Chapter 42: Snape's Gaze
Walking through the quiet corridors.
On Sunday morning, most students were still sleeping in, with only a few scattered Ravenclaw students clutching thick books as they hurried toward the Library.
When he reached the Owlery, the smell wasn't pleasant, a mix of bird droppings and hay.
Among the noisy owls, Julian recognized the Rosier Family's Eagle Owl, "Metis," at a glance.
It had a pair of sharp eyes and was standing proudly on the highest beam, looking down on the ordinary messenger birds around it.
"Metis, come here."
Julian extended his arm. The Eagle Owl flapped its wide wings and landed steadily on his bracer.
"Deliver this letter to Father personally." Julian stroked its cold, hard feathers, his voice low. "Avoid those long-nosed school monitors, understand?"
Metis gave a low hoot and pecked Julian's finger gently before suddenly flapping its wings and taking flight, disappearing into the clouds like a bolt of grey lightning.
Julian stood by the window, watching the direction where Metis had disappeared.
Just then, he felt the diadem hidden in his robes suddenly grow slightly warm, and an extremely faint, whisper-like vibration echoed in his mind.
"...Blood... need... pure... will..."
It was the diadem's longing; the bottle of contaminated Unicorn blood collected last night was clearly just a catalyst, tempting Julian toward deeper darkness.
Julian gave a cold snort and used Occlumency to forcibly sever the connection.
He didn't intend to be led by the nose by a Horcrux, even if it was a Ravenclaw relic.
On his way downstairs, he encountered Hermione at the entrance of the Great Hall.
She looked in excellent spirits, clutching the book in which Julian had written the formulas, her eyes shining with a near-fanatical light.
"Julian!" Hermione rushed over, nearly colliding with a passing Hufflepuff senior.
"I found it! Nicolas Flamel... he did indeed have treatises on the 'pinnacle of Alchemy' in the 14th century, and he's a close friend of Professor Dumbledore! However, the records of his 666th birthday have been erased, like... some kind of magical seal."
She was panting, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
"You were right; what's in the books is just the tip of the iceberg. I tried using the logic you gave me to analyze the Transfiguration spells, and... and just now in the common room, I turned my pillow into a living, tongue-flicking chameleon!"
Julian stopped and looked at the little Witch, who was now completely trapped in his academic snare, and gave an appreciative smile.
"Well done, Hermione." He reached out and gently patted her shoulder; this intimate gesture made Hermione stiffen for a moment before her eyes filled with a look of being overwhelmed by the favor.
"A chameleon is just the beginning. Only when you can give it the illusion of a soul will you have truly stepped across the threshold of magic." Julian's voice was very low, carrying the authority of a mentor.
"Keep looking into Flamel. If you can't find it in the Library, check 'Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century'; I recall some interesting profiles on page 394."
"I will!" Hermione nodded vigorously, as if she had received a royal decree. "I'm going right now!"
Watching Hermione's hurried departure, the curve of Julian's mouth deepened. Occasionally arranging for others to do things was the best way to subtly establish one's own status.
Harry and Ron were just coming out of the Great Hall, and their expressions were quite a sight as they watched Hermione's respectful attitude toward Julian.
"What's wrong with Hermione?" Ron muttered, still clutching half a sausage. "Harry, did you see that? The way she looked at Rosier just now was like she was looking at Headmaster Dumbledore!"
Harry didn't speak; he just stared at Julian, his green eyes filled with complex emotions.
Julian met Harry's gaze openly, gave a slight nod, and then elegantly walked into the Great Hall.
Friendship with the chosen one didn't need to be too deep; excessive contact would very likely attract the attention of a certain White Wizard.
He didn't want to become someone else's pawn.
At the breakfast table, Professor Snape sat at the staff table, scanning every student with his gloomy eyes.
When Julian sat down, their gazes met briefly in the air.
Snape narrowed his eyes slightly, as if he smelled something unusual on Julian.
Julian nonchalantly picked up a piece of toast and spread butter on it. He knew that while he was a favorite of Snape's in class...
...when it came to Harry, our Professor Snape wouldn't be stingy with a single shred of suspicion. Of course, Snapeshould be more worried about Quirrell right now.
"What a wonderful week," Julian said to himself.
He cut into a fried egg, and the golden yolk flowed out, looking much like the silver Unicorn blood from last night, just a different color.
He ate elegantly, his mind already beginning to frame the afternoon's study tasks; he didn't want to waste time on wizards chess like a certain someone.
Chapter 43: Guidance
After breakfast, Julian clutched two heavy parchment books—'Metaphors of Medieval Alchemy' and 'The Boundary Between Soul and Matter'—and slowly walked to a secluded corner in the deepest part of the Library.
Hermione Granger was already there, having waited for quite some time.
She was buried in a mountain of books that almost submerged her, her bushy brown hair as messy as a bird's nest, clearly the result of scratching it due to overthinking.
A smudge of ink stained the tip of her nose, and her quill moved rapidly across the parchment, making a rustling sound as if it were the most wonderful movement in the world.
Hearing footsteps, Hermione snapped her head up.
When she saw it was Julian, her tense shoulders instantly relaxed, and her eyes burst with the kind of light one only has when seeing a standard answer.
"You're here!" she lowered her voice, yet couldn't hide the urgency in her tone.
"I've re-examined 'Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century' following the line of thought you suggested. Although it only mentions the collaboration between Flamel and Dumbledore in Alchemy, I discovered a very interesting point in time."
She pushed an open book in front of Julian, her finger pointing at a line of small print.
"Look here, 1945. That was the year Dumbledoredefeated Grindelwald, and also the year of Flamel's last public appearance. The book says they completed a 'Great Work' together after that. Julian, what do you think it is..."
"The Philosopher's Stone."
Julian spoke the words softly, taking a seat in the chair opposite her.
He wasn't in a hurry to look at the book; instead, he pulled a clean white handkerchief from his robe pocket and wiped a speck of dust off the table with a hint of obsessive-compulsive behavior.
Hermione gasped, then covered her mouth, her eyes wide and round.
"The Philosopher's Stone... turning metal into gold, eternal life..." Hermione murmured to herself, her gaze beginning to grow a bit distant. "So that's what Hagridtook from Gringotts that day... that's what Fluffy is guarding..."
It was clear that Hermione was no longer on guard against Julian.
"Clever." Julian nodded approvingly, gently placing 'Metaphors of Medieval Alchemy' before Hermione. "But merely knowing the name isn't enough, Hermione. Knowledge without understanding is just a collection of meaningless symbols."
He flipped open the book and pointed to a complex Alchemical array.
"Look at this. This is 'Othala' (heritage/legacy) in Ancient Runes, and this is 'Algiz' (protection/defense). Flamel didn't create the Philosopher's Stone just for immortality... but for sealing."
Julian's voice was low and resonant, carrying a captivating power.
He didn't tell Hermione the whole truth directly, but instead guided her to think and discover, layer by layer, like peeling an onion.
"Sealing?" Hermione frowned, her train of thought completely led astray by Julian. "Sealing what? Death?"
"Perhaps something more terrifying than death." Julianlooked pointedly out the window, where a corner of the Forbidden Forest happened to be visible. "For example... an evil that cannot be completely destroyed."
Hermione shuddered. She had clearly associated it with something.
"Harry said..." She hesitated for a moment, but decided to share the secret with this "all-knowing" mentor before her.
"Harry said Professor Snape wants to steal that thing. On Halloween night, he saw Professor Snape's leg was injured, and he even tried to get past Fluffy..."
Julian sneered inwardly. Potter's intuition was sometimes frighteningly accurate, but his direction was always wildly off.
"Professor Snape?" Julian raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "That is an interesting deduction. However, Hermione, as a rigorous researcher, we cannot just look at the surface."
Julian leaned forward, hands folded on the table, looking directly into Hermione's eyes.
"Professor Snape is indeed unpleasant, even somewhat dark, but if he wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone for himself, why would he lurk in the school for so many years? With his Potion skills, he could live much better in Knockturn Alley or anywhere else."
"Then... then what is it for?" Hermione felt like her brain wasn't quite keeping up.
"Is there a possibility..." Julian lowered his voice, as if sharing a shocking secret, "that he is protecting that thing, or rather, monitoring the person who truly wants to steal it?"
Hermione's pupils contracted sharply.
"The person who truly wants to steal it..."
"Think about it, Hermione," Julian continued to induce her. "Who acts the most harmless? Who is always stuttering, leaving people completely off guard? Who carries that nauseating scent?"
"Professor Quirrell!" Hermione cried out, then immediately covered her mouth, looking around in terror.
Fortunately, Madam Pince was scolding a Hufflepuffstudent behind a distant bookshelf and hadn't noticed them.
"Shh..." Julian put a finger to his lips in a silencing gesture. "This is just a hypothesis. But before there is solid evidence, doubting everything is the attitude a wise person should have."
Hermione nodded vigorously, her gaze toward Julianfilled with admiration.
"You know so much, Julian," Hermione sighed sincerely. "Sometimes I feel like you're more profound than anything we learn in class. Even Ravenclaw students aren't as knowledgeable as you."
"Because I'm never satisfied with the answers given in books." Julian smiled faintly, reaching out to take the parchment covered in Hermione's notes. "Like this Transfiguration formula... there's a fatal logical flaw in your derivation here."
He picked up the quill and smoothly drew a few strokes on the parchment, modifying several key Runic symbols.
