The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

Julien still felt exhausted; this was the first time he had felt so tired since his magic had awakened.

He felt a burning and stinging sensation on the inside of his right wrist. He looked down but saw nothing unusual. Could it be a lingering effect of the viral infection? He should probably rest more.

So he closed his eyes, but his consciousness slowly sank into the Magic Resonance Library involuntarily.

Murphy was perched on top of a bookshelf, his tail swishing restlessly.

Upon seeing Julien appear, it raised its head, its heterochromatic amber and silver-gray eyes flashing with an unusual seriousness. It then glanced at the deepest part of the library but said nothing.

Julien followed its gaze.

Deep within the library, the bronze door, which had always been tightly shut, was now emitting a very faint hum. The chains on the door trembled slightly, as if something was striking from the other side.

A faint blue light shone through the crack in the door, but it seemed to be suppressed by some force, unable to be truly opened.

"That door..." Julien began, "You keep saying it's not time to open it yet, what's inside?"

"A book, a secret, is the source of the Black bloodline, the origin of the entire magical world."

"Going to such an extreme? Will I even be able to keep this up for the rest of my life?"

Murphy shook his head slightly, seemingly sighing.

"By the way, you should know that a classmate just gave me a map. The circled points on it seem to include more than just magic nodes."

"You think only magic nodes are magical places?" Murphy humanized by showing a little white in his eyes.

"Are there any books related to this topic that I can look at?"

"Unfortunately, no." Murphy stared into his eyes. "But..."

"But what?"

"You can go and see for yourself."

"Go by yourself? How will you get there?"

Where do you want to go?

Could this old cat have such abilities? Julien carefully recalled the map Rozier had given him. "Hmm, I want to go to the French Riviera in the south."

"It's said to be a beautiful place, and it's close to home." Julien seemed to already see the image of the beautiful women on the beach.

"Okay, then let's go to Beihai." Murphy glanced at Julien's right wrist, seemingly casually.

"Perfect. No, where are you referring to?... "

---

The North Sea lies east of Great Britain and west of the Scandinavian Peninsula.

Even though he knew it was summer, Julien still felt the place was bitterly cold.

He looked around and saw a vast ocean in the middle of the sea. The seawater was not the azure blue he had imagined, but pitch black.

The sky was overcast, and the cold wind was like a knife.

Not far to the north, a gloomy, black island stands, and there seems to be a castle on it.

Regardless, let's go take a look first. Julien himself didn't even notice; he walked over.

Once on the island, you'll find that the castle is towering, a gloomy triangular fortress built entirely of black megaliths.

It's definitely not a resort anymore; it looks more like a prison.

What? A prison?

Thinking of this, Julien looked up. Gray clouds hung low over the fortress's spire.

Between the clouds and the fortress, he could see some dark, blurry shadows moving silently. They were not petrels, nor sea ducks or penguins.

They are numerous, like pieces of torn night sky, or rags or cloaks fluttering in the wind, chaotic yet subtly forming an encirclement that shrouds the entire island in their shadow.

That's right, Dementors! Azkaban!

Suddenly, two Dementors drifted past Julien. As they passed each other in the air, the edges of their tattered cloaks merged like smoke, then separated silently, continuing their desperate patrol.

Although the Dementors didn't notice Julien at all, the scene was enough to make Julien lose the desire (courage) to explore further.

The sharp whistling of the sea wind cut through every crevice of the fortress. But if Julien listened carefully, he noticed that some of the sounds in the gaps between the wind's roar had an unusual quality.

It was an almost continuous, low hum. It wasn't the voice of any one person, but rather the remnants of countless desperate groans, cries, and mutterings echoing in the enclosed space, seeping through the stone walls several meters thick.

Against the backdrop of low murmurs, an occasional clear, piercing roar would rise, like a rusty knife slicing through the cold air of Beihai.

Julien wanted to turn and run, but his legs felt numb, or rather, his whole body felt numb, except for a burning pain on the inside of his right wrist.

However, at this moment, Julien felt that the burning pain gave him a sense of survival and a sliver of warmth.

Julien looked down and saw a coin-sized totem on the inside of his right wrist: a hawk-headed dog with outstretched wings, its feet resting on stars, completely different from the Black family crest.

Julien looked up again at the black prison, its dark gates wide open. Though he dared not go forward, he seemed to be able to see the deepest part of the prison beyond.

The cells inside Azkaban were also made of stone, with openwork iron bars on the doors. Occasionally, a withered arm would suddenly stretch out and wave meaninglessly.

Julien could even see that the prisoners in the cell were not chained. Perhaps because there was no need for it.

Most of the cells were empty shells of human figures huddled in the corners, occasionally emitting dreamlike whimpers, while the walls were covered with meaningless scratches made by the fingernails of the mentally disturbed.

However, in a cell deep inside the prison, a large black dog suddenly transforms into a tall, thin man, catching Julien's attention.

Although he was also huddled in a corner, and although his black hair was disheveled, his eyes were unusually clear as he looked at Julien.

The Dementors wandered the corridor, but their draining abilities seemed to have little effect on him.

"The bloodline of the Black family..." The man's lips did not move, but his voice resounded directly in Yulian's mind.

"Listen, child. I don't know who you are, but I can sense it—you are a descendant of Blake, the true 'Guardian' bloodline."

“I am Julien,” he replied, “Shillem Julien Black. Alfard’s grandson.”

"Alfard..." The man's voice carried a bittersweet nostalgia. "I am Sirius Black, and Alfard is my uncle. I'm the one who dragged him down. I never imagined that his descendants would be the true hope of the family."

The scene before him became clearer. Julien saw Sirius raise his wrist, where there was also a mark: a hawk-headed hound with outstretched wings, its feet treading on stars.

"This is the mark of the 'Guardian,' which was recorded in Black's old house," Sirius said. "I've had it since I was a child, but I never knew its true meaning."

"At first, I thought guardians were about protecting the magical world and defeating dark lords like Voldemort. Until I came here..."

Suddenly, his voice became urgent: "I don't know why you've come, but I want to tell you that it's not that simple. Azkaban is not just a prison, child."

"Despair constantly breeds here; it's also known as the 'Well of Despair.' The negative emotions here nourish something, something far older than any dark wizard you know. It comes from another world. Dementors are born from this."

"Dumbledore knows the whole truth, but he never tells anyone. So you can't completely trust him either."

"What should I do then?"

"Don't worry, child, there's still time." Sirius seemed to smile. "I understand your name a little better now. You have the right to choose, the right to carve out your own life, and even this world."

Sirius's voice grew fainter and fainter, and Azkaban Castle seemed to recede further and further into the distance in Yulian's eyes. Just when he thought it was all an illusion, a shrill female voice suddenly echoed from within the disappearing castle:

"Julien! I heard you all, Schillerm Julien Black! Let me out!"

Julien was startled and suddenly opened his eyes.

The train was rushing across a stone bridge, with rolling hills visible outside the window. Warm sunlight streamed in through the window.

Edgar and Kayson's argument came from across the room, as if nothing had happened.

"Are you alright, Julien? Why do you look so pale?" her two roommates asked with concern.

Julien shook his head and smiled. "It's nothing, just a nightmare."

He glanced instinctively at his right wrist, but saw nothing. He then shrank back into the sunlight, closed his eyes again, and began humming the "500 Miles" song.

(Note:

1. It is said that Sirius Black's parents were his father, Orion Black, and his mother, Walburga Black. They were both Black, cousins, and the relationship between Julien and Sirius Black can be interpreted from both sides to ensure the purity of the Black bloodline.

2. The spells in this book are carefully crafted and are available for free use.