Chapter 63: Acquiring a Dragon
Hagrid's hut.
Thick black smoke was billowing from the chimney, and a thick layer of steam covered the windows.
Before even getting close, one could hear muffled thumping sounds and Hagrid's anxious shouting from inside.
"Norbert! Don't bite that! That's my teapot!"
"Oh, heavens... don't breathe fire! That's Fang's tail!"
Julian stood at the door, not in a hurry to knock.
He turned his head and made a shushing gesture to Daphne, then pulled out his wand and pointed it at his own throat.
"Sonorus."
In the next second, he shouted in a stern, rigid, and highly piercing voice that imitated Professor McGonagall:
"Hagrid! Are you in there? Professor Dumbledore sent me to ask about that tree..."
The sounds inside the house instantly vanished.
This was followed by a flurry of chaotic noises, sounding like someone had fallen, along with the sound of heavy objects hitting the floor.
After a long while, the door was finally opened a crack.
Hagrid's large, flushed face appeared behind the crack in the door, his eyes frantic, and he was hiding a smoking rag in his hand.
"Oh... it's you, Rosier." Seeing it was Julian, Hagrid clearly breathed a sigh of relief, but then became wary again, "What did you just say? Professor Dumbledore?"
"Just a joke, Hagrid." Julian cancelled the magic, returning to his originally elegant and lazy voice, and said with a smile, "I saw you dragging a tree past the lake and decided to stop by... how is your little trouble doing?"
Hagrid's face instantly turned pale.
"Shh! Shh!" Hagrid waved his large hands in panic, "Keep it down! Don't let anyone hear!"
He looked left and right to confirm no one else was around. Daphne was hiding behind Julian, peeking out curiously. Only then did he reluctantly open the door.
"Quick, get in! Don't let the cold air in... it's sensitive to the cold."
The inside of the hut was as hot as a steamer.
The fire in the fireplace was burning intensely, and the whole room was filled with the smell of scorched items and raw meat.
On the rug in front of the fireplace, a small dragon with spiny wings and a pitch-black body lay there, chewing on a tin bucket, making crunching sounds.
It was a size larger than when Julian had last seen it; its current size was already like that of a large hound.
Seeing strangers enter, Norbert immediately stopped chewing.
Its orange-red vertical pupils stared intently at Julian, a threatening growl coming from its throat, and two sparks snorted from its nostrils.
"Oh, there's a good boy, don't be afraid..." Hagrid tried to soothe it.
But Norbert clearly wasn't buying it.
It suddenly flared its wings; although it couldn't fly yet, it was quite imposing. It opened its mouth and prepared to blast a plume of fire at Julian.
"Watch out!" Daphne screamed, instinctively trying to pull Julian away.
But Julian didn't budge.
He just looked at the dragon quietly, his gaze becoming cold and deep in an instant.
He didn't use his wand; instead, he slightly opened his mouth and let out an extremely short, sharp hiss.
Julian had just recently established a connection with the thousand-year-old Basilisk, and he currently carried the aura of the 'King of Serpents' from the Basilisk.
Faced with this pressure, Norbert's movements instantly froze.
The fierce light in its eyes vanished instantly, replaced by an instinctive confusion and fear.
It whimpered, tucked its wings, and retreated behind Hagrid with its tail between its legs, like a wronged puppy.
Hagrid watched all this dumbfounded, the rag in his hand falling to the floor.
"You... what did you do to it?"
"Nothing, Hagrid." Julian turned around and clapped his hands with a smile, "Just telling it who's the boss here."
He walked to the table, his fingers lightly tapping the surface, the sound echoing clearly in the silent hut.
"Now, let's talk business."
Julian looked at Hagrid, who was still in shock, and his tone became serious.
"The Christmas holidays are here. Although there are fewer people in the Castle, the Professors' patrols will be more frequent. Especially Professor Snape... do you think this hut full of dragon scent can hide from his nose?"
Hagrid shuddered.
"Then... what should I do?"
"Relocate it." Julian uttered two words, "It must be sent away before this holiday ends."
"But Charlie... Ron said Charlie is still in Romania..." Hagrid stammered.
"I don't care what the Weasley family has planned." Julian interrupted him, "I have my own channels. I have a way to safely send it out of Hogwarts without going through the Ministry of Magic's inspection."
He pulled an exquisite necklace with an Undetectable Extension Charm from his pocket—this was a magical item he had requested from his father, the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.
Although it wasn't as good as Newt Scamander's, it was more than enough to hold a young dragon.
"Put it in here, and leave the rest to me."
"But..." Hagrid looked at Norbert, his eyes full of reluctance.
"No 'buts', Hagrid." Julian's voice turned cold, "Either give it to me, or wait to be discovered by the Ministry of Magic, have it sent to be executed, and you sent to Azkaban."
This was a naked threat, but also the only salvation.
Hagrid fell silent.
He looked at Norbert huddled in the corner, then at the confident Julian, and finally lowered his head dejectedly.
"Alright... but you must promise you'll treat it well."
"Of course." Julian gave a winner's smile, "I will find it a... very valuable destination."
Like becoming my private alchemical material store and a deterrent weapon.
Of course, he didn't say that out loud.
As they walked out of Hagrid's hut, the wind and snow seemed to have lessened slightly.
Daphne clung tightly to Julian's arm, her eyes full of admiration.
"You were... so cool just now," she whispered, "even the dragon is afraid of you."
"It just knows what's good for it." Julian chuckled, feeling the necklace around his neck—Norbert had already been put inside.
"Let's go, back to the Castle."
"Where are we going?"
"The Room of Requirement." Julian looked at the Castletowers in the distance, "That's the safest place. And... I think it's time you saw my other secret base."
Chapter 64: Modifying the Pet Space
The corridor on the Eighth Floor of the Castle was eerily quiet, with only the sound of the wind and snow howling outside the window.
Julian held Daphne's hand, his pace steady yet swift. The warmth transmitted through his glove caused Daphne's body, initially stiff from the cold and tension, to gradually relax.
"This is the place."
The two stopped in front of the tapestry depicting the Troll clubbing Barnabas the Barmy.
"This is just a wall, Julian." Daphne breathed slightly, her blue eyes holding a hint of doubt, but more so expectation.