"The transformation of matter is not just a change in form, but a reorganization of essence. If you want to turn a match into a needle, you can't just think of'sharpness' and 'metal'; you have to think of'structure' and 'density'."
As his quill point glided across, the once obscure and difficult formula became smooth and elegant.
Hermione stared at the parchment, her eyes growing brighter and brighter.
"So that's how it is! Heavens, how did I not think of it... 'Gebo' (gift/exchange) should be placed in the middle as a medium, not at the end as a result!" She excitedly grabbed Julian's arm. "You're a genius!"
Julian didn't pull his hand away, letting her hold it. He could feel the warmth and slight trembling of the girl's palm.
"It's not called being a genius; it's called insight," he said gently. "As long as you're willing, you can do it too."
Just then, the Library door was pushed open.
Harry and Ron ran in, breathless.
They had obviously been looking for Hermione in the Castle for a long time. When they saw her sitting with Julian and even holding his arm, Ron's face instantly turned the color of a pig's liver.
"Hermione!" Ron shouted, drawing an angry glare from Madam Pince. "What are you doing here?! We've been looking for you all afternoon! You said you were going to look up Flamel, and yet here you are with... with him?"
Hermione let go of Julian's hand as if she'd received an electric shock. A flash of panic crossed her face, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of stubbornness.
"I'm studying, Ron." Hermione stood up, her tone a bit stiff. "And Julian helped me solve a Transfigurationproblem that's been bothering me for a long time. If you two could spend the time you use complaining on reading a few more books, maybe you'd know who Nicolas Flamel is too."
"You..." Ron was choked into silence, only able to glare angrily at Julian.
Harry appeared a bit more composed, but the wariness in his eyes had not diminished; lately, he suspected everything.
"Rosier," Harry said, looking at Julian. "I don't think a Slytherin would be so kind as to help a Gryffindor with tutoring. What exactly is your motive?"
Julian unhurriedly closed the book and stood up, that signature smile hanging on the corner of his mouth.
"Motive?" Julian chuckled softly. "Potter, this world isn't actually that narrow. Exchange between Houses doesn't necessarily have to involve a conspiracy."
Having said that, he ignored Harry and Ron, turning his head to look at Hermione.
"Today's discussion was very pleasant, Hermione. About that 'hypothesis,' remember to keep it a secret."
He bowed slightly, performing a standard noble's salute, then clutched his books and walked elegantly out of the Library under a flurry of gazes.
Behind him, Ron's exasperated voice could faintly be heard: "What is that 'hypothesis'? Hermione, you actually have secrets with him?!"
And Hermione's impatient retort: "Shut up, Ron! That's not something you'd understand!"
The moment he stepped out of the Library, the smile on Julian's face vanished instantly.
He looked up at the sun gradually sinking in the west outside the window.
"The seed has been planted. Now, I just wait for it to take root and sprout."
He felt the parchment in his pocket—it was a sketch of Hogwarts Castle's structure that he had surreptitiously taken from Hermione's pile of notes while she wasn't looking.
On it were marked several secret passage entrances that Hermione had speculated about; though most were wrong, it was still quite good.
...
Leaving the Library, Julian didn't go directly to the Great Hall but took a detour back to the Slytherin dormitory.
"Come out, stop pretending to sleep."
Julian gently patted the small bulge next to his pillow.
The black-and-white kitten—Blanche—crawled out from under the covers with extreme reluctance.
She shook her fur, her deep blue eyes filled with the annoyance of being woken up, and a sound like an idling engine purred from her throat.
"We have business," Julian said only three words.
The kitten's ears instantly perked up, her previous laziness vanishing without a trace. She nimbly jumped onto Julian's shoulder, her tail rubbing flatteringly against his neck, as if the grumpy creature from a moment ago hadn't been her at all.
"Eyes only for money." Julian chuckled, tossing a small bag of Galleons in his hand to make a crisp clinking sound before stuffing it into an inner robe pocket.
Man and cat crossed the moving staircases and arrived at the tapestry on the Eighth Floor of Barnabas the Barmybeing clubbed by Trolls.
Julian closed his eyes and walked back and forth three times in front of the tapestry, clearly constructing his need in his mind: 'I need an absolutely quiet, fully equipped Alchemy laboratory capable of handling high-risk Dark Arts materials.'
On the wall, that smooth door silently emerged.
Pushing open the door, a stale air mixed with the scent of sulfur and mercury rushed at him.
This was no longer the junk-filled scrapyard from last time.
The room had become narrow and compact, its walls built of black basalt and covered with densely packed ancient Alchemical symbols that were faintly glowing.
In the center of the room stood a massive stone table, equipped with a full set of brass distillers, crystal tubes, and a mithril cauldron that was automatically heating.
"A perfect laboratory."
Julian walked to the stone table and took out the crystal bottle containing the Contaminated Unicorn Blood.
Even through the stopper, that unsettling silver light still illuminated half the room.
Blanche jumped down from his shoulder and landed on a corner of the stone table. She stared at the bottle, her fur instantly standing on end, and let out a sharp hiss.
As an Animagus, she perceived the curse contained within this blood more keenly than a human—it was a desecration of life, a distortion of natural laws.
"Don't be nervous." Julian put on a pair of dragon-hide gloves, his voice frighteningly calm.
He pulled out the stopper and poured the viscous, mud-mixed silver liquid into the cauldron.
"Incendio."
He didn't use ordinary fire, but instead controlled the tip of his wand to spit out a stream of blue-white cold fire.
This kind of fire had an extremely high temperature but would not destroy the spiritual nature of magical materials.
As the temperature rose, the liquid in the cauldron began to boil.
A white smoke with a sweet, cloying, metallic scent rose up, instantly filling the entire room.
Within that smoke, there seemed to be countless pained human faces twisting and screaming—it was the lingering resentment of the Unicorn before its death.
Julian felt a wave of dizziness.
The diadem against his chest began to grow hot, and that seductive voice rang out again, clearer than ever before:
"...Such pure agony... such a perfect vessel... put me on... let me teach you how to devour it... you will gain power beyond death..."
"Shut up."
Julian gritted his teeth, a flash of ruthlessness appearing in his amber eyes.
He jerked his wand, constructing a solid barrier around his mind to forcibly suppress that voice.
"Blanche! Hand me that green bottle on the left! It's Mandrake juice, hurry!"
He couldn't afford to be distracted; he had to use both hands to control the stability of the fire.
The black-and-white kitten on the table froze for a moment, seemingly hesitating whether to obey this command. But when she saw the cold sweat on Julian's forehead and the cauldron that was beginning to spiral out of control, spitting out corrosive droplets, she moved.
She didn't use her paws to push it; instead, in a blur of distorted light and shadow, she instantly transformed into a lithe young woman.
She still wore that slightly disheveled black-and-white dress, her deep blue eyes flashing with shrewdness. She grabbed the green bottle, her movements astonishingly practiced, and poured the juice inside into the cauldron with unerring accuracy.
"Sss—"
After a piercing hiss, the once-violent silver liquid instantly calmed down.
The life force of the Mandrake neutralized the death curse in the Unicorn blood.
Blanche didn't change back into a cat; instead, she leaned lazily against the edge of the stone table, arms crossed, watching Julian continue his work.
"This is going to cost extra, Master Rosier." Her voice had a unique rasp and laziness, like a cat's meow at midnight. "Helping you handle this kind of contraband—if Dumbledore found out, my little shop wouldn't be able to stay open."
"Cut the chatter." Julian didn't look up, his attention entirely focused on the final separation step. "When it's done, fifty Galleons."
"One hundred." Blanche held up a finger and wagged it in the air. "This is Unicorn blood. Even if it is a bit dirty, it's still a top-tier Dark Arts material. You're using it to repair that legendary vanishing cabinet... this little bit of hush money isn't too much to ask, is it?"
Chapter 44: Entering the diadem Again
Julian's hand shook for a moment, but he quickly steadied himself and grit his teeth. "...Deal."
Julian took a deep breath and flicked his wand upward sharply.
The liquid in the cauldron separated completely.
The black mud and curse residue sank to the bottom, condensing into an ugly piece of coke. Floating on top was a thumb-sized, suffocatingly pure silver droplet.
It no longer emitted a fishy smell; instead, it flowed with a divine luster, like liquid moonlight.
Mercury Blood (Mercury Blood) — a top-tier conduction medium for spatial magic.
Julian quickly collected the liquid in a small crystal bottle and added a Triple Sealing Charm.
Only after finishing all this did he feel his strength completely drained. He pulled off his gloves, tossed them on the table, and slid down against the wall, panting heavily.
Blanche walked up to him, looking down from above, and then extended her fair palm.
"Pay up."
Julian smiled helplessly, pulled the bag of Galleons from his robes, and tossed it into her hand.
"You really are a Vampire."
"Likewise." Blanche weighed the coin purse in her hand and squinted her eyes with satisfaction.
With a shift of light and shadow, she transformed back into that black-and-white kitten, picked up the coin purse in her mouth, and nimbly jumped onto Julian's lap, finding a comfortable position to lie down.
"Meow~" (You can hire me for this kind of work again next time, as long as the money is right.)
Julian looked at the fluffy creature on his lap, his eyes becoming somewhat complex.
He had not only successfully refined the repair materials but had also unexpectedly reached an interest-based "accomplice" relationship with this mysterious pet shop owner.
This was much more stable than a simple master-servant relationship.
"Let's go."
