The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

Julien's gaze seemed focused, as if he were genuinely interested in Dali's superficial insights. In reality, however, he was subtly scanning every corner of the living room and every closed door.

Harry Potter. The name lingered in his mind. The legendary boy—the boy who survived—should be here, at number 4 Privet Drive.

"By the way, did you watch the boxing championship last week? Tyson's left hook was textbook perfect," Julien said, trying to make conversation.

Dudley's eyes lit up even more: "You really know about boxing?! I'm very optimistic about you too..."

(Julien's inner monologue: I know nothing about boxing, all I know is that you'll be so scared of Dementors next year you'll wet your pants.)

The only sounds in the living room were Dudley's boastful voice and the Dursleys' deliberately maintained, tedious conversation about stock market trends and suburban property values. There wasn't a trace of the boy's presence.

until--

During tea time, Clara Rossi lightly tapped her delicate porcelain cup against the rim of her saucer, producing a crisp sound. She turned to Penny Dursley, who was distributing second cream scones, and casually mentioned a long-lost acquaintance in a gentle, slightly curious tone:

"Dear Penny, I remember you have a younger sister... Lily, right? We used to play together when we were little."

The air froze upon hearing Lily's name.

Uncle Vernon coughed loudly, as if he had choked on his tea, and his face turned a deep purplish-red.

Aunt Penny's hand, which was handing over a scone, froze in mid-air. Her slender neck was taut, and her lips were pressed into a pale, emotionless line. The gold necklace around her neck swayed slightly.

Dali stopped describing the power of the boxing champion's punches and looked at his parents, who were instantly petrified, in bewilderment.

After a few awkward seconds of silence, Aunt Penny abruptly withdrew her hand, nearly causing the scone to fall to the ground. She then spoke in a nonchalant tone:

"Lily? Oh... her." She paused. "It happened many years ago. In a car accident. With her husband. They died."

Clara covered her mouth, letting out a soft, apologetic gasp: "Oh my God... I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked. This is so sad. Well... I heard she has a child too."

Aunt Penny's face paled further, her sharp gaze sweeping over Clara's concerned face, as if trying to determine whether there was an unfamiliar exploration of that "abnormal world" behind that concern.

Finally, she took a deep breath, using all her strength to maintain a composed indifference, and squeezed out through clenched teeth:

"Yes. There's a boy. His name is Harry. Harry Potter." She was almost reluctant to utter the surname. "Now...we're raising him."

She didn't say "living with us," but rather "being raised by us," as if stating a legal obligation she couldn't refuse.

Uncle Vernon snorted loudly, breaking the silence and trying to steer the conversation back to a "normal" topic: "Let's not talk about these unpleasant things! Dudley, you haven't shown Julien your new Nintendo console yet!"

But Julien's eyes brightened slightly. Maintaining a composed expression of sorrow, he said softly, "This Potter... cousin... is he here too? Perhaps Dudley could introduce us? Perhaps among people of the same age..."

Dali's face immediately fell, and he muttered, "Him? He always hides in the stairwell, he can't be seen by anyone."

Aunt Penny looked as if she had been forced to swallow a fly. Reluctantly, she turned towards the stairwell and called out in her shrill, emotionless voice:

"Harry! Come out! We have a guest to see you!"

A moment later, a small, thin figure cautiously appeared at the top of the stairs. Julien knew that the figure should be about the same age as himself and Dudley, but was much thinner than others his age.

He was wearing an old T-shirt and jeans that were obviously too big and outdated. His thin face was mostly covered by a pair of worn-out glasses wrapped with many layers of tape, but on his forehead, under a tuft of black hair that always stuck up, a strange, lightning-shaped scar was faintly visible.

What was most striking were the boy's eyes. They were bright, almost translucent green eyes, like jade after the rain, carrying a hint of timidity, yet concealing a subtle stubbornness, very similar to Julien Sorel's eyes.

It's Harry Potter.

Julien's breathing paused almost imperceptibly.

The boy before me didn't yet resemble the brave and resolute savior he would later become at Hogwarts. At this moment, he was more like a frightened little animal, exuding a cautious and distant aura, clearly not at ease in this home.

Harry clearly noticed Julien as well. He stopped in his tracks, a hint of surprise and curiosity in his green eyes, his gaze landing on Julien with a touch of probing. He seemed to rarely have guests at home, especially children his own age.

"Oh, this is Dudley's cousin, Harry," Petunia introduced casually, her tone clearly impatient, as if mentioning Harry was some kind of troublesome matter. "Harry, come over and say hello. This is Aunt Clara, and her son Julien."

Harry pursed his lips, walked over cautiously, stopped, lowered his head slightly, and said in a soft voice, "Hello, Aunt Clara, hello Julien..." His fingers unconsciously fiddled with the hem of his clothes, making him appear very reserved.

Julien suppressed his emotions and gave Harry a gentle and sincere smile. He spoke softly, deliberately lowering his stance to avoid making Harry feel pressured: "Hello, Harry. My name is Julien, it's nice to meet you."

His smile was clean and friendly, without the arrogance of the Vernons or the meanness of Dudley.

Harry paused for a moment, looked up, a hint of surprise flashing in his green eyes, then quickly looked down again, the corners of his mouth curving upwards very slightly, as if touched by this sudden friendliness.

"We bought some pastries for the children as snacks," Clara said, handing over the box of pastries. Clara seemed to have sensed Harry's predicament, but unaware of the situation, she didn't say anything more.

He just smiled and looked at Penny, "Julien, Dudley, and Harry are about the same age, so they can play together."

Penny took the box, gave a perfunctory "thank you," but glanced at Harry and said coldly, "Yes. Let the children do as they please."

Julien paid no attention to Penny's attitude; his gaze remained fixed on Harry.

He could sense a faint yet pure magical energy emanating from Harry—an innate magical talent that, even when suppressed in the Muggle world, could not be completely concealed.

Harry seemed to feel inferior because of Penny's tone, and he lowered his head even further.

Julien gently touched his arm, his voice lowered, carrying a hint of secret gentleness: "It's alright, shall we go for a walk in the yard? The sunlight here is lovely."

Harry looked up abruptly, his green eyes wide with surprise, as if he couldn't believe someone would invite him. He hesitated for a few seconds, looking into Julien's sincere eyes, and finally nodded slightly, his voice barely audible: "Okay."

"Dali, want to take a walk together?" Julien turned to look at Dudley.

"No, my 'Tank Battle' game is still paused." He had no interest in playing with Harry, that weirdo. Except, of course, when practicing boxing.