"Watch, Daphne. Hogwarts is full of secrets, and this... is one of them."
Julian let go of her hand, closed his eyes, and walked back and forth three times in front of the wall.
He thought to himself: I need a place to hide all illegal things.
As he finished the third pass, a huge black oak door, carved with intricate patterns, silently emerged on the previously bare stone wall.
The door handle was a coiled brass snake, its eyes shimmering with a faint green light.
Daphne gasped, instinctively grabbing Julian's sleeve.
"Welcome to my hall."
Julian pushed open the door and made an inviting gesture.
The space behind the door was breathtakingly large.
This was no longer the junk-filled dump it had been before; under Julian's strong will, it had been reshaped into an underground palace filled with Gothic beauty and an air of danger.
Although contraband hidden by generations of students still piled up around the edges, a massive open space had been cleared in the center of the room.
There, the black vanishing cabinet stood tall, radiating an ominous aura. On a black velvet stand next to the cabinet lay that ancient yet still brilliantly wise diadem—rowena ravenclaws diadem.
"This is..." Daphne stepped into the room and looked around, her voice echoing in the vast hall.
"The Room of Requirement." Julian closed the door behind them, sealing off the outside world. "As long as you truly desire it, it will become whatever you want. Of course, for most fools, this is just a place to hide chamber pots."
He walked to a large workbench and took off the Magic Necklace containing Norbert.
"Now, let's give this irritable little guest a home."
Julian took out several dark red stones with porous surfaces from a wooden crate—cargo just delivered from Borgin and Burkes this morning—beside the vanishing cabinet.
"Fossilized Ashwinder egg shells, and obsidian from Mount Etna," Julian explained to Daphne, his tone as if he were introducing a dinner menu.
"These things are in high demand in Knockturn Alley; they cost me quite a few Galleons."
He threw the stones into the entrance of the necklace's magic space, then drew his wand and chanted a long, complex string of incantations at the necklace.
"Ignis Furore... Terra Formare..."
As the spell concluded, the gem on the necklace erupted in a brilliant red light.
Julian didn't stop; he took Daphne's hand and pressed the tip of his wand against the surface of the necklace's gem.
"Come on, let's go in."
A vortex suddenly appeared, enveloping the two of them, and Daphne saw the scene inside the necklace's space.
What was originally just an ordinary expanded space was now undergoing a dramatic transformation. The ground rose up, turning into charred rock.
The air inside distorted as the temperature rose sharply; the magical ores thrown in began to release waves of heat under the catalyst of the spells, even forming a small, bubbling lava pond in the corner.
"Is this... a high-level application of Alchemy?" Daphnemurmured, watching the red firelight, her voice tinged with surprise.
"Not just Alchemy, but Space Magic as well." Julianwithdrew his wand, a thin layer of sweat appearing on his forehead, but his eyes were strikingly bright. "Alright, I think he'll like this new home."
He gently shook the necklace.
"Roar—!"
Accompanied by a young but fierce roar, a black shadow rushed out from a corner of the necklace, landing on the ground and rapidly growing in size.
Norbert.
The Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon was clearly irritated by the earlier jostling; it spread its spiked wings, ready to breathe fire at Julian.
But in the next second, it felt the familiar and comfortable high temperature around it, as well as the smell of sulfur in the air.
It froze, turned its head in confusion, and then happily lunged toward the miniature lava pond, burying its head in it like a duck and making contented gurgling sounds.
"See, he's satisfied." Julian chuckled, pulling a bucket of Brandy Mixed with Chicken Blood from his pocket—the "baby food" Hagrid had given him—and poured it into a stone trough beside the lava pond.
Daphne watched the dragon eating happily, then looked at the composed young man beside her, her shock beyond measure.
At this age, other boys were still arguing over a Chocolate Frog Card, but Julian... he already had a dragon, a secret base, and had even mastered such profound magic.
"What exactly do you want to do, Julian?"
Emerging from the pet space, Daphne finally asked the question she had been hiding in her heart. She turned and looked him straight in the eye. "This isn't just for fun, is it? The vanishing cabinet, the dragon, and this..."
Her finger pointed to the diadem on the shelf.
"That diadem... I think I've seen an illustration of it in Hogwarts: A History. Is that the lost Ravenclaw's diadem?"
The smile on Julian's lips deepened. He didn't answer but walked slowly toward the vanishing cabinet, his fingers gently tracing the cold patterns on the door.
"You're very smart, Daphne. That's why I chose you."
He turned around, leaning against the vanishing cabinet. The shadows behind him seemed ready to swallow him, yet also appeared to be under his command.
"Hogwarts... is too small."
His voice was low, possessing a captivating magnetic quality.
"The games of playing house here bore me. That old fool Dumbledore thinks he can reform everything with love, but he has no idea that darkness is approaching."
Julian walked to the diadem and picked up the ornament, which looked somewhat eerie at this moment.
"This is indeed rowena ravenclaws diadem. It represents wisdom, but even more so, it represents power. And on the other end of that cabinet, it connects to the largest Dark Arts shop in Knockturn Alley. I have already established an Underground Trade Network sufficient to bypass the Ministry of Magic's supervision."
Julian walked toward Daphne step by step until he forced her back against a table piled with gold items.
"I have money, I have power, I have the key to forbidden knowledge, and now... I even have a dragon."
Julian braced his hands on either side of Daphne, circling her within his territory. His face was only a few centimeters from hers, their breaths intertwining.
"But I am still missing one thing."
"Wh... what?" Daphne felt like her heart was about to jump out of her chest.
"Someone to share all of this with."
Julian's finger gently slid across her cheek and rested on her chin, forcing her to look up.
"I don't want a little girl who just screams behind me, nor do I want a pure-blood vase who only relies on family glory. I need a strong support, a queen."
Julian's eyes were fiery and arrogant, as if they were burning.
"Daphne Greengrass, you have the ambition of a Slytherin and the shrewdness of the Greengrass Family, but what I can give you is far more than what your father can."
"I can take you to see the most real, the most cruel, and the most fascinating side of this world. We can stand at the pinnacle of power and look down upon those mediocre ants."
"But this comes with a price."
Julian's voice suddenly became cold and serious.
"Absolute loyalty. Absolute obedience. And... the courage to jump even when facing hell."