After resting for a moment, Julian stood up and stuffed the kitten, along with the coin purse, into his wide robe pocket.
"Let's go to the Great Hall to get something to eat. Even if I'm to be the Shadow Leader of Slytherin, I have to fill my stomach first."
...
When Julian walked into the Great Hall, dinner was already halfway through.
Although his robes had been tidied, they still carried a faint scent of sulfur. This made him look as if he had just returned from some battlefield, adding a touch of mystery.
At the Slytherin table, Draco was boasting loudly about something. Seeing Julian approach, he immediately shut his mouth and even subconsciously moved aside, giving up the central seat.
"Good evening, Julian." Pansy Parkinson eagerly handed him a cup of pumpkin juice. "You missed a good show just now. Weasley tried to turn a rat into a goblet, but the rat grew a furry tail and started screaming inside the cup."
"Is that so?" Julian took the cup nonchalantly, his gaze sweeping over the Gryffindor table.
Ron was holding that rat named Scabbers—which was actually Peter Pettigrew—looking dejected.
Harry, meanwhile, was somewhat distracted, his gaze drifting from time to time toward Snape and then toward Quirrell.
Hermione was sitting a little further away from them, still holding a book, but when she saw Julian, she gave him a subtle nod.
It was a greeting between allies.
Julian returned a very faint smile and then elegantly sliced into the steak on his plate.
Today's steak was only medium-rare, and red blood flowed out when it was cut.
This reminded him of that Unicorn again.
He had been truly exhausted these past few days; for a child still growing, this wouldn't do—he needed rest.
Back in the dormitory, Julian sat on his four-poster bed, having cast heavy Muffliato and Ignore-Me Charms around him.
Changed into silk pajamas, he held the diadem that radiated a lethal temptation in his hands.
"One more time..." Julian whispered to himself, his voice so soft he could barely hear it.
This was an act of walking a tightrope; he had already gained great benefits from the last consumption, but...
After hesitating once more, Julian made his decision. He took a deep breath, pushed his Occlumency to its limit to build an imaginary wall of iron and bronze, and then—
Slowly placed rowena ravenclaws diadem upon his head.
In an instant, the noise of the world vanished.
There was no sound, no temperature, no color.
In its place was an absolute, cold, and suffocating "clarity."
It was as if a scalpel had directly sliced open his skull, forcibly pouring countless streams of cold data into his mind.
The scene before him changed drastically: the Slytherindormitory vanished, and the rough sketch in Hermione's hand burned, turning into countless golden points of light.
These points of light reorganized rapidly in the void, with lines stretching, intersecting, and constructing.
It was Hogwarts.
But not the Hogwarts seen by the naked eye.
In the vision of the diadem, this Castle turned into a transparent geometric body composed of magic circuits.
The walls were void; only the flow of magic was real.
Julian felt his vision traveling at high speed.
Second floor... Girls' Bathroom...
The place Hermione had marked as a "strange entrance" zoomed in instantly in Julian's perception.
He saw it.
It wasn't an ordinary sewer; it was a massive, complex pipe network system that spread throughout the Castle's underground.
They were ancient, massive, and exuded a cold aura belonging to the era of Salazar Slytherin.
"...Pipes... are the paths of snakes..."
An elegant, haughty, yet bone-chilling voice echoed directly in the depths of his soul.
That was not his own thought, for as a transmigrator, Julian knew well what was inside; this voice was merely trying to entice an inexperienced Slytherin.
A pity, but Julian was not.
"...Do you see? Young Rosier... This is the truth... Look further down... deeper... something is calling..."
The voice was full of temptation, guiding Julian's consciousness to continue diving, passing through the dark pipe walls and falling toward the massive cavity deep underground.
An unprecedented sense of omniscience filled Julian's brain; he felt as if he had become a god, and as long as he was willing, he could solve all the mysteries of the world.
As long as... he surrendered control of his body.
That cold will followed his mental tentacles and began to greedily climb upward, attempting to entwine his core consciousness.
It wanted more, it wanted to keep him, it wanted to—consume him.
"Get out!"
In reality, Julian suddenly let out a low growl.
Using every ounce of willpower, his hands gripped the diadem on his head, tearing it off fiercely as if ripping away a bandage stuck to skin and flesh.
Chapter 45: Aftermath
Clang—
The diadem fell onto the thick carpet, letting out a dull thud.
"Ha... ha... ha..."
Julian gasped heavily for air, his entire body looking as if he had just been fished out of water, his pajamas soaked through with cold sweat.
A wave of intense dizziness hit him, and he felt a warm liquid trickling from his nostrils. He raised a hand to wipe it, and his palm came away bright red.
That was the price of overextending his mental energy. He slumped onto the bed, his heart pounding violently, slamming against his ribs.
"Madman... truly a madman..."
He didn't know if he was cursing Lord Voldemort or himself.
But he had succeeded.
Even though his head felt like it was splitting open, the three-dimensional map of the Castle's pipe network was now deeply etched into his mind.
Through this infiltration, he had also learned a certain language—Parseltongue.
More importantly, he had confirmed the location of the Chamber of Secrets; it was deeper within the Black Lake, directly beneath the Slytherin Dungeon.
With trembling hands, Julian fumbled an Invigoration Potion out of his nightstand and downed it in one go.
The bitter liquid flowed down his throat, slightly easing the tearing headache.
He picked up the diadem from the floor. At this moment, it had returned to being a lifeless antique, as if the monster that had just tried to devour his soul had never existed.
"One day..." Julian stared at it, his eyes dark and sinister, "I will conquer you completely..."
He locked the diadem back into the ebony box, which was protected by the highest-level defensive spells, and then collapsed heavily onto his pillow.
That night, he did not dream. Or rather, he no longer dared to dream.
...
The next day, Monday.
When Julian walked into the Great Hall, his face was even paler than usual, with faint dark circles under his eyes, but this only added a touch of sickly, aristocratic beauty to him.
"You look like you've been kissed by a Dementor."
Blanche—currently in human form—was sitting at the end of the Slytherin table, holding a piece of toast slathered in jam.
She was wearing a Hogwarts school uniform today, blending into the crowd of students without any sense of incongruity; she had likely used a Confundo charm again.
Of course, such behavior was limited to when no Professors were present.
"Tired yourself out counting money last night?" Julian sat down beside her, his voice somewhat raspy.
"One never tires of counting money." Blanche rolled her eyes and lowered her voice, "But I can smell it; there's a very dangerous scent on you."
She leaned in close to Julian and sniffed like a cat, a flash of wariness appearing in her deep blue eyes.
"Don't play with fire, Rosier. There are some things even I wouldn't dare touch."
"I know what I'm doing," Julian responded flatly, accepting a cup of steaming black coffee.
Just then, swarms of owls flew into the Great Hall, bringing the morning rain of mail.
A majestic eagle owl cut through the chaotic flock and landed steadily beside the golden dinner plate in front of Julian.
It was Metis.
It extended a leg, to which was tied a heavy envelope sealed with the Rosier Family's wax crest.
Julian's fingers paused for a moment, and then a very faint smile curled at the corners of his mouth.
His father's reply had arrived.
He didn't rush to open it, instead feeding Metis a piece of bacon first.
At the Gryffindor table not far away, Harry was wrestling with Ron over a copy of The Daily Prophet, while Hermione was secretly observing Julian while sipping her porridge.
When she saw Julian's pale complexion, her brow furrowed in concern.
Julian felt her gaze and turned his head slightly, raising his coffee cup toward her across the four long tables.
Hermione's face flushed, and she quickly looked down.
"It seems our Lord prefect's charm hasn't waned." Dracoapproached at some point, staring at the envelope in Julian's hand with a hint of envy in his tone.
"Is that a letter from Uncle Alick? My father says the Ministry of Magic has been so busy lately he doesn't have time for me."
"Busy dealing with some... trash," Julian said meaningfully, then stuffed the envelope into his bag.
"Eat up, Draco. The first period is Potion Class, unless you want to be turned into Potion ingredients by Professor Snape."
"Oh, Merlin!" Draco wailed, hurriedly stuffing a sausage into his mouth. "I forgot to preview the ingredients for the antidote!"
Julian watched the flustered Draco, but his gaze drifted past him toward the staff table.
Snape was still in his black robes, but today his gaze didn't linger on Harry for long; instead, he was staring intently at Quirrell.
As for Quirrell... he looked even weaker than usual, his turban wrapped tighter, his face as pale as paper.
"It seems I wasn't the only one who didn't sleep well last night."
...
The air in the dungeon classroom was always stagnant and cold, permeated year-round by the smell of formaldehyde from pickled animal specimens and the strange vapors of various Potions.
To Julian, who currently had a splitting headache, this place was practically an execution ground, but he had to endure.
"Grind the dried nettles into powder, then add the crushed snake fangs..." Snape's voice, smooth as silk yet carrying a bone-chilling coldness, echoed through the classroom.
"Pay attention to the direction of stirring: three times counter-clockwise, once clockwise. If anyone dares to get this step wrong, I will stuff him into the cauldron and boil him along with it."
Julian stood before his cauldron, his face as pale as paper, a layer of fine cold sweat beading on his temples.
With every breath, his lungs felt as if they were inhaling ice shards.
The aftermath of last night's mental tug-of-war with the Horcrux was even more severe than he had imagined.
His vision even doubled occasionally, and the purple smoke rising from the cauldron twisted into hideous ghoulish faces in his eyes.
