the soles of the boots emitted a very faint glow when moving, and a small, pop-out knife was hidden in a recessed groove on the side of the boot.

"This looks more like Auror gear than a school uniform," he said softly, tightening the waistband of his jacket. The fabric automatically contracted to fit his body—it was the "Adaptive Charm" that Madam Malkin had sewn in, and it was now making a soft rustling sound.

Elizabeth changed into the Star Ranger outfit.

She was dressed entirely in tight-fitting black riding attire, made of short-nosed dragon hide, which was form-fitting yet did not hinder large movements. The knee-length wizard trousers rippled subtly as she walked. A wand sheath was embedded in the left side of the wide leather belt around her waist, and an alchemical reagent pouch was clipped to the right side.

Her dark green cloak, lined with Thestral tail feathers, absorbed the surrounding light in the dimness, making her appear as if part of herself had dissolved into the night. Most notably, her fingerless dragon-skin gloves had a small magnet embedded in the palm, which could firmly attract the handle of a fire crossbow bolt in an emergency.

Liria's Northern Aurora outfit, on the other hand, carries a different feel.

The silver-white, close-fitting soft armor is woven from the unique ice silkworm silk of the North. It is as thin as a second skin, and its surface flows with faint aurora colors—pale green, light purple, and ice blue, as if the Northern Lights are sealed in the fibers.

Her long, silvery-white hair was not tied up, but instead adorned with tiny ice crystal pendants, the "Tears of Eternal Night" from the Northern legends. These pendants gently collided with her movements, producing a crisp sound that was almost inaudible.

Six bottles of aurora extract were inserted into the animal hide ammunition belt at his waist, the bottles emitting a cold, eerie glow in the dim light.

She wore snow leopard-skin boots lined with griffin down, and instead of socks, she wrapped her ankles in a luminous moss, the glow of warm grass shimmering faintly at the top of the boots.

"Are you ready?" Julien checked the final equipment, slid the wand into the fixing device in his sleeve, and then pulled it out to test it, confirming that it felt right.

"Alright." The two women's voices rang out almost simultaneously, one calm and steady, the other cool and aloof.

"Alright, let's go take a look." Julien pushed open the door of the tool shed. Dusk had deepened, and the pumpkin field in the distance appeared an almost rotten orange-red in the last rays of the setting sun. He took a deep breath, a hopeful smile appearing on his lips. "Don't be surprised later."

He looked down the path at the foot of the hill. He knew that in the previous timeline, Hermione, Harry, and Ron were at Hagrid's hut. And in the other timeline, another Hermione and Harry were coming this way.

What they were about to do was to snatch Buckbeak from his predetermined fate at a time when no one had anticipated it.