"Tell me, do you dare?"
Chapter 65: Ally +1
Daphne looked at Julian.
At this moment, Julian was no longer just a peer in her eyes, but a monarch exuding a fatal charisma.
Fear? Yes, she felt fear. But the tremor that came with that fear made her blood boil.
This was a thrill she could never experience at those tedious pure-blood banquets.
This was what Daphne's soul had always craved—no longer being a bargaining chip for marriage, but becoming a controller, embracing true power.
"Do I have a choice?" Daphne suddenly smiled, a charming and dangerous smile carrying the unique arrogance of a Slytherin.
She reached out her arms, proactively wrapping them around Julian's neck and pressing her body tightly against his.
"If I don't agree, will you let that dragon eat me?"
"Perhaps," Julian raised an eyebrow, "or I'll erase your memory and let you go back to being that carefree young lady."
"No." Daphne refused flatly, her gaze becoming exceptionally firm. "I don't want to be an ignorant young lady. I want to be your queen."
With that, Daphne stood on her tiptoes, leaned into Julian's ear, and said in a near-whisper:
"My soul, my loyalty, even my family... if you want them, take them all. As long as you can take me... flying higher."
"Deal."
Julian gave a low chuckle, suddenly gripped the back of her head, and kissed her.
This kiss was no longer as pure as the one by the lake.
It was filled with possessiveness, ambition, and a force that felt as if it would crush the other person.
The surrounding air seemed to be ignited; in the pet space, Norbert's roars from the magma pool became their perfect accompaniment.
Under the dim light of the Room of Requirement, witnessed by a dragon and the Dark Arts, a contract of power and desire was officially forged.
After a long time, their lips parted.
Daphne slumped into Julian's arms, her eyes hazy and her lips swollen; she looked as if her strength had been drained, yet she radiated an unprecedented glow.
"So, my King..." Daphne panted, her finger tracing the buttons on Julian's chest, "what do we do next? Rule the world?"
"No rush." Julian gently stroked her long hair, looking at the dozing Norbert nearby with a glint in his eyes. "Ruling the world is too tiring. Let's start by... ruling this Castle."
"But before that," his tone shifted, a mischievous grin curling his lips, "since we already have such a perfect secret base, perhaps we could do something... more fitting for our status as 'accomplices'?"
He pointed to a nearby bench that looked very comfortable, covered in velvet cushions.
Daphne's face instantly turned bright red, but she didn't back down. Instead, she bit her lip and looked at him with a provocative gaze.
"If you dare, Mr. Rosier."
... (Those with dirty minds, go stand in the corner.)
They didn't actually do anything out of line; besides... there were many pairs of eyes watching (like certain great authors).
In this secluded room during the afternoon, Julian showed Daphne more.
Julian taught her how to identify the fluctuations of Dark Arts items, how to use the vanishing cabinet to transmit information, and even let her try to use mental power to soothe the young dragon.
When Daphne's hand trembled for the first time as she successfully stopped Norbert from breathing fire at her and was allowed to touch those hard scales, the light in her eyes was more brilliant than any gem.
That was the taste of power.
Once tasted, it could never be given up.
It wasn't until dinner time approached and both their stomachs protested that they reluctantly left the Room of Requirement.
Before leaving, Julian reapplied layers of restrictions to the room.
The moment they stepped out, Daphne looked back at the wall that had returned to its original state, took a deep breath, and her expression reverted to that of the arrogant and cold Slytherin flower.
But Julian knew that some things had completely changed.
"Let's go, to the Great Hall."
Julian helped her straighten her slightly messy collar. "I think we'll have a great appetite for the Christmas feast tonight."
"Of course." Daphne took his arm and tilted her chin up. "After all, we just fed a dragon."
The two smiled at each other and walked toward the stairs side by side.
...
On Christmas Eve 1991, Hogwarts was completely locked down by a near-frenzied blizzard.
The Castle's spires shrieked in the cold wind, and the twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were hung with magical candles that never went out.
Julian was sitting in the large high-backed chair in the Slytherin Common Room, the green fire in the fireplace flickering and reflecting on the yellowed parchment in his hand.
It was "Soul Mapping and Mirror Interference," which he had obtained from Borgin and Burkes through the vanishing cabinet.
Daphne was curled up on the sofa beside him, her head resting on his lap, already fast asleep.
Her fair face still held a trace of youthful blush, or perhaps it was from the cold.
Julian's slender fingers gently toyed with Daphne's hair, but his gaze pierced through the stone walls of the common room toward the distant Gryffindor Tower.
"Calculating the time, Harry should have already received that 'Christmas gift' that is enough to change his fate."
Julian whispered to himself, his lips curling into a faint arc.
Dumbledore had, after all, returned the Potter family heirloom to Harry.
That invisibility cloak was a divine tool for stealth in the eyes of others, but in Julian's eyes, it was an admission ticket to the most vulnerable part of Harry Potter's inner defenses.
He gently patted Daphne's shoulder.
"Hmm... Julian?" Daphne rubbed her eyes and sat up, her voice carrying a hint of sleepiness and sweetness. "Where are you going?"
"To witness a 'miracle', dear." Julian stood up and picked up the black cloak resting nearby. "You stay here. If the prefect checks the dorms, you know what to do."
"I want to go too." Daphne grabbed the corner of his clothes, her eyes clearing significantly, carrying an instinctive urge to follow Julian's actions.
"No, tonight's scene only needs two protagonists." Julianleaned down and gave her a light kiss on the forehead.
Chapter 66: Seducing Harry
One o'clock in the morning on Christmas.
The Castle corridors were unnaturally cold. Julian did not use the Disillusionment Charm, instead relying on his familiarity with the Castle's layout to avoid Filch's mechanical patrol routes.
The Black Onyx Ring on his person, enhanced by Alchemy, emitted a faint warmth that neutralized the surrounding chill.
He came to a stop before a disused classroom on the fourth floor.
He pushed open the door, and dust danced in the moonlight.
In the center of the room, the enormous mirror with clawed golden feet stood silently, its top inscribed with the famous reversed inscription: Erised stra pruait oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
The mirror of erised.
Julian walked up to the mirror but did not look at its reflection. Instead, he pulled a vial of pale purple potion from his pocket — 'Mist-Scent'.