However, the hand holding his silver knife was terrifyingly steady.
This was a technique of detaching the will from the flesh; he was like a calm observer, controlling this vessel named 'Julian Rosier' to perform precise mechanical movements.
Click, click, click.
The snake fangs turned into uniform granules under the blade, each one appearing as if it had been measured with a ruler.
Beside him, Draco was already in a fluster, accidentally dropping porcupine quills into the cauldron before it was removed from the fire, resulting in a cloud of foul-smelling green smoke.
"Idiot," Julian cursed under his breath, his wand moving inconspicuously. "Scourgify."
The green smoke vanished instantly. Draco looked at him with tearful gratitude, nearly ready to throw himself at Julian's feet.
"Focus, Draco. Unless you want Professor Snape to feed your brains to the slugs," Julian's voice was weak yet authoritative.
Just then, a black shadow loomed over him.
Snape stood behind him at some unknown point, those deep, hollow black eyes staring fixedly at Julian's cauldron before slowly shifting to his bloodless face.
"Perfect cutting, Rosier," Snape said softly, his tone unreadable.
"The color of the Potion is also a standard violet. It seems that even when mentally lethargic, a Slytherin student knows how to maintain decorum."
Snape turned around, his black robes billowing in a sharp arc. His gaze instantly became fierce as it shot toward the Gryffindor table.
"Potter! Tell me what happens if a bezoar is added to this antidote?"
"I... I don't know, sir," Harry stammered, his face full of embarrassment.
"Clearly, fame isn't everything," Snape sneered. "Five points from Gryffindor for your ignorance."
The classroom fell into a dead silence, save for the bubbling of the cauldrons.
The bell for the end of class finally rang, which was like celestial music to Julian's ears.
"Rosier, stay behind."
As the students scrambled out of the classroom, Snapecalled out to him coldly.
Harry and Ron gave Julian a sympathetic look before running off with a hint of schadenfreude.
Draco hesitated for a moment, but under Snape's glare, he shrunk his neck and slipped away.
Chapter 46: The Tsundere Professor Snape
Julian stood before the lectern, forcing his body to remain upright as he gave a slight bow. "Professor."
Snape didn't speak; he simply stared at him for a long time. His gaze felt as if it could pierce through Julian's skin to see the secrets hidden deep within his mind.
Julian immediately erected his Occlumency barriers, even though doing so made his headache even worse.
"You have the lingering scent of the Dark Arts on you, Rosier," Snape said suddenly, his voice kept very low. "Though you've concealed it well with numerous Cleansing Charms, that scent of decay cannot elude my nose."
Julian's heart gave a sudden squeeze, but his expression remained as calm as a placid lake. "Perhaps it is because I have been researching some ancient texts left by my family lately, Professor. As you know, the Rosier Familyhas always possessed some... unique collections."
"Do not play with fire." Snape slid a small, unlabeled glass vial from his sleeve and slammed it down onto the desk.
"Drink it. I do not wish for my star pupil to faint during the next lesson; that would be an insult to Slytherin."
Julian was taken aback for a moment. He then picked up the vial and uncorked it, greeted by a refreshing scent of peppermint.
It was a Potent Soothing Draught, and a masterwork at that.
"Thank you, Professor," Julian said with genuine sincerity.
"Get out." Snape turned his back to him and waved him away.
...
Leaving the Potion Class, Julian did not head to the Great Hall for lunch. He had no appetite for anything right now.
Holding the vial of potion, he didn't drink it immediately but carefully tucked it into his pocket—Snape's potions were worth their weight in gold; it might be better to save it for a critical moment.
Walking through the empty corridors, he arrived at a stone cloister by the Black Lake.
It was sheltered from the wind here. Sunlight filtered through thin clouds, shimmering on the lake's surface. Occasionally, the Giant Squid could be seen lazily stretching out a tentacle.
After confirming no one was around, Julian leaned against a cold stone pillar and pulled the letter from a hidden compartment in his bag.
Heavy parchment, with a dark red wax seal depicting a rose entwined in thorns—the crest of the House of Rosier.
With a flick of his finger, magic pried open the wax seal.
The letter unfolded, and Alick Rosier's elegant yet sharp cursive came into view.
My son, Julian:
I hope this letter finds you well.
Regarding the curse on 'that position' you mentioned in your letter, it is indeed recorded in the family archives. This is no ordinary jinx, but a conceptual anchoring based on the 'Law of Causality'.
After You-Know-Who was rejected for the position, he grafted an ancient contract known as the 'Ring of Despair' onto it. Anyone who holds this position for more than a year will suffer a backlash of misfortune for 'failing to fulfill the contract'.
The method to break it is yet unknown, but this is precisely the field you need to explore. Remember, a Rosier never fears the darkness—we harness it.
Furthermore, hearing that your performance at Hogwartsis acceptable, the family has decided to grant you some additional support. Enclosed is a Gringotts draft for 500 Galleons. Use it for any connections you need to grease or materials you need to purchase.
Finally, there is a ring inside the envelope. It is the 'Onyx Mind Ring' worn by your grandfather, Evan Rosier, during his lifetime. It assists the wearer in stabilizing their mental barriers, resisting Legilimency and mental corruption.
Wear it. Don't die. You are the only hope for the Rosiers.
—Your Father, A.R.
After reading the letter, a complex smile played on Julian's lips.
"Don't die... what a paternal piece of advice."
He tipped the envelope upside down, and a silver ring, pitch-black and engraved with miniature runes, slid into his palm.
The ring felt cool to the touch, emitting a calm and steady vibration.
It was exactly what he needed most right now.
Without hesitation, Julian slipped it onto his right middle finger.
In an instant, a cool current surged from his finger into his arm and straight to his brain.
The needle-like headache receded rapidly. His mental defenses, which had felt like they might collapse at any moment, now felt as though they had been reinforced with concrete, becoming firm and stable.
"Phew..." Julian let out a long breath of turbid air, finally feeling like he had come back to life.
Just then, the sound of light footsteps came from the other end of the cloister.
Julian quickly folded the letter away and adjusted his posture, making himself look slightly weak but with an added air of melancholy.
"Julian?"
Hermione Granger, clutching several thick tomes, peeked her head out cautiously. She looked a bit out of breath, clearly having run all the way there.
"Oh, Hermione." Julian turned his head and gave a forced smile, his voice soft. "What are you doing here? Aren't you going to eat?"
"I... I saw you didn't go to the Great Hall, so I was a bit worried." Hermione walked over to him, her eyes falling on his pale face, filled with concern. "You look terrible. Was Professor Snape hard on you?"
"No, the Professor just... has high expectations for me." Julian lowered his gaze, his fingers unconsciously tracing the newly donned onyx ring.
"I've just been researching some topics lately and overextended myself. You know, sometimes the price of truth is high."
Coupled with his current fragile appearance, these words were a finishing blow to someone like Hermione, whose personality was filled with both maternal warmth and a young girl's maturity.
Hermione bit her lip and sat down beside him, maintaining a polite but intimate distance.
"You're always working so hard," Hermione complained softly, her tone carrying a hint of heartache. "Actually... you could rely on someone else. Like... like me."
Julian turned his head, his amber eyes gazing deeply into hers.
"Rely on you?" Julian chuckled softly, with a touch of self-deprecation. "To drag you into this dangerous knowledge? Hermione, you're a Gryffindor. You should be running in the sunlight, not accompanying me in the gutters to study obscure Runic Script."
"I'm not afraid!" Hermione interrupted him urgently, her face flushing red. "And... and I think the things you're researching are very meaningful! They aren't just obscure knowledge; they're... they're the essence of magic! I want to help you, Julian. I really do."
The fish had taken the bait, and it had taken it hook, line, and sinker.
An imperceptible glint flashed in Julian's eyes, but his expression became even softer and more moved.
He reached out and gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind Hermione's ear. This gesture was a bit over the line, causing Hermione to freeze instantly, even holding her breath.
"Since you're so insistent..." Julian withdrew his hand, his voice low.
"As it happens, I have indeed hit some bottlenecks. Regarding the construction history of Hogwarts Castle, specifically certain... hidden designs left by Salazar Slytherin.
I need someone to help me look up specific information. Some books might not be in the general section, but I believe with your intelligence, you'll definitely be able to find clues from those seemingly useless school histories."
"You mean... the Chamber of Secrets?" Hermione lowered her voice, her eyes shining brilliantly.
"Shh..." Julian raised a finger to his lips. "We call it the forgotten legacy. Will you be my eyes, Hermione?"
Hermione nodded vigorously, as if she had received some sacred mission.
"I will."
Just as the atmosphere between the two was heating up, even carrying a hint of romantic pink bubbles, a white paper crane flew over wobbly and smacked right into Julian's forehead.
The paper crane unfolded, revealing a single line of scrawled handwriting:
"Come to Hagrid's hut quickly. Something big has happened! —Harry"
Julian frowned. Potter? At a time like this?
Hermione saw the note as well, her expression turning a bit awkward. "Uh... Harry mentioned before that Hagridwanted us to go see him. It's supposedly about... about something he's raising."
"Something Hagrid is raising?" A name instantly flashed through Julian's mind—Norbert. That Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon.
It seemed the gears of the plot had begun to turn.
Chapter 47: The Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon
"Since it's Hagrid's invitation, perhaps I should pay a visit as well." Julian stood up, his movements still carrying that deliberately cultivated, sickly air.
