The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

On Hogwarts' timetable, Defense Against the Dark Arts is always the most anticipated course for new students. It is mysterious, dangerous, and full of heroic romance—after all, who wouldn't want to learn how to fight against dark creatures like Red Hats, slugs, werewolves, or even the legendary Dark Lord?

Before class started, the first-year students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were already having a lively discussion in the hallway.

"My dad said that back when he was in school, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was a retired Auror!" Brendan Cole of Hufflepuff puffed out his chest, beaming with pride. "The first lesson he taught was the Disarming Charm, which sent a Hinkpunk flying three meters away on the spot!"

"What's that?" Kayson Moretti scoffed. "My uncle studies dragons in Romania, and he says true defense against dark magic isn't about spells, but about prediction and intuition. He single-handedly saved an entire village from a horde of ghouls."

"You're kidding me!" Edgar Finch pushed up his glasses, his tone full of skepticism. "Ghouls aren't that easy to deal with. My grandmother said they can't even be dispersed by a wand; you need silver dust."

"I bet our professor is super cool!" another Hufflepuff girl exclaimed excitedly. "He might even have fought in the war against Voldemort!"

Julien walked quietly at the edge of the crowd, listening to their naive chatter, but his heart felt like it was being pressed down by ice. He knew the truth—they were about to face not some valiant Auror or legendary wizard, but a cowardly and treacherous puppet possessed by the most evil Dark Lord in history.

He deliberately slowed his pace to make himself inconspicuous, even controlling his breathing to be exceptionally steady. He couldn't attract any attention, especially from what was hidden behind the headscarf.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was located on the third floor of a shady side of the castle. When they pushed open the door to the classroom, a strong, suffocating smell of garlic hit them, almost making it hard to breathe.

The classroom curtains were drawn, the light was dim, and the walls were covered with all sorts of strange and unusual amulets. Several heavy braids of garlic hung from the ceiling, swaying gently in the wind.

They saw a thin man standing behind the podium, wearing a huge, flashy purple headscarf.

At this moment, the man was facing away from the doorway, wiping his forehead with a large handkerchief.

When the students entered the classroom, he did not immediately turn to the door. He waited until most of the students were inside and seated before turning to the blackboard to write.

He only slowly turned to face everyone after everyone was seated.

The professor was as pale as a sheet, and his eyes flickered.

"Welcome," he stammered, his voice weak and trembling, "I am your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirinus Quirrell."

A suppressed murmur immediately filled the classroom.

"Is this the professor?" Justin, sitting in the front row, turned around, his face full of disappointment, and muttered under his breath, "He looks... like he might faint at any moment."

"This garlic smell is too strong!" Kayson wrinkled his nose and fanned the air with his hand.

Julien lowered his eyes, remaining expressionless.

He knew that the garlic was merely Quirrell's clumsy attempt to mask Voldemort's scent, and an outward manifestation of his inner fear. He involuntarily shrank back, trying to minimize his presence.

Professor Quirrell seemed to sense the students' doubts. He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound more steady: "I know... I might look a little... different. It's to get rid of vampires..."

……

"Will this really help us avoid vampires?" Edgar asked in a low voice.

"Who knows?" Kayson chuckled.

Quirrell continued rambling on the podium, "...But believe me, my research into dark magic is extremely profound. I once lived alone in the Black Forest of Albania for a year, tracking and documenting countless dark creatures... The dark power there... is very... very powerful."

As he spoke, his gaze momentarily deepened, as if peering through the classroom walls towards some distant and terrifying place. Julien felt a chill run down his spine—Albania was the very place where Voldemort's spirit had wandered.

Perhaps this wasn't what Quirrell himself wanted to say.

The lecture officially began. Professor Quirrell opened his textbook with trembling hands and stammered, "Today, we will learn how to identify the most basic dark creature—the Red Hat."

His teaching was dull and tedious, basically just reading from the textbook, his speech incoherent, and he was frequently interrupted by his own coughs. The students, who had initially been full of expectations, quickly lost interest; some began to secretly flip through other books, while others idly fiddled with their magic wands.

Julien suddenly felt a gaze sweep over him. It wasn't from Professor Quirrell's eyes, which were blinking nervously, but from behind his headscarf—a cold, viscous gaze, filled with intense inquiry, like a venomous snake, silently coiling around him.

He knew it was Voldemort.

Julien's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't show it on his face. He simply lowered his head slightly and blended into the crowd.

He didn't want to become a target; Dumbledore and Harry Potter were there to protect him anyway.

The lecture proceeded rather uneventfully. Professor Quirrell's voice trembled as he explained the Red Hat's habits and weaknesses, occasionally interrupted by his own sudden cough.

However, his gaze frequently bypassed the other students and landed on Liria.

"Miss Lilya," Professor Quirrell suddenly called out, a hint of urgency in his voice, "I've heard you come from the far north? The natural magic there... is quite unique?"

Liria stood up, her long golden hair gleaming softly in the dim light. She nodded and answered frankly, "Yes, Professor. The magic of the North is inextricably linked to the land, the forests, and the seasons."

"Soil, land?" Professor Quirrell pressed, leaning forward slightly. "It's truly amazing. On that... that land, have any ancient magic or relics ever existed, like ancient stone tablets or something? I mean, perhaps there are unique, lost runes or... sources of power?"

The classroom fell silent. Julien's heart sank. The stone tablet? Could it be related to the contents of the package Liria had brought? He glanced at Liria furtively, his eyes filled with warning, but Liria didn't notice.

Liria seemed oblivious to the danger of the question. After a moment's thought, she replied, "There are indeed many ancient ruins in the North, some with inscriptions on stone tablets written by our ancestors. But most of those were used for rituals or to record history; they don't possess any special power."

Her tone was sincere and frank; she was clearly not lying.

"I see..." Professor Quirrell muttered in disappointment, but quickly rallied his spirits. "Very interesting. Your knowledge is very... valuable. If you have any questions about magic in the future, feel free to come and discuss them with me. I am very, very interested in these things."

The bell rang, and the students packed up their books with a sigh of relief. Professor Quirrell hurriedly left the classroom, as if a ghost were chasing him.

"He looks really weird," a Hufflepuff girl whispered. "He stutters, fine, but why does he keep staring at Lyria?"

Julien walked up to Liria and whispered, "Don't believe him."

Liria turned her head, a hint of confusion in her icy blue eyes: "What did you say?"

Julien hesitated for a moment, but still said, "Quillot is a bit... a bit strange, it's best to avoid contact with him."

"How can you question the professor? What's wrong with him being interested in nature magic? Professor McGonagall is the same way."

“There are many kinds of interests,” Julien said seriously. “I feel his ‘interest’ is more like he’s searching for something. Did you bring something with you to Hogwarts?”

"How did you know?!" Liria took a step back in surprise. "I already gave it to Deng... no, what nonsense are you talking about? I didn't bring anything." As she spoke, Liria's eyes became wary as she looked at Julien.