This allowed him to capture even the most subtle magical residue in the air, especially the ancient and unique magical fluctuations of an invisibility cloak.
He sat down in the shadows opposite the mirror, like a patient hunter.
Approximately twenty minutes passed.
From outside the door came an extremely faint sound, like fabric scraping against stone.
Immediately after, the door was pushed open a crack.
Though nothing was visible to the naked eye, in Julian's vision, aided by magical perception, a distorted, unnatural mass of air was slowly moving into the room.
Harry Potter.
Sitting in the shadows, Julian watched the mass of air move hurriedly towards the mirror.
Then, a suppressed, tearful sob echoed through the empty classroom.
Harry had taken off the invisibility cloak and collapsed before the mirror, his trembling hands stroking the cold glass surface.
"Dad... Mum..."
Harry's voice was as faint as a mosquito's hum, yet filled with heartbreaking despair and longing.
In the mirror, he saw the parents he had never met, saw the warm home he had always dreamed of.
Julian watched all this coldly from the shadows.
This was the chosen one.
The focal point in the game between the world's most powerful White Wizard and its most evil Dark Wizardwas, at this moment, merely an orphan crying for his parents.
This fragility was... perfect.
Julian slowly stood up, deliberately allowing his leather boot to make a crisp sound on the stone floor.
"Who's there?!"
Harry jumped up like a startled rabbit, scrambling to grab the invisibility cloak on the floor.
"Don't be nervous, Harry. On Christmas morning, everyone has a right to a little secret of their own, don't you think?"
Julian stepped out from the shadows. Moonlight fell on his silver-and-green tie, reflecting a cold light.
"R... Rosier?" Harry recognized the newcomer. His tense body relaxed slightly, but he remained full of wariness. "What are you doing here?"
"The same as you, Harry. Drawn by something ineffable."
Julian walked over to Harry. He did not look at the mirror but instead gazed up at the relief carvings on the ceiling.
"I've heard that when people are extremely lonely, they hear the Castle whispering. It guides you to the place you most want to be."
Harry clutched the invisibility cloak awkwardly, his eyes involuntarily drifting towards the mirror.
"Did you... see it too?"
"See what? See your relatives who died too young? Or see your cursed fate?"
Julian turned his head and looked directly into Harry's eyes.
Harry was stunned. He hadn't expected Julian to be so direct.
"This mirror is called the mirror of erised, Harry. It shows neither truth nor the future. It shows our deepest, most urgent, yet often most unattainable desires."
Julian walked in front of the mirror and stood beside Harry.
Harry instinctively looked into the mirror. To his surprise, besides his parents, Julian's figure now appeared in the reflection.
In that mirrored world, Julian was patting Harry's shoulder, and his parents were smiling and nodding at Julian, as if Julian were a junior they trusted most.
This was a small trick Julian had played, using his powerful mental strength and understanding of the mirror's mechanics to slightly interfere with the reflection.
Of course, such a petty trick could only be used on Harry. If used on Dumbledore or Grindelwald—especially the latter—he would undoubtedly be minced into pieces.
Julian wanted Harry to subconsciously believe that Julian Rosier was an entity on the same level as his parents, someone worthy of entrusting one's soul to.
"You... what did you see, Julian?" Harry asked, his voice trembling.
"Me?"
Julian let out a light laugh, a laugh tinged with a weariness and bitterness that did not belong to an eleven-year-old boy.
"I see myself standing atop ruins, holding a scepter that can rewrite life and death. I see those who once betrayed and humiliated me kneeling at my feet. I see this world rearranging itself according to my will..."
Julian turned his head. His gaze became extremely gentle, yet carried a suffocating sense of pressure.
"But I also see you standing by my side, Harry. We are no longer pawns manipulated by fate. We are the ones who make the rules."
Harry was so shocked by these words he couldn't speak.
He had never heard anyone combine ambition and loneliness so perfectly.
"But... it's just an illusion, isn't it?" Harry looked down at his toes. "Professor Dumbledore said it's dangerous to dwell in dreams and forget to live."
"Dumbledore?" Julian snorted disdainfully. "That old man sitting in his high tower looking down on everyone. He has everything, so of course he can advise you to let go. But did he tell you *why* he has everything?"
"Because he is powerful enough, Harry. Powerful enough to define what is 'reality' and what is 'illusion'."
Julian suddenly reached out and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.
Harry felt a cold but incredibly steady force spread throughout his body from Julian's palm.
"He gave you this cloak to teach you to hide. He let you see this mirror to teach you restraint. He's molding you into a perfect, obedient... pawn."
"No! The Professor is protecting me!" Harry retorted, but his voice lacked conviction.
"Protecting you?" Julian leaned close to Harry's ear, his voice so low only the two of them could hear. "Then why didn't he tell you who Nicolas Flamel is? Why didn't he tell you what the Cerberus in the fourth-floor corridor is guarding?"
Harry's pupils contracted sharply.
"He lets you linger on the edge of danger but gives you no weapon. He lets you suffer in longing but offers no cure."
Julian released his hand, took a step back, and spread his arms as if to embrace the entire night.
"But I, Harry, I can give you a weapon. I can give you the cure. I don't need you trembling under an invisibility cloak. I want you to stand straight and walk into the sunlight."
"You... what do you really want?" Harry looked at Julian, his eyes holding both fear and a kind of ignited desire.
"I want an ally, Harry. A true ally, one who understands the weight of 'loss' and is willing to pay the price for it."
Julian pulled a small silver coin engraved with the Rosier Family crest from his robe and handed it to Harry.
"Take it. When the day comes that you realize the justice you trust is just another form of hypocrisy, come find me."
Harry hesitated for a moment, but finally reached out and took the cold silver coin.
"Well then, Chosen One. Merry Christmas."
Chapter 67: Nicolas Flamel
Julian turned around, his black cloak cutting an elegant arc in the air.
"Remember to put on your clothes; the wind is strong outside. Don't let those who care about you... find you crying here."
Julian's figure disappeared at the doorway.
Deathly silence fell over the classroom once more, leaving only Harry standing blankly before the magic mirror, the silver coin clutched tightly in his hand.
He looked at the mirror again.
