The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

On a Christmas morning, the Black Vine Winery was covered in snow, with ice crystals hanging from the vines, resembling a curtain studded with diamonds.

After two days of festive celebrations, the place finally returned to its tranquility.

After breakfast that day, Alphad changed into a dark brown leather coat, concealed his wand at his waist, and set off with Julien on the road to Fonsari.

The carriage traveled along the snow-covered country road, its wheels crunching over the snow, while distant villages appeared and disappeared in the mist.

Yes, a carriage. Wrapped in a thick, dark green wool cloak, Julien, sitting beside his grandfather Alphad, was overthinking things. There were no Thestrals here, much less the noble divine horses.

"Why don't we drive there?" Julien asked curiously.

"Are you crazy, driving to a wizarding town? Fonzari is a true secret place, known only to old-school wizards. When I was young, I often came here to buy your grandmother's favorite lavender spice. To this day, she doesn't know that spice is only found in the wizarding world; she thinks only I can buy her favorite, haha."

Are there many fun things to do there?

"Fonsari isn't as flashy as Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, but it hides a lot of good things." Alphad stroked his fine beard as he drove the carriage. "The magical furniture makers and apothecaries there are all old-fashioned, and there's the best magical dessert shop in all of France."

After parking the carriage in the designated area, the grandfather and grandson slowly entered Fonsari.

The town is quite large, with neat stone houses on both sides of the cobblestone streets, their roofs covered with red tiles.

Every household's windowsills are adorned with magical plants that bloom even in winter. During the festival, garlands of mistletoe and ivy, woven with magic, hang above doorways.

The commercial area is mainly concentrated in the center of the town. In front of a small shop by the roadside, the shopkeeper is silently directing a broom to sweep the snow in front of the door, while an owl wearing a mini Santa hat is perched on a mailbox, curiously observing the endless stream of passersby.

The liveliness here is quite different from the celebration at Blackvine Winery a couple of days ago; it's less luxurious and more down-to-earth.

Just as the grandmother and grandson stopped in front of a small shop selling handmade magic wand conditioning oil, a smooth, melodious female voice came from behind them.

"Monsieur Black!"

The grandfather and grandson turned around and saw a middle-aged woman with fair skin, a slender but not thin figure, wearing a dark purple velvet robe looking at them.

The woman was about 60 years old, but her back was as straight as the columns of Versailles. Her grey-blue eyes were as clear as the sea in Brittany, and an antique silver openwork brooch adorned her collar.

"Hi, Clotilde!"

Upon seeing the woman, Alphad immediately broke into his signature smile. "It's so nice to see you!"

The lady smiled and raised her hand to tidy her hair. A section of her sleeve slipped down, revealing a small part of her wrist, on which she wore a thin, old silver bracelet that made a crisp sound with the movement.

Julien's first notice was of two girls, one older and one younger, standing next to the lady.

The older one was none other than Fleur de la Cour, whom he had met that day; she was holding the hand of a little girl who looked about four or five years old.

Today, Furong was wearing a well-tailored white cashmere coat, her long silver hair shimmering in the sunlight, and her deep silver eyes were filled with surprise.

The little girl beside her had the same delicate features as her, but her eyes were more innocent and carefree. She was holding her sister's hand tightly and looking at Julien with curiosity.

"Miss Delacour, hello." Julien smiled and nodded to them, his tone gentle. "I didn't expect to meet you here. This must be your sister?"

"My name is Gabrielle, and who are you?" the little girl answered crisply. She then broke free from her sister's hand, ran to Julien, and looked up at him without any shyness.

Julien paused, then crouched down, looked directly into Gabriel's clear eyes, and smiled gently, "Hello Gabriel, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Julien."

"Hello, Julien. I'm so happy too!" Gabriel clapped his hands happily, then grabbed Julien's sleeve as if he had found a new toy. "Is this your first time here? I can show you around."

Furong smiled helplessly and stepped forward: "Hello, Julien. My sister is rather mischievous, please don't mind."

Over there, the old woman and Alphad were exchanging pleasantries. After introductions, Julien learned that the old woman was the maternal grandmother of the Fleur sisters, who lived in Fonzali.

After chatting for a while, Julien's grandfather, Alphard, and Fleur's maternal grandmother decided that the two of them would go to visit some old friends, while the Fleur sisters would show Julien around.

And so, the three children traveled together. Gabriel was like a cheerful little bird, sometimes pulling Julien to look at the singing porcelain dolls in the shop window, and sometimes pointing at the colorful paper cranes circling in the sky, asking all sorts of questions.

Furong stood by with a smile, occasionally answering her sister's whimsical questions, but her gaze often fell on Julien, perhaps because Julien's eyes were always incredibly clear when he looked at the sisters.

They walked through an arcade adorned with colorful lights, and suddenly a bright and open space appeared before them: an ancient stone building stood at the end of the square.

It has towering spires and stained-glass windows, but most of the windows are broken and the walls are covered with withered vines, making it look particularly desolate.

"That's... a church?" Julien asked, somewhat surprised. In his knowledge, wizarding communities rarely had such purely Muggle religious buildings.

"Yes," Fleur nodded, her voice lowering slightly, "My grandmother told me that hundreds of years ago, Fonsari wasn't all wizards. Muggles and wizards used to live together there. Later, for some reason, the Muggles gradually moved away, and the church was abandoned. Now everyone says it's haunted, and no child dares to go near it."

Just as Julien was about to ask something else, he caught a glimpse of a figure flashing past in the narrow alleyway beside the church. The person was wearing a large gray cloak with the brim pulled low.

But just as he raised his hand to adjust his cloak, Julien clearly saw a tattoo on the inside of his forearm—a crescent moon entwined with thorns.

Moon Shadow Council!

Julien's heart skipped a beat. How could the symbol of this mysterious organization appear here? And in such a seemingly peaceful wizarding town?

Hibiscus seemed to have noticed this as well, exchanging a serious glance with Julien. Neither of them knew what to do.

Julien instinctively wanted to chase after them, but Gabriel grabbed his sleeve. "Brother, there are sugar apples for sale over there!" The little girl's voice pulled him back to reality.

Oh right, Gabriel's here too, so we can't take any risks.

Just then, a familiar voice, tinged with coldness, came from behind them.

"What a coincidence, Mr. Blake. I thought you'd be spending the holidays at a luxurious winery. What, are you also interested in this kind of country market?"

Julien turned around and saw Elizabeth Rozier standing a few steps away.

She wasn't wearing her signature dark green dress today, but rather a simple black riding outfit, which made her skin look even whiter.

Her gaze swept over Julien, Fleur, and Gabrielle, who was clinging tightly to Julien's arm, before finally settling on Julien's face, her eyes filled with an indescribable complex emotion.

"Ah, it's Elizabeth. It's so nice to see you." Julien straightened up and replied politely. "It's always better to get out and about during the holidays than to stay cooped up at home. Did you come alone?"

"I have my own things to do," Rozier replied casually, raising his chin slightly with his usual arrogance. "However, it seems you had a rather... fulfilling vacation."