Hermione appeared somewhat hesitant, biting her lower lip as her gaze drifted between Julian's pale face and the note in her hand.
"But your health... Hagrid's place is always a mess, and..." Hermione lowered her voice, as if afraid of startling a spirit in the wind. "The 'big things' Harry mentions usually aren't very safe."
"Precisely because of that, I can't let you go alone." Julianlooked down at her, the girl's conflicted expression reflected in his pupils, his tone gentle, almost like a sigh. "Gryffindor courage is admirable, but sometimes, you all need a bit of Slytherin... prudence."
These words acted like a stimulant, instantly shattering Hermione's defenses. She felt her heart skip a beat, the sweet sensation of being valued and protected outweighing her fear of breaking the rules.
"Then... alright, but you must stay close to me. If there's any danger, we run immediately," she instructed with the seriousness of a little adult.
Julian nodded with a smile, though a hint of amusement flashed in his eyes.
Run? No, if there really is a dragon, hehehe...
...
The path leading to Hagrid's hut was not an easy one.
Although the afternoon sun was bright, the air at the edge of the Forbidden Forest always carried a damp, earthy smell.
The closer they got to the rickety wooden hut, the higher the temperature in the air became.
Before even reaching the door, Julian could already smell a strong mixture of burning pine, musty animal hides, and a sulfur-like scorched scent.
This was a high-temperature field maintained specifically for hatching some kind of magical creature.
Hermione stepped forward and knocked on the door.
"Who's there?!"
A panicked roar came from inside, followed by a frantic clatter of collisions, as if something heavy had been kicked over. Fang—the giant boarhound—began barking wildly inside.
"It's us, Hagrid! Harry told me to come!" Hermioneshouted.
The door opened a crack, and Hagrid's large, bearded face appeared, drenched in sweat, his eyes darting around uncertainly.
"Oh, Hermione... come in, quick..."
Hagrid's gaze suddenly froze.
Because he saw Julian standing half a step behind Hermione, covering his nose and mouth with a handkerchief, looking indifferent.
"A... a Slytherin?!" Hagrid's voice instantly jumped an octave, and he slammed the door almost shut. "How could you bring a Slytherin here! No! Absolutely not!"
"Hagrid!" Hermione braced herself against the door, showing surprising strength and determination. "Julian is my friend! He knows how to behave, and... and I'm the one who asked him to come! If you don't let him in, I'm leaving too!"
Ron's exclamation came from inside: "Hermione? Are you crazy? That's Rosier! That..."
"Let him in, Hagrid," Harry's voice rang out, hesitant but much calmer than Ron's. "If he starts shouting outside, we'll be in even more trouble."
Hagrid hesitated for a long time before finally pulling the door open, grumbling under his breath.
"Fine, but if you dare to snoop or blab, I'll have Fang bite your backside!"
Julian elegantly stepped aside and slipped into the hut.
As soon as he entered, a wave of heat hit him in the face.
The curtains were all drawn tight, and the fire in the fireplace was burning fiercely; the whole room was as hot as a sauna.
Harry and Ron were sitting at the table, sweating profusely, their faces flushed red from the heat.
Seeing Julian enter, Ron jumped up like a cat with its fur standing on end, shielding the teapot on the table.
"What are you doing here? To mock us? Or to spy for Malfoy?" Ron glared at him fiercely.
"Calm down, Ron." Julian ignored his provocation and found a slightly cleaner-looking chair to sit in.
His right hand stroked the Black Onyx Ring on his left index finger; the coolness radiating from the ring kept Julian absolutely clear-headed in this stifling heat.
"I'm not interested in your pathetic little secrets. I only came to accompany Hermione," he said calmly, his gaze shifting past Ron to the center of the fireplace.
There, being baked by the roaring flames, lay a large, blackish egg that looked like a stone.
It was a dragon egg.
And judging by the patterns on the surface and the faint red light glowing through, it was about to hatch.
"Is that... a Norwegian Ridgeback?" Julian raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying a hint of professional appreciation. "A fine specimen, Hagrid. Where did you get it? Something like this would sell for over two thousand Galleons in Knockturn Alley."
Hagrid was wiping sweat with a huge rag; hearing this, his eyes lit up, his obsession with magical creatures instantly overriding his prejudice against Slytherins.
"You know about dragons too? Oh, it's a little beauty... I won it at the Hog's Head. That stranger seemed all too eager to get rid of it..."
"A stranger?" Julian caught the keyword.
Quirrell, or perhaps one of Voldemort's puppets.
Just then, the black egg suddenly gave a violent shudder.
*Crack.*
A crisp cracking sound caused the air in the room to instantly freeze.
"Look! It's coming out!" Hagrid was so excited he nearly singed his beard as he lunged toward the fireplace.
Harry and Ron also forgot their hostility toward Julianand crowded around.
Hermione nervously grabbed Julian's sleeve. "What is that? Is it really a dragon?"
"Watch." Julian gently patted the back of her hand with one hand, while the other silently pulled a small crystal bottle from his robe pocket.
The cracks in the eggshell grew larger and larger as the creature inside struggled desperately against its confinement.
Finally, with a sharp scraping sound, the eggshell burst open.
A small, black, shriveled monster rolled onto the table.
It looked like a folded black umbrella, with black spiny ridges along its back, large bulging orange eyes, and white smoke puffing from its nostrils.
"Oh, goodness, look how beautiful he is!" Hagrid reached out a thick finger, attempting to stroke its head. "He knows his mommy! Hello, Norbert!"
"Norbert? You've named it already?" Ron's lip twitched. "Hagrid, it looks like it wants to bite your finger off."
As if to prove Ron right, the dragonet suddenly snapped its jaws open, revealing sharp Fangs, and took a bite at Hagrid's finger.
"Ouch!" Hagrid pulled his hand back, but his smile only grew wider. "Look at that, he's got spirit!"
While everyone's attention was captured by this newborn beast, Julian moved.
He didn't just stare blankly like the others. Taking advantage of their distraction, his wand flicked slightly within his sleeve, and a Non-verbal Spell was cast.
Several pieces of black eggshell scattered on the table, still coated in slime, along with a pool of undried amniotic fluid, flew silently into the crystal bottle in his hand, drawn by an invisible force.
These were top-tier alchemy materials.
The shell of a newborn dragon egg possessed extremely strong magic-blocking properties, while the amniotic fluid was an excellent base for crafting "Fire Affinity Potions" and certain Dark Arts concoctions.
"You can't keep this thing in the school, Hagrid." Julianstowed the bottle away, his voice calmly shattering Hagrid's paternal delusions. "It will grow very quickly. In a week, this hut won't be able to hold it. In a month, the fire it breathes could burn down half the Forbidden Forest."
"I know, I know..." Hagrid's eyes welled up as he held the little spark-spitting monster. "But he's so small, I can't just throw him away..."
"Send it to Romania," Harry suddenly said. "Ron has a brother there who studies dragons. We could write to him."
"Good idea," Hermione immediately agreed. "But how do we get it there? If we're caught..."
Suddenly, Julian's expression changed.
The Black Onyx Ring sent a stinging warning.
He abruptly turned his head to look out the window.
Although the curtains were drawn tight, there was a tiny gap at one corner.
Chapter 48: The Expected Person
Behind that crack, a pair of grey eyes stared into the room with terror and greed.
That signature platinum hair flashed in the sunlight.
Draco Malfoy.
He had followed them after all.
Julian's gaze instantly turned cold. If he let Malfoy go and snitch now, while it would dock points from Gryffindor, it would also cause the Ministry of Magic to intervene. Hagrid would be arrested, and the dragon would be confiscated—then Julian's subsequent plan for 'material collection' would go up in smoke.
More importantly, he hadn't yet secured enough leverage in the form of a favor from Potter.
"Someone's there," Julian whispered.
"What?" Harry and Ron jumped in fright.
Julian didn't explain. He stood up, strode to the door, and yanked it open.
Outside the door, Draco, who was just about to turn and flee, froze.
He hadn't expected the person opening the door to be Julian.
"Ju... Julian?" Draco was stunned. The smug expression of having caught someone red-handed hadn't even had time to fade before it turned into bewilderment. "Why are you inside? Are you... are you also hanging around with these idiots?"
Julian didn't say a word. He simply stepped out, closing the door behind him to block the view of the room's interior.
He looked down at Draco, his eyes devoid of any warmth, possessing only a suffocating sense of pressure.
"Draco," Julian's voice was very soft, yet it felt like a cold snake slithering up Draco's spine. "What did you see?"
"I... I think I saw Hagrid raising a dragon!" Dracostammered, trying to regain his aura. "This is illegal! I'm going to tell Professor Snape! I'm going to get Potterexpelled!"
"And then?" Julian took a step forward, forcing Dracoback a step. "And then Professor Snape will ask why I was inside too. What will you say? Say that I'm also helping Potter raise a dragon?"
"I... I didn't mean it like that..." Draco panicked.
"Listen." Julian reached out and helped Draco straighten his slightly crooked tie. His movements were as gentle as an older brother's, but his eyes were terrifyingly cold.
"That wasn't a dragon. That was just a rather ugly giant lizard Hagrid is keeping. You didn't see anything. Understand?"
"But..."
"No buts." Julian's fingers slid to Draco's shoulder, squeezing slightly until Draco's face turned pale.
"This is something I am handling. If you go snitching, you're interfering with this plan. I don't like people disrupting my plans, not even you, Draco."