In the mirror, his parents were still smiling, but the Julianstanding beside him was now nodding slightly toward him, his eyes filled with a certain... sense of destiny.
Back at the Slytherin Common Room.
The green flames had already died out, leaving only some dark red embers.
Daphne still maintained her previous posture, though her breathing had become somewhat rapid—clearly, she was feigning sleep.
Julian walked over, sat down again, and gently moved her head back onto his lap.
"Is everything settled?" Daphne opened her eyes, a mischievous light flickering in her azure gaze.
"No, it's only just begun." Julian stroked her cheek. "I've already planted a seed of doubt in his heart. As long as that mirror is there, this seed will continuously absorb his longing, eventually growing into a towering tree."
"Do you really think he will betray Dumbledore?" Daphneasked with some curiosity.
"Why betray? I only need him to no longer trust completely." Julian looked at the dawn light gradually brightening outside the window. "When a child begins to doubt his god, the scepter of that god has already cracked."
Julian closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of Daphne's body.
This Christmas, he had obtained something more important than dragons or the diadem.
He had gained an opportunity to toy with fate.
"Sleep, Daphne. Tomorrow morning, we still have to go to the Great Hall to deliver a'sincere' Christmas blessing to our the chosen one."
...
Christmas morning.
The Great Hall was filled with the aroma of turkey, sausages, and various desserts.
Julian and Daphne sat side by side at the Slytherin table, elegantly slicing the smoked fish on their plates.
Not far away at the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron were excitedly unwrapping gifts.
Harry looked no different than usual, but when his gaze met Julian's in the air, he subconsciously looked away, his hand instinctively reaching toward his pocket.
Julian knew the silver coin was right there.
"Look, he received a gift from Hagrid." Daphne lowered her voice, pointing at the crude wooden flute in Harry's hand. "It truly has a cheapness that suits his status."
"Don't say that, Daphne; that's a symbol of love." Julianchuckled softly, picking up his teacup and giving a slight nod in Harry's direction.
Harry was taken aback for a moment, then somewhat stiffly returned the gesture.
Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps came from the entrance of the Great Hall.
It was Hermione Granger.
Her hair was bushy, and she was clutching a terrifyingly thick book. Her face was pale, and her eyes held a mix of horror and excitement after discovering a shocking secret.
She rushed straight toward Harry and Ron.
"Harry! Ron! I found it! I finally found it!"
Although her voice was kept very low, it was still clearly audible in the quiet morning.
"Nicolas Flamel! I know who he is now!"
Hermione's voice trembled slightly with overexcitement as she slammed the heavy Alchemy, Ancient and Modernonto the long table, causing the pumpkin juice in front of Harry to splash out.
"Nicolas Flamel! Also known as Nicolas Flamel, he is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"
"Philosopher's Stone?" Ron asked indistinctly, his mouth still stuffed with half a sausage. "What's that? Some kind of new candy?"
"Oh, Ron! Can't you read more books!" Hermione rolled her eyes, preparing to launch into her long-winded explanation.
"A magical substance that can turn lead into gold and produce the Elixir of Life."
A calm voice suddenly cut into their conversation.
The trio spun around.
Julian was standing behind them, holding a cup of tea, his silver and green Slytherin scarf draped casually over his shoulder, looking somewhat languid.
Daphne stood beside Julian, observing the grease on the corner of Ron's mouth as if she were looking at some rare magical creature.
"Rosier?" Hermione's face instantly turned red. She was instinctively a bit flustered because Julian had previously reminded her in the Library.
But at that time, she hadn't connected Nicolas Flamelwith Nicolas Flamel.
Julian nodded slightly to Hermione, saying nothing, but continued with the topic.
Julian took a small sip of tea, his gaze sweeping over the three of them.
"Nicolas Flamel is over six hundred years old. He and his wife, Perenelle, live in seclusion in Devon, enjoying a certain... extended life."
"Over six hundred years old?!" Ron's eyes widened, and the sausage finally fell from his mouth. "Merlin's beard! Doesn't that make him an old monster?"
"Watch your language, Weasley." Daphne spoke coldly, shrinking back behind Julian in distaste. "That is a great alchemist, not the Ghoul in your attic."
Ron's face flushed red; he was about to argue back when Hermione kicked him hard under the table.
"So..." Harry looked at Julian with a complex expression, remembering what Julian had said before the magic mirror last night.
"The thing hidden under the trapdoor guarded by that Cerberus is that stone?" Harry asked.
"Obviously." Julian shrugged. "But that's not the point, Harry."
Setting down his teacup, Julian leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice—a movement that instantly made him the center of this small circle.
"The point is, why would Dumbledore put such an extremely dangerous object—one enough to drive every Dark Wizard in the world mad with temptation—in a school full of underage Wizards?"
This question was like a heavy hammer, striking hard against the trio's hearts.
Hermione opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to defend the Principal, but found she couldn't find a suitable reason.
"Maybe... this is the safest place?" Hermione said somewhat uncertainly.
"The safest?" Julian chuckled, a hint of mockery in his eyes.
"Gringotts was broken into on the very day Hagrid took that dirty little package. And now, that thing is on the fourth floor, separated by only a simple Alohomora and a dog that falls asleep as soon as it hears music."
"Falls asleep as soon as it hears music?" Harry caught this information keenly. "How do you know Fluffy's... I mean, that dog's weakness?"
"Hagrid says everything when he's drunk, doesn't he?" Julian lied without blinking, his expression as natural as if he were commenting on the weather. "Just like he told me last night... forget it, it's not important."
He stopped himself just in time, leaving a sense of suspense for Harry and the others; some secrets were more interesting when they had to dig for them themselves.
"Listen." Julian looked at Harry, his eyes becoming serious and deep. "I have no interest in that stone. Turning lead into gold? I have enough Galleons. Eternal life?"
He shook his head, the corners of his mouth curling into a meaningful arc.
"A life maintained by medicine is like a specimen soaked in preservatives. You must take the Elixir of Life every day; once you stop, you will wither and die as quickly as a dried apple. That's not living, Harry—that's being cursed."
Chapter 68: Meeting Quirrell Again
Hermione gasped; she had never considered the issue of immortality from this perspective.
In books, it was always described as a supreme achievement.
"But that doesn't mean others don't want it." Julian's gaze pointedly shifted toward the staff table.
