The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

Julien smiled and didn't argue further. He knew that in this era when Voldemort's shadow had not completely disappeared, people's prejudice against "Slytherin" was as solid as an impenetrable wall.

"Anyway," he raised his pumpkin juice and gestured to Harry, "congratulations, Harry. The first Seeker in Hogwarts' history in a hundred years. That's awesome."

"Yes, Harry, congratulations." Ron was genuinely happy for his friend.

"That's right." Kayson also raised his glass. "It's all Malfoy's fault. I should have been the first first-year Seeker."

"Hahaha."

Harry finally smiled, raising his glass: "Thank you! You all have to come to my first match!"

"Absolutely!" Kayson immediately chimed in. "I want to sit in the front row, and I'll cheer you on as long as it's not against Ravenclaw!"

Everyone burst into laughter again. The small disagreement from before was quickly overshadowed by the aroma of the food and the boys' boisterous chatter.

Just after parting ways with the Ravenclaws, Hermione took Harry and Ron to the prize room to see the Hogwarts Quidditch Trophy that Harry's father, James, had won as the Seeker. It was the first time Harry had learned that his father had also been an excellent Seeker.

On their way back to the dormitory, the three of them were chatting and laughing as they walked up a flight of stairs when the stairs suddenly started moving. Startled, they quickly crouched down and held tightly to the railing.

"Don't be afraid!" Hermione was the first to calm down. "Percy once said that the stairs at Hogwarts move by themselves. We can go around them and get back in a bit."

The staircase shifted nearly 180 degrees, leading them to an unfamiliar corridor—the east corridor on the fourth floor, which Dumbledore had mentioned was off-limits after the start of the school year.

The adventure of the three little ones begins...

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The library was much quieter than the auditorium, with only the sound of turning pages and the occasional rustle of a quill pen across parchment. Julien had just said goodbye to Edgar and his companion to go to the library to do his homework. Edgar and his companion, on the other hand, wanted to take a walk by the Black Lake.

It was nearly nine o'clock in the evening. Julien sat at a quiet oak table in the corner, with a not-so-thick ancient book open in front of him—"A Study of the Magical Leylines of Europa." His fingertips traced the faded text line by line, his brow furrowed.

It's more of a manuscript than a book, a handwritten book or notebook by a wizard from an unknown era. Many of the characters differ greatly from modern writing, and the handwriting is too blurry to be easily deciphered.

"...The three nodes were established in accordance with the celestial phenomena, with stone as the foundation and blood as the catalyst...Sleeping dragon, do not disturb, this is not a false statement."

The text was obscure and difficult to understand, but the solemnity and sense of crisis conveyed between the lines sent chills down his spine. Wasn't "Sleeping Dragon, Do Not Disturb" Hogwarts' motto? Could it have some other special meaning?

Julien only closed his book and carefully put his previously completed homework into the inner pocket of his robe after Madame Pince, the caretaker, glared at him three times with an almost threatening look. When he got up to leave, the sky outside the window was already filled with stars.

On his way back to Ravenclaw Tower, he was preoccupied. As he passed a spiral staircase connecting the third and fifth floors, that familiar "click" sound rang out again. The stone steps trembled slightly beneath his feet before beginning to rotate.

Julien was not alarmed—having escaped the castle many times before, he was used to its capricious nature. However, this time, the staircase did not lead him to the familiar Eagle's Nest entrance, but instead stopped at a north-facing corridor on the fourth floor that he had never noticed before.

This place was even quieter than the west wing, which we usually frequented. The wall lamps were dim, and cobwebs piled up in the corners. The air was filled with an old, musty smell, a mixture of wax and magical dust. At the end of the corridor, a faint light shone from a half-open door.

Julien hesitated for a moment, then went over. Pushing open the door, he found himself in an empty classroom of moderate size. In the center of the room stood a solitary, tall mirror. The frame was ornate gold, and at the top was engraved a line of cursive lettering:

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi

"Oh, so it's the Mirror of Eris..." Julien murmured softly.

He remembered Dumbledore telling Harry that the mirror could reflect a person's deepest desires.

The old headmaster probably placed it here so that Harry, under the immense pressure of fighting Voldemort, could still see the figures of his parents and find some solace. Of course, it was also a rehearsal for later retrieving the Philosopher's Stone from it.

Since this was part of Old Dumbledore's Harry Potter act, he should have just turned and left. No matter how magical the mirror was, to him it was nothing more than a magical object with a story.

But as soon as he turned halfway around, his feet seemed to be nailed to the spot.

"What is my deepest desire...?" He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Perhaps to return to my past life and lie on my own balcony basking in the sun? Or... to sit with my parents, grandparents, and the rest of the family around the fireplace at Blackvine Winery in this life?"

Curiosity ultimately prevailed. As people often say, "Since I'm already here," he thought, and slowly walked to the mirror and looked up.

There was no sunlight, no fireplace, and no warm smiles from parents in the mirror.

There was only a chaotic darkness, like the beginning of the universe. In the depths of the darkness, a long, narrow black stone slab, its surface seemingly covered with star-like patterns, floated.

It was silent and ancient, yet it seemed to contain a power powerful enough to tear through time and space. The outline of the stone slab was indistinct, its shape somewhat resembling the long cloth bundle that Liria had brought to school, yet it exuded a call that resonated in his blood and came from the depths of his soul.

Immediately afterwards, a deep, hoarse voice, as if coming from the depths of the earth, resounded directly in his mind:

"Is it you? My guardian, the last of Blake's blood... Have you come to remove my shackles?"

Julien was jolted, as if struck by lightning. He took a step back, his heart pounding so hard he felt like he was about to break his ribs. He looked around, but there was no one there, and Old Deng hadn't suddenly appeared either.

But that voice was not a hallucination! The voice carried a clear will, the weariness and anticipation of a thousand years of waiting, and precisely pierced the core of his consciousness.

"Stone slab..." he murmured, his fingers unconsciously touching his chest, where the fabric felt slightly warm.

"Aren't you the Mirror of Eris?" Julien asked in a trembling voice.

"No, the Mirror of Eris is the last line of defense left by the Four Great Judges, a beacon that only activates for a specific bloodline!" The hoarse, ancient voice rang out again. "The Mirror of Eris is here not to reflect 'desire,' but to identify the 'key,' the key of the guardian!"

The image of the stone slab in the mirror began to slowly rotate, and the star-like patterns lit up one by one, outlining a star map he had never seen before.

Of course, if he does well in his astronomy classes later, he will eventually discover that it is the winter solstice, the moment when the three stars of Orion's Belt are hanging above the Hogwarts Tower of Astronomy.

"Shackles?...Bloodline?...Key?" Julien repeated the words in a low voice. Could he be some kind of guardian? Was he connected to the Black bloodline?

He looked up at the mirror again. The stone slab in the mirror seemed to tremble slightly, and the whispering gradually faded away, eventually returning to silence. The image also began to dissipate, returning to an ordinary mirror reflecting even his own pale face.

He stood there, motionless for a long time. The night wind blew through the empty corridor, making a sobbing sound.

According to his original plan, although he was familiar with the plot, he only wanted to be a bystander who could peacefully spend his student years, learn magic well, and have a certain ability to protect himself. He would leave everything else to Harry and the others.

But now, it seems that he, Schillerm Julien Black, also has his own storyline.

He took one last look in the mirror, then turned and left. The door closed softly behind him.