The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

When Julien and his group arrived, the scene was already packed with people.

Professor McGonagall was wearing a nap robe, and the tip of her wand shone with a blinding white light;

Snape examined Penelope's stiff body with a dark expression;

Filch stood in the corner, making a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a curse.

“Another one,” Filch said, pointing tremblingly to the ground, “Catch him on the spot, it’s him, Potter!”

Julien looked up at the bewildered Harry and his two companions, thinking to himself, "How come these unlucky kids are here again?"

Suddenly he noticed Ginny Weasley at the edge of the crowd.

The red-haired girl stood in the shadows, clutching the familiar little handbag tightly in her hand.

This time, the look she gave Harry was no longer one of shy adoration, but rather a strange, focused intensity.

Her lips twitched slightly, and her eyes unconsciously glanced at her pocket. Following her gaze, Julien saw a corner of a black cover peeking out from the pocket of her robe.

Julien froze, thinking, "Holy crap, no way. Wasn't my laptop on my desk?"

He immediately turned around and was about to go back to his dormitory to verify it.

"Mr. Black," Snape's sharp voice crept up his spine, "I've noticed you're even paler than Miss Crevatt, who's been petrified. Do you have anything to explain?"

"I'm just a coward, Professor," Julien replied casually, suppressing his anxiety.

However, this statement did not elicit ridicule from everyone; on the contrary, it was widely agreed upon, except by Rozier.

Many of the young wizards present looked pale and unwell, especially Justin and a few others from Muggle families.

"Professor! Why not investigate Harry Potter and his friends? They're highly suspicious," Justin said, and many of his classmates echoed his sentiments.

"Exactly, exactly. Once might be a coincidence, but every time something happens, Harry Potter is nearby," Ravenclaw's Mike Turner added. "Potter, don't look at me like that, I'm half-blood."

Lisa Dupin, standing beside Mike Turner, quietly tugged at his sleeve and whispered, "Fool, why are you bringing up half-bloods? The heir to Slytherin might be so ruthless as to kill even half-bloods."

Mike Turner was so frightened that his face turned even paler, and he involuntarily took a step back.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "The teachers will investigate this matter. Now, everyone return to your dormitories. No student is allowed to go out alone. Miss Krivat will be taken to the university hospital until the mandrake matures..."

"Mr. Potter, you guys stay behind for a moment."

When Yu Lian rushed back to his dormitory, sure enough, the notebook had disappeared.

Voldemort went around in circles and returned to his true host, perhaps because first-year student Ginny was easier to control.

Penelope Crivate was merely a victim who was exploited.

-----------------

In December at Hogwarts, the castle is covered with a thin layer of frost and snow, and the Forbidden Forest outside the window is dressed in silver, like a still watercolor painting.

However, the atmosphere inside the castle was far from tranquil. The shadow of the opened secret room weighed heavily on the hearts of every student, like a boulder.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, their shadows stretching long and short from the fireplace.

Two weeks have passed since the Polyjuice Potion adventure—Hermione has successfully concocted Polyjuice Potion—and they have finally confirmed that Malfoy is not the heir to Slytherin.

Although the platinum-haired boy was arrogant and mean, he had nothing to do with the locked-room mystery.

"If it's not Malfoy," Ron said, irritably grabbing his red hair, "then who else could it be?"

Harry stared silently at the flames in the fireplace, his green eyes reflecting the flickering firelight.

He remembered the Parseltongue he had uttered that day at the Duel Club; he remembered Justin Finley's terrified eyes.

Finally, he remembered that during the Sorting Ceremony, the Sorting Hat had indeed intended to sort him into Slytherin. This secret was like a thorn in his heart, preventing him from mentioning it to anyone, not even Ron or Hermione.

"We need to change our approach," Hermione said, her brow furrowed as she held a thick book, "Hogwarts: A History of the School."

"Who opened the secret room fifty years ago? The student who died at that time was Myrtle, I've already asked her. But she said she didn't know, she only saw two yellow lanterns."

"Wasn't it said that he was killed by the monster in the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry whispered. "Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick both said so."

"Yes, but what kind of monster?" Hermione asked. "The professors don't know either, and it's not clearly stated in the books, but there must be some clues... We overlooked it."

---

Three days later, at dusk, Hagrid's hut was filled with the sweet aroma of rock cakes and something even richer—Hagrid's special tea, "Tooth's Placebo."

Harry, Harry, and his friends sat at the huge wooden table, watching the gamekeeper furtively fiddling with an empty chicken coop.

"They're all dead," Hagrid's voice was filled with unbelievable grief. "Twelve chickens, their necks snapped overnight. Not foxes, not weasels..."

His large, thick fingers trembled as he pointed out the window. "Things from the Forbidden Forest won't come into my yard; they know the rules here."

Hermione's ears perked up. "Hagrid, you said 'his neck was broken'?"

“Yes,” Hagrid sighed, “it’s like…like a mischievous little wizard did it. But who would do that? There are too many footprints at the scene, but no other animal hair.”

Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance. Ron, engrossed in his third piece of rock cake, was completely oblivious to the change in atmosphere.

Hermione quickened her pace noticeably as they left Hagrid's hut. Harry had to jog to keep up.

"Hermione, what did you find?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione's voice trembled slightly with excitement. "I think I've grasped the key point, but I can't quite remember it. I'll go to the library to check it out in the next couple of days."

"You two come back and ask Hagrid again when you have time. I've calculated that he should have been at school 50 years ago. I have a feeling he was stammering and didn't tell us something."

"You suspect Hagrid? Impossible..." Harry's face turned pale.

"I'm not doubting Hagrid, I just feel he might know something."

---

The towering bookshelves in the Hogwarts Library are like an ancient forest, seemingly able to shut out all the noise of the outside world.

Hermione weaved among the bookshelves, carrying a stack of materials she had found on the edge of the forbidden section—about the predatory habits of magical creatures, records of ancient curses, and various legends about Slytherin himself.

She stopped in front of a bookshelf dedicated to "Dangerous Magical Creatures," her fingertips tracing the thick volumes. *The Hound of the Baskervilles and the Magical Variant*, *When Pets Become Killers*, *The Creature You Don't Want to See—The Basilisk*…

"Spiders, that's right," she murmured to herself, "what are spiders afraid of...?"

"Are you looking for the spider's weakness?" a voice suddenly rang in her ear.