There, Professor Quirrell was wrapped in that ridiculous large turban, trembling in front of Professor Snape.
"Some long for resurrection, some long for wealth, and you..." Julian pointed at the trio, "you just happen to be standing right in the middle of the way."
"We're not in the way!" Ron said loudly. "We're protecting it! To keep Snape from stealing it!"
"Snape?" Julian raised an eyebrow and exchanged an amused look with Daphne. "Well, if you insist on believing it's Snape."
He didn't refute Ron's guess.
Misleading is the first step of control. Letting them focus their attention on Snape would instead cover the real threat—Quirrell, and the Lord Voldemort attached to him.
"Anyway," Julian straightened up and adjusted his cuffs.
"Since you already know it's the Philosopher's Stone, I suggest you look up information regarding 'Flamel's Legacy.' Perhaps you'll find that this game is much more complicated than you imagine."
"Why are you telling us this?" Hermione suddenly asked, looking at Julian with a gaze that flickered with a light bordering on worship.
"Because I don't want to see Gryffindor's House Point Hourglass hit rock bottom again." Julian gave an extremely perfunctory reason with a smile.
"And..." Julian looked at Harry, his finger lightly tapping the spot on his pocket—where an identical silver coin was placed.
"In this Castle full of lies, the truth is often more precious than magic."
Having said that, he bowed elegantly and turned to leave with Daphne.
Watching their departing figures, Ron took a resentful bite of his remaining sausage.
"I hate the way he talks, as if he knows everything and we're all fools."
"But he does know a lot, Ron." Hermione reopened the large book, her eyes determined.
"And Julian is right... about the side effects of the Philosopher's Stone... the book indeed mentions 'dependent corrosion' of the soul. If Snape is trying to resurrect some Dark Wizard..."
"Lord Voldemort," Harry suddenly said in a low voice.
"Don't say that name!" Ron said, so startled he nearly choked.
But Harry ignored him; his hand reached into his pocket, tightly gripping that silver coin.
Julian's words echoed in his mind.
Lingering on the brink of death, a cursed life.
If Lord Voldemort wants the Philosopher's Stone for resurrection... then is his current state, just as Julian said, a cursed existence?
And Dumbledore... is he really just trying to protect the stone? Or is he using this stone to lure Lord Voldemortout?
Harry felt a chill.
...
After leaving the Great Hall, Julian and Daphne walked on the stairs leading to the dungeons.
"You were misleading them just now," Daphne said with certainty, a hint of a smug smile on her face. "Even though everything you said was true, when put together... tsk tsk, that bookworm Granger probably considers Snape public enemy number one now."
"This is a necessary guidance, dear," Julian said nonchalantly.
"If they don't go and interfere with Snape, how will Snapehave the energy to keep an eye on Quirrell? And if Snapeisn't watching Quirrell, how will we have the chance to... do what we want to do?"
"What we want to do?" Daphne asked curiously.
"Tonight." Julian stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the edge of the Forbidden Forest outside the window.
There, Hagrid's hut was emitting black smoke, appearing somewhat lonely.
"Since we've already collected the rent (Norbert), we should also help our tenant resolve a little trouble."
"You mean..."
"The Unicorn." Julian's voice turned cold. "Quirrell is about to reach his limit; Lord Voldemort's soul is devouring his life force. He needs to constantly use Unicorn blood to sustain his life, and tonight... is the best time for hunting."
It had been a long time since the last time he caught Quirrell killing a Unicorn; Julian had reason to believe Quirrell would strike again.
"We're going to save the Unicorn?" Daphne was somewhat surprised. "That doesn't sound like something a Slytherin would do."
"Save?" Julian shook his head, a glimmer of greed flashing in his eyes.
"No, Unicorn blood is a cursed substance—touch it and you die—but the Unicorn's horn, hair, and the pure soul power remaining after its death, those are top-tier materials for Alchemy."
"Since it's destined to die at Quirrell's hands, why can't we... conveniently collect a little interest after it dies?"
"And," a cruel smile curled at the corners of Julian's mouth, "I also want to see just how weak that once-invincible Dark Lord has become now."
Daphne looked at Julian, feeling her blood burning throughout her body.
This was her King.
Cold, rational, profit-oriented, yet possessing the confidence to control everything.
"I'll go with you," Daphne said without hesitation. "No matter where."
"Of course." Julian took her hand.
...
Night fell.
Hogwarts was once again shrouded in darkness.
Julian and Daphne changed into black hunting gearsuitable for movement—this was also the result of Julianusing Transfiguration to modify school robes.
They avoided all the portraits and ghosts, slipping out of the Castle silently.
At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the cold wind howled.
The trees swayed in the wind like twisted spectral shadows.
"Are you ready?" Julian drew his wand, holding that reinforced ring in his other hand.
"Always ready." Daphne gripped her wand tightly; although her hands were shaking slightly, her gaze was exceptionally firm.
"Then let's go."
The two entered deep into the Forbidden Forest.
The trail of silvery-blue blood on the ground emitted an eerie faint glow in the darkness.
Julian lowered his posture; the black hunting gearallowed him to almost blend in with the surrounding shadows.
Daphne followed closely behind him, her breathing very light, her hand tightly clutching her wand, her knuckles turning white from excessive force.
A hair-raising sound came from ahead.
It was a wet, greedy sucking sound, accompanied by the faint twitching of some dying creature.
Julian stopped and raised his hand to signal Daphne to hold her breath.
Looking from afar through the tangled thickets of thorns, they saw the scene.
A creature so white it glowed lay on the ground covered in rotting leaves, its neck bent at a twisted angle.
A hooded dark figure was crouched over its wound like a giant bat, frantically swallowing that silver blood.
It was Quirrell—or rather, the lingering soul parasitic on the back of his head—lingering on the brink of death through this most despicable means.
Last time, because he was carrying rowena ravenclaws diadem, the resonance between the Horcruxes had almost caused Julian to be exposed.
But this time, he had cleaned himself up very well, even using that reinforced Black Onyx Ring to suppress his own magic fluctuations.
Daphne gasped behind him and instinctively wanted to turn her head away, but Julian's hand reached back and firmly gripped her wrist.
His fingers were cold and powerful, conveying a silent command: Watch.