"And," Julian leaned into his ear and whispered, "if you keep your mouth shut, I can lend you my perfect-score notes to copy during the next Potion Class."
The carrot and the stick.
Draco's Adam's apple bobbed. His awe of Julian, combined with his desire for those notes, triumphed over his urge to report Potter.
"Fine..." Draco grumbled reluctantly. "Since you said so... I'll act like I didn't see anything. But that idiot Potter will get what's coming to him sooner or later."
"Good boy." Julian patted his cheek. "Now, go back to the Castle, and don't look back."
Watching Draco leave while looking back every few steps, the chill in the depths of Julian's eyes finally began to dissipate.
He turned, pushed open the door, and returned to the suffocatingly hot little hut.
The three people inside were staring nervously at the door.
"Was it Malfoy?" Harry gripped his wand tightly. "Did he see?"
"He saw," Julian said calmly as he sat back down in his chair, looking at the little dragon gnawing on a table leg. "But I made him shut up."
"How... how did you do it?" Ron's mouth hung open in disbelief. "That bastard Malfoy never listens to anyone."
"Slytherin has Slytherin ways." Julian smiled meaningfully, his gaze landing on Harry. "Now, Potter, you owe me a favor—a big one."
Harry looked at Julian. Though he still felt somewhat uneasy, he knew that if Malfoy had run off just now, they would have been finished.
"...Thank you," Harry said with difficulty.
"You're welcome." Julian pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Now, let's talk about how to deal with this... troublesome little thing. I imagine you certainly don't want it to starve to death before it's sent away? I know a formula that can make it grow faster and stronger... of course, there's a fee for that too."
Hermione looked at Julian, her eyes practically overflowing with stars.
Not only had he protected them, but he had even gone to threaten Malfoy for their sake. Although she didn't know the specifics, it must have been so.
"Julian..." Hermione called out softly.
Julian turned and winked at her. It was a signal only the two of them could understand: See, this is the Slytherinway of solving things.
After leaving Hagrid's sweltering, purgatory-like hut, the crisp air poured back into his lungs, but it didn't make Julian feel relaxed.
On the contrary, his brain was working at high speed, calculating the risks and rewards of every subsequent step.
"Julian, are you really okay?" Hermione followed at his side, her pace somewhat hurried. She was still clutching her wand tightly, seemingly still shaken by the tense atmosphere of facing Malfoy earlier.
"I'm fine, Hermione." Julian stopped and turned to face her, lowering his eyelids slightly. His long eyelashes cast a shadow over his eyes, making him look fragile and charming.
"It's just the temperature in that room... you know, my body doesn't handle extreme environments very well right now. I think I need to go back to the dormitory and lie down for a while, or go to the Hospital Wing to get some restorative potion."
It was a perfect excuse.
The worry in Hermione's eyes grew even stronger. She instinctively reached out to support him but stopped mid-air, seemingly remembering that previous ambiguous head-pat, and her cheeks flushed slightly.
"Then let me go with you to the Hospital Wing? Madam Pomfrey will surely have a way."
"No, there's no need," Julian refused gently but firmly. "You have more important things to do, remember? Regarding the 'Forgotten Legacy.' Madam Pince at the Library should be in a good mood around this time; it's the perfect time to look up information. I'll come find you once I've rested."
He emphasized the words 'Forgotten Legacy,' imbuing Hermione with a special sense of mission.
Sure enough, Hermione's gaze changed from worry to determination.
"Alright, I'll go. I'll compile all the relevant information."
Hermione nodded solemnly, like a soldier making a promise to a superior officer. "I believe in you, Hermione." Julian gave her one last encouraging smile, then turned and headed toward the Castle's main staircase.
Watching Hermione's back as she hurried toward the Library clutching her books, the smile on Julian's lips vanished instantly.
Sending Hermione away was necessary.
The things he was about to do next were filled with the stench of the Dark Arts and the danger of contraband; he absolutely could not let this righteous little lion see it—at least not yet.
Chapter 49: Repairing the vanishing cabinet
Eighth Floor of the Castle.
Opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by Trolls was a blank stretch of wall.
Julian looked around, and after confirming the corridor was empty, he began to pace back and forth in front of the wall.
"I need a place to hide things... I need a place to hide things... I need a place to hide things..."
Julian chanted silently in his heart, his strong will guiding the ancient magic of the Castle.
A smooth door slowly emerged on the wall, its handle made of brass and bearing the oxidized marks of time.
Pushing the door open and entering, a familiar musty smell—a mixture of dust, old books, and forgotten years—wafted over him.
This was a graveyard of junk, yet a paradise for treasure hunters.
Julian skillfully navigated through the mountains of dilapidated furniture, broken chairs, and rusted armor, heading straight for the tall cabinet covered by several rags.
The vanishing cabinet.
It stood quietly in the shadows, its black frame carved with intricate and twisted patterns, like a sleeping behemoth.
Julian waved his wand, and the rags slid off, kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Alright, old friend," Julian whispered softly, taking two bottles from the inside of his robes.
In his left hand was a crystal bottle containing a silver liquid—'Mercury Blood,' a spatial stabilizer he had refined using Alchemy last night with Blanche's assistance.
In his right hand was a small bottle containing a pale yellow, viscous liquid—the 'Newborn Dragon Amniotic Fluid' collected just as Norbert hatched.
As apex predators among magical creatures, dragons' bodily fluids contained immense vitality and magical activity, especially the amniotic fluid at birth, which was filled with the conceptual power of 'birth' and 'breakthrough.'
This was exactly the 'catalyst' desperately needed to repair the broken spatial circuits of the vanishing cabinet.
"I hope you don't explode."
Julian took a deep breath, his wand tracing a complex alchemical array in the air.
"Misce et Coalesce (Mix and Coalesce)."
He poured both bottles of liquid simultaneously into a golden cup suspended in mid-air.
"Sizzle—!!!"
A violent reaction occurred instantly.
The moment the silver mercury touched the yellow amniotic fluid, a piercing hiss erupted, as if countless tiny dragons were screaming.
A cloud of dark red smoke rose from the cup, carrying a strong scent of sulfur and rust.
The color of the liquid began to change wildly, from silver to blood-red, finally stabilizing into a deep, pitch-black hue that seemed to absorb light, with occasional flashes of golden electric arcs on the surface.
This was the 'Void Repair Fluid.'
Julian didn't dare to delay; this mixture was extremely unstable and had to be used within three minutes.
Using his wand, he picked up a glob of the black liquid and carefully applied it to the broken runes on the inner walls of the vanishing cabinet.
"Reparo Spatium (Spatial Repair)."
As he chanted the incantation, the black liquid seemed to come alive, winding and flowing along the grooves of the runes.
Every time it passed a break point, a low hum would sound, and the previously dim runes would instantly light up with a faint green glow.
When the last drop of liquid was absorbed by the runes, the entire vanishing cabinet shuddered violently.
"Thump—"
A dull, heavy sound came from inside the cabinet, as if some giant heart had begun to beat again.
A cold wind blew out from the gaps in the cabinet door, making Julian's robes flutter loudly.
The surrounding air began to warp, the light around the cabinet grew blurred, and a heart-palpitating spatial fluctuation rippled outward.
It was a success.
Julian wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, the fanaticism in his eyes impossible to hide.
But he still needed verification.
He pulled a Galleon from his pocket.
With a slight movement of his fingertips, a thin stream of fire shot from the tip of his wand, carving an extremely tiny pattern of a rose entwined with thorns onto the surface of the gold coin—the Rosier family crest.
And on the back, he carved a simple word: Open.
He pulled open the cabinet door.
Inside the cabinet was a bottomless darkness, as if it connected to the ends of the universe. It wasn't a physical darkness, but a spatial rift.
Julian threw the gold coin inside and then slammed the cabinet door shut.
"One... two... three..."
He counted silently in his head.
Every second felt incredibly long.
A minute passed.
The cabinet remained still.
Julian's brow furrowed slightly. Had it failed? Or was the cabinet on the other side blocked?
Just as he was about to open the cabinet door again to check—
"Ding."
A crisp sound of metal hitting wood came from within the cabinet.
Julian's heart skipped a beat.
He yanked the cabinet door open.
The Galleon was gone.
In its place, a black business card emitting a faint musty smell lay quietly at the bottom of the cabinet.
On the card, copperplate script was written in silver ink:
"Borgin and Burkes magic Shop — Buying and selling all kinds of rare, ancient, and'special' magical items. We look forward to your visit, honored guest."
And on the back of the card, there was a line of scrawled handwriting, clearly just written:
"Whoever you are, the passage is very unstable; that gold coin just now almost killed my cat. But I like the smell of gold coins. — B."
Julian smiled.
It was a smile from the heart, filled with ambition and a desire for control.
The passage was open.
From now on, Hogwarts' seemingly impregnable defensive barriers were a joke to him.
He could bring in contraband as he pleased and ship out the secrets from here.
Even... if the need ever arose, he could deliver an army of Death Eaters directly under Dumbledore's nose.
Of course, that was just a joke; after all, he had no fondness for that group of Death Eaters.
For now, this passage meant a steady stream of wealth and resources.
Julian picked up the business card, his fingertips tracing the rough texture as if stroking a lover's skin.
"Borgin... greed is a good thing."
He muttered to himself, tucking the card into an inner pocket.
Just then, a wave of intense weakness hit him again.
