The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

Julien looked at the expected acceptance letter in his hand and turned to look at his grandfather with delight. Alpha also had a relieved smile on his face. Although he had kept telling Julien that the Black family would definitely get into Hogwarts, he finally felt a weight lifted off his shoulders.

Meanwhile, in the library of Yulian's spiritual space, the librarian Murphy was lazily lying on a pile of new books, his tail curling up and swaying with a quill pen.

The title of the new book beneath him is: *The Hogwarts Survival Guide*.

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Julien's birthday party had been over for several days, and he treasured the Hogwarts acceptance letter in the bottom secret compartment of his bedside table, along with the willow wand his grandfather had given him.

That evening after dinner, the family sat around in the living room. Alfred cleared his throat, breaking the silence: "Altair, Clara, there's something we need to talk about."

Father Altair put down the financial newspaper he was reading, and Mother Clara looked up from her account books. "What is it, Father?"

"Regarding Shiller's school," Alfard's gaze was gentle yet firm, "I've already made arrangements for him—Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Hogwarts?" Clara frowned, repeating the tongue-twisting name. "Sounds like a private boarding school in Scotland? Was it recommended by an old friend from your time in England?"

"No, dear," Alphad explained patiently, "it's not an ordinary boarding school. It's a... magic school."

After he finished speaking, the living room fell into a deathly silence.

Altair paused for a moment, then burst into laughter, a hearty laugh tinged with confusion: "Father, how many glasses of your 'special brew' did you drink today? Magic school? You mean the kind of place that teaches children magic tricks and card games? Or like a circus, where they train lions?"

Clara didn't laugh, but her eyes were full of worry and confusion.

She looked at her son, her tone gentle yet tinged with reproach: "Shillem, did you tell your grandfather some strange stories? Magic, wizards... these fairy tales are just for listening to, not to be taken seriously. Your future should be at Eton College, or Oxford or Cambridge."

Julien opened his mouth, wanting to say something in his defense, but his grandfather gently pressed down on his shoulder.

Only Grandma Elodie didn't immediately offer her opinion. She picked up her teacup, gently blew on the steam, and her gaze thoughtfully shifted between her husband and grandson.

As the daughter of the Morrow family, she had heard some ancient rumors about "special people" when she was young, but she had never seen them with her own eyes.

At that moment, seeing her husband's unprecedentedly serious expression, and thinking about the special nature of their own wine, a ripple of emotion stirred within her.

"This is not a fairy tale, nor is it a magic trick." Alfard's voice became steady, carrying an unquestionable sense of authority.

"Shillem has the Black family blood flowing through his veins, and he possesses true magical talent. Hogwarts is the only place that can teach him to control this power and allow him to grow up safely."

"The Black family?" Altair's smile vanished, replaced by a shrewd, businessman-like scrutiny. "Father, I always thought it was just an old surname. Is there some secret about our family that I don't know about?"

"The Black family used to be a wizarding family, and Shiller is a wizard, so he needs to attend wizarding school."

"Oh my god, how is this possible!" Clara exclaimed.

"Yes," Julien couldn't help but say, "I've received my Hogwarts acceptance letter." With that, Julien took out the parchment letter and placed it on the table.

"Isn't this a prank?" Altair said incredulously as he looked at the letter. "Look, it even requires a crucible. This must be something from hundreds of years ago."

"Whether you believe it or not, I still hope you can keep this a secret for Julien," Alfander said in a deep voice.

"What, is this still a dangerous thing?" Clara's first thought was for her son's safety.

"Even without you telling me, I won't tell anyone that my son is a wizard; it's absurd!" Altair said.

Just as the family was arguing and each member had their own thoughts, the doorbell rang.

"Ding-dong—"

The crisp ringing of the doorbell sounded particularly jarring in the tense atmosphere. Clara got up to open the door, still thinking that perhaps it was a wrong delivery.

An elderly woman in a dark green robe stood outside the door. Her hair was styled in an extremely neat bun, and she wore square glasses that framed sharp, eagle-like eyes.

Her appearance seemed to freeze the air in the entire corridor.

"Good evening," her voice was clear and crisp, carrying a hint of undeniable authority. "Is this the home of Mr. Schillerm Julien Black?"

Clara was stunned, then nodded instinctively: "Yes, may I ask who you are?"

"I am Minerva McGonagall, Vice Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Professor McGonagall nodded slightly, her gaze passing over Clara and landing precisely on Julien in the living room, a hint of inquiry flashing in her eyes.

"Hogwarts?" Clara exclaimed, turning to look at her husband and father-in-law.

Altair immediately stood up, his face full of vigilance.

A stranger dressed in a strange robe, claiming to be from a "magic school," visits late at night—it all seems like a scam.

He strode to the door, blocking his wife's path, and said curtly, "Ms. McGonagall, I'm sorry, but we have no interest in so-called 'magic schools.' My son will receive a proper, scientific education. Please leave."

Professor McGonagall's lips curled down slightly, clearly no stranger to this Muggle-like arrogance. Her gaze shifted to Alphad, who sat at the head of the table in the living room, and he nodded to her, indicating that she could enter.

“Mr. Black,” Professor McGonagall’s voice remained calm, yet carried an undeniable force, “I know this is hard to believe. But allow me to demonstrate to you that your so-called ‘orthodox, scientific education’ cannot explain what is about to happen.”

As she spoke, she raised her hand, but instead of using her wand, she simply waved it lightly.

In the living room, the financial newspaper that Altair had casually placed on the coffee table suddenly moved on its own without any wind, the pages rustling.

Then, to everyone's astonishment, the newspaper slowly rose into the air, folded and flipped in mid-air, and finally transformed into a lifelike crane!

The crane flapped its wings, circled the dumbfounded Altair once, and finally landed gently beside him.

"This...this is impossible!" Altair froze on the spot, reaching out to touch the crane beside him. The delicate feathers and sharp beak felt so real that it sent chills down his spine.

Clara covered her mouth, her eyes wide as if she had witnessed the most incredible miracle in the world. She murmured to herself, "My God..."

Grandma Elodie sat up straight, her eyes no longer thoughtful, but filled with undisguised shock and understanding. She looked at her husband and whispered, "Alphad, so... it's true."