This is the price of the Dark Arts, this is the unsightly state of power after falling from grace; remember it.
Actually, Julian knew that bringing a first-year girl into the Forbidden Forest late at night wasn't a very good idea.
But if a person is to grow, they must experience some major events.
Just like the Harry trio in the original story, the reason they could become heroes in the later stages was by constantly experiencing setbacks and growing through them.
Chapter 69: Centaur
After about five minutes, the shadowy figure finally lifted its head and let out a satisfied yet agonized roar.
While Unicorn blood can prolong life, it is a cursed existence, each sip burning the drinker's soul.
The shadowy figure staggered to its feet, gliding across the ground like a ghost, swiftly disappearing into the other side of the forest.
Only after confirming that the chilling aura had completely receded did Julian slowly straighten up.
"Let's go."
His voice was terrifyingly calm, devoid of any fear, holding only the shrewdness of a merchant.
The two walked over to the corpse.
Up close, the Unicorn was breathtakingly beautiful.
Even in death, its fur still emitted a soft, pearly luminescence—a manifestation of pure magic.
"It's... so beautiful," Daphne murmured to herself, a trace of regret flickering in her eyes.
"Beauty often signifies high value," Julian remarked coldly. He crouched down and pulled out a set of precise silver dissection tools and several crystal vials covered in runes from within his robes.
"No time for sentimentalism, Daphne. After a Unicorndies, its magic dissipates rapidly within half an hour. We're racing against Death."
Julian put on dragon-hide gloves. With experience from last time, his movements were now practiced and skilled, like a surgeon who had worked at St. Mungo's for thirty years.
"Hand me the largest vial."
Daphne took a deep breath, suppressing the discomfort in her heart, and passed him the vial.
Julian did not directly touch the lethal blood. He waved his wand, chanting an ancient Alchemy incantation.
"Spiritus Extractio."
Guided by the spell, the silver blood that had not yet coagulated around the Unicorn's wound did not flow out. Instead, it began to boil and sublimate, transforming into wisps of silver mist that were drawn into the rune-covered crystal vial.
"This is'Spirit Blood'—a purified magic crystal with the curse removed," Julian explained, his gaze focused. "On the black market, this vial is worth a fortune."
Next, he turned his attention to the long, spiraled horn.
"Cutting Charm, Daphne. Aim at the base. Be quick, be decisive."
Daphne gritted her teeth and raised her wand: "Diffindo!"
A precise incision appeared at the base of the horn.
Julian swiftly wrapped the horn in a piece of black velvet cloth soaked in a preservative potion and stowed it away.
Finally, he plucked the longest, most lustrous hairs from the Unicorn's tail.
"Excellent material for wand cores, or for brewing powerful restorative potions."
When all was done, the once sacred and inviolable Unicorn corpse now looked like a pile of disassembled parts.
Just as Julian was about to stand up and clean the traces, a series of rapid, heavy hoofbeats suddenly sounded from all directions.
"Who goes there!"
Accompanied by a furious shout, a long arrow whistled through the air and thudded sharply into the dirt at Julian's feet, its shaft still vibrating violently.
Daphne gasped and quickly moved back-to-back with Julian, raising her wand toward the darkness.
The bushes parted, and three tall figures emerged.
They were Centaurs.
At the forefront was Bane, his black hair and beard wild and unkempt, eyes burning with fury.
Beside him was Ronan, his expression sorrowful. There was also a young Centaur, Firenze, looking at the body on the ground with a complex gaze.
"Wizards!" Bane roared, his front hooves angrily pawing the ground. "How dare you slaughter a pure life in the Forbidden Forest!"
Over a dozen bows were instantly drawn taut, arrowheads glinting coldly, all aimed at Julian and Daphne.
Daphne's hand trembled. Faced with such primal and powerful magical creatures, the spells of a first-year seemed so feeble.
But Julian did not move.
He didn't even raise his wand.
He merely unhurriedly removed his gloves, which were stained with a faint silver glow, tossed them into a waste bag he carried, then slowly looked up. His gray eyes held no panic, only a cold, condescending detachment.
"Put away your toys, Centaurs."
Julian's voice was not loud, yet it carried a strange penetrative force—the intimidating effect of Parseltongue's hisses mixed into human speech.
"Slaughter?" Julian let out a contemptuous laugh and nudged the corpse on the ground with the tip of his shoe. "Look at the wound, Bane. It was killed by tearing and biting. Do you really think my teeth are that sharp?"
Bane paused, his gaze sweeping over the wound on the Unicorn's neck. It indeed wasn't caused by a spell, but by some beast.
"Even if you didn't kill it, you have desecrated the dead!" Bane was still furious, but his hand holding the bow hesitated slightly. "You stole its horn and blood! This is an insult to the forest!"
"This is resource reclamation," Julian took a step forward—a dangerously bold step, placing him squarely within Bane's attack range.
"I thought Centaurs were famed for their wisdom, capable of reading the revelations in the stars."
Julian glanced up at the sky obscured by dark clouds, a mocking smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
"Mars is bright, isn't it? A true monster lurks in the forest, one even you dare not face directly.
And yet here you are, brandishing weapons at two first-years who merely cleaned up the aftermath?"
"You arrogant foal!" Bane, provoked, reared back on his hind legs, ready to charge.
At that moment, a terrifying aura suddenly erupted from Julian.
It wasn't magic, but the scent of a creature at the top of the food chain.
It was Norbert's aura.
As the Dragon Lord who personally fed and even soothed the dragon with his mind daily, Julian had gradually acquired a trace of draconic majesty.
Combined with the chilling pressure he now deliberately released—the pressure belonging to the Slytherinbloodline—
For that instant, in the Centaurs' perception, the figure before them was no longer a slender boy, but a dragon in human skin, baring its fangs at them.
*Whinny!*
Bane's equine body instinctively felt fear. His front legs weakened, and his thunderous charge came to an abrupt halt.
The other Centaurs grew restless as well; their animal instincts told them this creature before them was dangerous.
"I don't like being aimed at with arrows."
Julian's voice became low and hoarse, as if emanating from the depths of hell.
"I didn't kill it, but I wouldn't mind adding a few more corpses to this forest. After all... Centaur hearts are decent medicinal ingredients, though I'm not particularly fond of that earthy taste."