The high-intensity Alchemy and spatial magic operations just now, though shielded by his family ring, had still consumed a large amount of his magic.
"Time to go back."
Julian adjusted his robes, and after confirming no traces were left behind, he turned and left the Room of Requirement.
Chapter 50: Daphne's Trust
It was already evening by the time he returned to the Slytherin common room.
The common room was bustling with noise; most students had just returned from classes and were gathered in small groups, chatting.
Julian's appearance caused the noisy common room to quiet down instantly.
Although he looked a bit tired, that cold aura emanating from his very bones, along with the various "legends" about him circulating through the school recently, caused his status within Slytherin to skyrocket.
"Julian!"
Daphne Greengrass was sitting on the sofa by the fireplace; seeing him enter, her eyes lit up, and she immediately stood up.
Today, she wore a dark green silk gown that complemented her snow-white skin, her long blonde hair draped softly over her shoulders.
"Where have you been? I didn't see you all afternoon," Daphne walked up to him, her tone carrying a well-judged hint of complaint and concern. "Pansy said you weren't feeling well?"
"I was handling some... private matters." Julian looked at the beautiful pure-blood girl before him, the mental gears turning once more.
Since the black market channel had been established, the operation of funds required an agent.
Although Blanche was a good choice, she was too uncontrollable and was an "outsider."
The Greengrass Family, as one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, although maintaining political neutrality, possessed deep roots in commerce and the Potion trade.
"Daphne." Julian's voice was low and magnetic as he took a step forward, closing the distance between them slightly. "I'd like to ask you for a favor. Or rather... to discuss a business deal."
"Business?" Daphne paused, then a flash of excitement crossed her eyes. In Slytherin, discussing business often meant a further binding of relationships. "What kind of business?"
"Regarding... some rare materials that can't be bought on the market." Julian lowered his voice, leaning close to her ear, his warm breath causing the tips of Daphne's ears to turn bright red instantly. "For instance, Dragon by-products."
Daphne's pupils constricted sharply.
Dragon?
Those were contraband strictly regulated by the Ministry of Magic.
But looking into Julian's eyes, deep as an abyss, she felt not fear, but an indescribable thrill and... a stirring of her heart.
"Are you serious?" she asked in a trembling voice.
"I never joke." Julian pulled a small black fragment from his pocket—a piece of Norbert's eggshell—and pressed it into Daphne's palm.
The fragment still held a lingering, startling heat and magical fluctuations.
"This is a sample."
The lighting in the Slytherin common room was always dim and ambiguous.
Green lampshades filtered the warmth of the candlelight, soaking the entire space in a quiet hue reminiscent of the deep sea.
The flames in the fireplace licked at the dry wood, making a crackling sound, but this noise was quickly swallowed by the low conversations around them.
Julian took Daphne's hand and did not let go.
Julian led her past several carved armchairs occupied by upperclassmen to a semi-circular alcove at the deepest part of the common room.
This spot was near the windows at the bottom of the Black Lake; shadows of giant creatures occasionally glided through the pitch-black water outside, adding a sense of isolated privacy to this corner.
"Sit."
Julian's voice was soft, yet it carried an unquestionable power of guidance.
Daphne obediently sat on the dark green velvet sofa, her heart racing. The black fragment in her palm still radiated a scorching heat, like a branding iron, leaving her somewhat flustered yet reluctant to let go.
Julian sat down beside her, the distance between them dangerously close. The hem of his robes brushed against her calf, sending a tingle of electric current through her.
"Look at it, Daphne." Julian turned toward her, his eyes glinting in the dim light like a feline luring its prey. "Tell me, as a Greengrass, what do you see?"
Daphne took a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing which had been ruffled by their close proximity. She held up the fragment, examining it closely in the faint reflection of the fireplace.
The edges of the fragment were as sharp as a knife, its surface covered in a fine, obsidian-like scaly texture.
Even separated from its source, it still vibrated slightly, as if it contained some kind of violent life force.
"This is... an eggshell." Daphne's voice trembled slightly, but was soon replaced by a professional astonishment.
"And not just any eggshell. This heat, these magical residues... this is a Dragon eggshell. Looking at the patterns, it should be a Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon?"
Daphne looked up sharply, her beautiful blue eyes filled with shock and disbelief. "Merlin's beard... Julian, are you mad? This is a Class A restricted material by the Ministry of Magic! Private possession of Dragon egg fragments—if caught by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, you'd spend at least half a year in Azkaban!"
"Shh—"
Julian extended a long finger, gently pressing it against her lips.
The soft touch silenced Daphne instantly, her cheeks flushing red at a visible speed, the blush appearing particularly alluring under the green light.
"Wealth is found within danger, my dear." Julian leaned close to her ear, his warm breath fanning across her sensitive earlobe.
"The Greengrass Family operates the largest underground Potion ingredient network in all of Britain. I know you have ways to handle these 'troubles.' And... this is only the beginning."
Julian withdrew his finger and, following the motion, slid it down to gently grasp her hand holding the fragment, closing her fingers one by one around the scorching piece.
"I have a source—a stable, high-quality, unique source." Julian's voice was low and magnetic, like he was reciting some ancient incantation.
"And what you need to do is make them disappear within the Greengrass Family's accounts, then turn them into gleaming Galleons to return to my pocket."
"Of course," Julian paused, his lips curling into a charmingly wicked arc, "as the middleman, you can take thirty percent. I imagine this pocket money will be enough for you to buy an estate with a vineyard in France."
Daphne's heart pounded incessantly.
It wasn't just because of the massive profits behind this deal—though the Greengrass Family was wealthy, that was family money. What Julian was giving her was her own wealth, to use as she pleased.
More importantly, it was the feeling of sharing risks and keeping secrets together.
This was more thrilling than any flowers, jewelry, or sweet talk. It was the pleasure of being accomplices, a contract binding their fates together.
"Do you... do you really trust me?" Daphne bit her lower lip, looking at him with a dazed expression. "This is putting your weakness right into my hands."
"In this school, who else can I trust besides you?" Juliansighed softly, the "vulnerability" and "affection" in his eyes instantly piercing through all of Daphne's psychological defenses.
It was actually all lies.
He held leverage over Hagrid and Potter, and had Borgin's sales channel as a backup.
Choosing Daphne was purely to win over the Greengrass Family and, incidentally... to enjoy the pleasure of taming this proud young lady.
But Daphne didn't know that.
Chapter 51: Night Excursion
Daphne felt herself enveloped in a massive sense of happiness; in this cold Slytherin House, full of calculated interests, Julian had chosen her.
"I'll do it." Daphne gripped the fragment tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white from the force. "I'll arrange it. Father happens to have a shipment of goods heading to Albania recently; I can mix these in... no one will search a Greengrass Family cargo ship."
"Clever girl."
Julian smiled appreciatively, reaching out to gently stroke Daphne's long golden hair. His fingertips brushed through her strands, sending waves of tremors through her.
"I knew it, you are the most special."
Daphne felt like she was about to melt into that smile.
Subconsciously, she wanted to lean into his embrace, craving more—more touch, more warmth, perhaps even a kiss.
But Julian withdrew his hand at just the right moment.
This push-and-pull, this keeping her at arm's length, was the most lethal of poisons.
He stood up and smoothed his slightly wrinkled robes. The gentle smile on his face hadn't faded, but a hint of exhaustion appeared in his eyes, making him look even more heart-wrenchingly vulnerable.
"I'm a bit tired, Daphne." Julian rubbed his temples, his voice sounding slightly raspy. "Today's Potion Classdrained too much of my energy, along with those... 'negotiations' this afternoon."
The dazed look in Daphne's eyes instantly turned into concern. "Then go rest quickly! Do you need me to get you some Calming Draught? Or..."
"No need." Julian shook his head, then as if suddenly remembering something, he turned around and stared at her with burning eyes. "However, at midnight tonight, if you're free..."
"I am!" Daphne blurted out, before realizing she was being far too forward. She quickly lowered her head, blushing. "I mean... I happen to be going to the Astronomy Tower to observe the stars. You know, Professor Sinistra assigned homework."
"Then it's settled." The smile at the corner of Julian's mouth deepened. "The Astronomy Tower. I want to discuss the 'details' of this business with you... and some other matters."
Other matters.
Those two words were like a hook, snagging Daphne's very soul.
"Okay... I'll be there," she answered in a voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz.
Julian nodded with satisfaction and turned toward the boys' dormitory passage.
As he passed through the center of the common room, he felt two starkly different gazes.
One came from Pansy Parkinson. The short-haired girl sat on a sofa on the other side, savagely tearing at a lace handkerchief, her eyes darting venomously between Julian and Daphne. Jealousy twisted her otherwise decent-looking face.
The other came from Draco Malfoy in the corner.
Seeing Julian approach, Draco pulled his neck back like a startled rabbit, pretending to be engrossed in the book 'powerful potions' in his hands, though he was holding it upside down.
As Julian passed Draco, his footsteps paused slightly.
He didn't speak, but merely tapped lightly on the table in front of Draco.
"Tap, tap."
Two soft sounds.
Draco's whole body shuddered. He jerked his head up, only to see Julian's departing back—upright, elegant, and carrying a sense of pressure he found impossible to resist.
On the table, a parchment note had appeared.
With trembling hands, Draco opened the note. It contained only one line:
"Before Potion Class tomorrow evening, you will see what you want. — J."
Draco breathed a sigh of relief, followed by a surge of complex joy. Though he was being threatened, at least... he still had a connection with this powerful 'leader.'
...
Back in the dormitory.
Julian closed the door and set up a Silencing Charm and a Warning Charm.
He leaned against the door and let out a long breath. The elegance and gentleness on his face vanished instantly, replaced by deep fatigue and coldness.
"Truly... exhausting acting."
Walking to the bedside, he removed the Black Onyx Ringfrom his hand.
The moment the ring left his finger, a familiar headache struck again, though it was much lighter than before. It seemed this ring truly had the effect of nourishing mental energy.
He placed the ring on the nightstand and pulled Borgin's business card from his robes.
The card shimmered with an eerie silver light under the candlelight.
"The first step is complete."
Julian lay on the bed, staring at the top of the dark green bed curtains.
Capital chain (Daphne), logistics channel (vanishing cabinet), intelligence network (Blanche/Hermione), muscle (Draco/Theodore).
A spiderweb centered on him was quietly spreading through Hogwarts.
And that dragon...
Julian fished the small vial containing the dragon egg fragments and amniotic fluid from his pocket.
"Since Harry and Ron want to send the dragon away, I'll make sure they don't get their wish."
A sharp glint flashed in his eyes.
"A living Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon is worth far more than dead materials. If I could raise it in the Chamber of Secrets..."
The idea was insane, but very Slytherin.
But now was not the time.
The primary task now was tonight's meeting at the Astronomy Tower.
This wasn't just a date; it was the final confirmation of the choice piece of meat that was the Greengrass Family. He had to make Daphne fall completely—not just in body, but in soul.
Only the dual chains of emotion and interest could lock down a woman's loyalty.
Julian closed his eyes and began to rehearse tonight's script in his mind.
Midnight.
Draped in a black velvet robe, Julian moved like a wisp of smoke, traversing the winding corridors rapidly.
He didn't use Lumos. Under the sharp perception granted by the Black Onyx Ring, the darkness was not an obstacle but the best camouflage.
"Meow—"
A sharp cat's cry sounded from a corner not far away.
Julian's pupils constricted, and he instantly pressed his body behind a suit of armor holding a greatsword.
That was Madam Norris's voice.
Immediately after, a heavy, dragging footstep approached, accompanied by Filch's raspy, unpleasant muttering.
"Sniff them out, my sweet... those little brats who won't sleep must be running around again..."
Filch held up his dim oil lamp, the light casting distorted long shadows against the walls.
Julian held his breath, his fingers lightly stroking his wand. He had no intention of getting into a conflict with Filch here; that would be too low-class.
Just then, he spotted a round figure trembling behind a pillar at the end of the armored corridor.
It was Neville Longbottom.
The poor little lion had clearly forgotten the password to the Gryffindor common room again and was desperately trying to find a hiding place before being caught.
A cruel yet elegant arc curved on Julian's lips.
He waved his wand soundlessly.
"Somnium."
An extremely faint red light accurately struck the back of Neville's neck.
Neville didn't even have time to let out a gasp before he slumped to the ground, the Remembrall in his hand dropping onto the stone floor with a crisp clatter.
"Who's there?!" Filch, like a shark sensing blood, spun around and rushed toward Neville's direction.
Taking advantage of this gap, Julian, like a lithe cat, quickly swept past the corridor and slipped into the spiral staircase leading to the Astronomy Tower.
Chapter 52: The Loyal Believer
At the top of the Astronomy Tower, the cold wind was biting.
The starry sky here was clearer than anywhere else; the Milky Way stretched across the heavens like a brilliant ribbon of silk, and starlight spilled onto the cold stone bricks, coating them with a mercury-like texture.
Daphne Greengrass stood at the edge of the tower, her back to the entrance.
She had changed out of her usual rigorous school uniform, replacing it with a dark green silk nightgown, draped in a thick silver fox fur cloak.
The wind ruffled Daphne's long golden hair, a few stray strands playfully clinging to her fair cheeks.
Her shoulders trembled slightly, though whether from the cold or some long-anticipated nervousness was unclear.
Julian lightened his steps, silently approaching her from behind, reaching out to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her into his embrace.
"Ah!" Daphne gasped, her body momentarily stiffening, but upon smelling that familiar scent of faint wormwood and fir, she quickly softened.
"You startled me..." Daphne turned around, her hands pressed against Julian's chest, her tone carrying a hint of reproach, yet her eyes sparkled with a moving radiance under the starlight.
"I took a bit of time to avoid Filch." Julian lowered his head, his nose gently brushing against her forehead, his voice deep and magnetic. "I've kept you waiting, my partner."
"You... you really came," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly in the empty tower.
"I never keep a beautiful lady waiting in the cold wind, even if it's for 'business'." Julian smiled at Daphne.
Instead of immediately discussing the illicit Dragon eggs, he led Daphne to the railing, looking out toward the dark, brooding Forbidden Forest in the distance.
"It's beautiful, isn't it? Daphne, looking down from here, all of Hogwarts seems to be slumbering in a dream, and we... are the only two who are awake."
Daphne looked at him from the side. Julian's profile appeared deep in the moonlight; that sense of calm and control, which didn't belong to an eleven-year-old boy, filled her with an inexplicable sense of admiration.
"You always say things that are hard to understand, yet they seem so reasonable." Daphne pursed her lips, her hands tightly clutching the edge of her shawl.
"Regarding what we discussed this afternoon... I've already written home. I told my father that I've met a very promising friend at school who has unique channels to provide high-grade Potion materials."
"Oh? How did Mr. Greengrass respond?" Julian turned his head, looking directly into her eyes.
Daphne looked away awkwardly, staring at her toes. "He said... he trusts my judgment, but he requires confirmation of the goods' purity and the safety of the source before the first bulk transaction. He's a cautious man, Julian."
"Caution is the foundation upon which pure-blood families endure." Julian chuckled softly, suddenly reaching over the railing to grasp Daphne's hand, which was somewhat stiff from the cold.
Daphne shuddered, instinctively wanting to pull back, but Julian's hand was very warm. That warmth felt like a small electric current, quickly climbing up from her fingertips.
"Don't move." Julian's voice was as gentle as a whisper. "Your hands are too cold, Daphne. If I let you catch a cold, I would consider it my sin."
Taking advantage of the moment, he unfastened his cloak, stepped forward half a pace, and draped the large velvet cloak over Daphne's shoulders, enveloping her entirely in his scent.
It was a faint scent, a mix of ink, old scrolls, and a certain crisp, woody fragrance.
This sudden intimacy made Daphne's mind go blank instantly.
At this distance, she could clearly see the starlight reflected in Julian's pupils and the faint, almost imperceptible curve at the corner of his mouth.
They were only in their first year; such contact should have been purely platonic, but at this moment, the ambiguous atmosphere flowing in the air was so thick it nearly solidified.
"Julian..." Daphne's voice was barely audible. She felt her cheeks burning, her heart beating so fast it almost burst from her chest.
"Regarding business, we've finished talking." Julian's hand did not leave her shoulder; instead, he gently helped her tidy the strands of hair ruffled by the wind.
"Now, I want to talk about us, Daphne. In this school full of mudbloods, freaks, and old madmen, you are my only solace. Do you understand?"
Such a blunt, highly exclusive confession was devastating for a pure-blood girl who had grown up under strict family discipline.
Daphne looked up at him with a dazed expression; her desire for recognition and to be favored was immensely satisfied at this moment.
"Me too... Julian. In Slytherin, everyone is calculating against each other; even Pansy only thinks about how to curry favor with Malfoy. Only you... you make me feel like I'm special."
"Of course you are special."
Julian lowered his head slightly, their noses almost touching. He could feel Daphne's rapid breathing and her eyelashes trembling slightly from nervousness.
He was in no hurry to claim that kiss because he knew that for the current Daphne, this unresolved tension was more intoxicating than actual contact.
Julian simply pressed his forehead against hers, closed his eyes, and whispered, "Remember tonight's starry sky, Daphne. This is the beginning of our alliance. Not just for profit, but also... here."
He took Daphne's hand and pressed it against his chest.
Through the thin silk nightgown, Daphne felt that steady, powerful heartbeat.
"Okay..." She closed her eyes, and two lines of tears slid down unconsciously. They were tears of excitement and a sign of complete surrender.
At this moment, the eldest daughter of the Greengrass Family officially became the most loyal believer beneath Julian Rosier's throne.
...
"Alright, go back now." A few minutes later, Julianreleased her and helped her wrap the cloak tightly again, his eyes returning to that clear gentleness. "If we get caught by Filch, I won't be able to explain it to Mr. Greengrass."
"Then... this cloak?" Daphne was reluctant to let go of the warmth remaining in her arms.
"Keep it." Julian winked with a playful smile. "Consider it a token of our alliance."
Daphne nodded with a flushed face, like a little girl who had stolen a candy, and hurried down the stairs clutching the cloak.
Watching her figure disappear into the darkness, the gentleness on Julian's face vanished instantly.
He turned back to the starry sky, his gaze as cold as ice.
"The first one," he whispered to himself.
The Greengrass Family's channels were secure, and Daphne's emotional dependence was solidified. Next, he needed to handle that trickier "project"—Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets.
If Hermione's information was correct, it was time for him to visit the girls' lavatory where Moaning Myrtle resided.
After all, he had already learned Parseltongue from the diadem; there was no need to wait until Ginny got the diary in their second year to enter.
But before that...