A deathly silence fell.
From behind, Daphne watched Julian's back, her eyes brimming with admiration. He was actually threatening a group of adult Centaurs!
A long moment passed.
Firenze stepped forward and pressed down on Bane's still-trembling arm.
"Let him go, Bane," Firenze's voice was ethereal and sorrowful. "The stars show that this boy's path of fate... lies beyond our comprehension. He is not the killer, but he does bring the storm of change."
Bane panted heavily, glaring fixedly at Julian, before finally lowering his bow with reluctance.
"Leave this place, whelp," Bane said through gritted teeth. "Before the forest decides to devour you."
"A wise choice."
Julian retracted the aura around him, reverting to the elegant noble youth.
He even performed a proper Wizard's bow to the Centaurs, though the gesture seemed utterly saturated with sarcasm.
"Farewell, star-gazers. I hope next time we meet, you'll see something other than just Mars."
With that, he took the trembling Daphne by the hand and walked into the darkness without looking back.
Only after walking a considerable distance and confirming the Centaurs weren't pursuing did Daphne finally let out a long sigh, nearly collapsing against Julian.
"Merlin's pants... you were just... utterly insane!" Daphneclutched Julian's arm, her words tumbling out incoherently. "Those were Centaurs! You actually threatened to turn them into potion ingredients?"
"Bluffing is a required course for Slytherins," Juliansupported her. Though a layer of cold sweat had broken out on his own back, his demeanor remained composed and unruffled.
"Besides, what they fear isn't me. It's the unknown."
Julian patted the bottles in his pocket, filled with their spoils, producing a crisp clinking sound.
"Tonight's harvest isn't just these materials, Daphne."
He looked toward the warm lights of Hogwarts Castleahead, his eyes gleaming with ambition.
"We just proved something: in this world of survival of the fittest, as long as you act more monstrous than the monsters, even monsters will make way for you."
Chapter 70: Training Norbert
The January winds of the Scottish Highlands did not blow into Hogwarts Castle, especially not into the Room of Requirement on the Eighth Floor.
The temperature here was shockingly high, and the air was thick with a heavy scent of sulfur, burnt material, and the distinct, musky odor of a large reptile.
"Dammit! Hold its tail down, Daphne! Don't let it sweep the Potion rack!"
Julian's voice echoed through the vast Dragon's nest, carrying a rare hint of irritation.
At this moment, Julian wasn't wearing his usual refined Slytherin school robes. Instead, he wore only a linen shirt soaked in sweat, sleeves rolled up high to reveal forearms covered in small scratches.
Before him stood a Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon that had already grown to the size of an adult tiger.
Norbert—or rather, the creature he had become—had completely moved beyond the realm of a cute hatchling.
Its scales had transformed from their initial soft shells into a hard, dark iron color. The ridges on its back were like a row of sharp serrations, and every breath was accompanied by twin plumes of black smoke and several sparks from its nostrils.
"I'm trying! But this thing is too strong!"
Daphne shouted through gritted teeth, her wand pointed at Norbert's long, spiked tail as she maintained a high-intensity 'Incarcerous' spell.
Her hair was plastered to her cheeks from the heat. The usually haughty Ice Queen now looked like a female warrior who had just escaped a fire, her face streaked with a line of black soot.
"Roar—!"
Norbert let out an irritable roar, his neck snapping around as he tried to bite the hand Julian was using to hold a carving knife.
A wild light flickered in his vertical pupils. A Dragon's adolescence, much like a human's rebellious phase, was full of destructive urges and challenges to authority.
"Look at me!"
Julian didn't dodge. Instead, he slammed down the carving knife and grabbed Norbert's burning hot upper and lower jaws with both hands, forcing the head to turn toward him.
His own eyes instantly shifted into vertical slits, and his mental energy stabbed into Norbert's simple, violent brain like a sharp blade.
"Legilimens!"
A rattling sound came from Norbert's throat. His body trembled violently, and his tail lashed the ground frantically, sending sparks flying everywhere.
The boy and the Dragon remained locked in a stalemate.
Sweat dripped from Julian's chin onto the tip of Norbert's snout, instantly evaporating into a wisp of white steam from the heat.
A few seconds later, the ferocious light in Norbert's eyes slowly receded, replaced by a sense of fear and submission. He gave a low whimper, flattened himself against the ground, and tucked in his wings.
"Good boy."
Julian let go and exhaled a long breath, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over his brain.
Controlling an adolescent Dragon was more exhausting than negotiating with ten Centaurs.
"Give me the Beast-blood ink." Julian reached out his hand without looking back.
Daphne immediately handed over a crystal bottle containing a dark red liquid that looked as if it were burning.
This was a special ink Julian had prepared by mixing the Unicorn blood he had collected earlier with Salamanderblood, specifically designed for carving Runic Script onto the scales of magical creatures.
Julian picked up a slender brush made of wolf hair, dipped it in the ink, and began to trace patterns on Norbert's hardest piece of chest-plate scale.
It was an ancient Runic Script—a combination of 'Gebo' (Gift/Partner) and 'Thurisaz' (Giant/Strength).
As the brush tip moved, Norbert hissed in pain. The ink was highly corrosive, intended to permanently brand the magic into his flesh and blood.
"Will this really work?" Daphne leaned in, watching the complex patterns glow with a dark red light on the Dragon scales.
"It will enhance his magic resistance while deepening his mental link with me." Julian's hand was steady, even as Norbert's muscles twitched incessantly.
"Hagrid's way of raising a Dragon like a dog is a complete waste of a natural treasure. A Dragon is a weapon, Daphne, and a weapon needs to be forged."
The final stroke was completed.
Vroom—!
An invisible ripple spread out from Norbert.
He suddenly stood up and let out a long cry toward the ceiling. A layer of dark red flowing light faintly emerged on his originally iron-black scales.
His size seemed to expand by another margin, and the sense of pressure made Daphne instinctively take a step back.
"Now, it's time to check the results."
Julian tossed the brush aside and cracked his neck, making a series of popping sounds.
He walked to Norbert's side and grabbed the ridges on his back.
"What are you trying to do?" Daphne's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? There's not enough space here!"
"This room will provide what we need."
As soon as Julian finished speaking, the walls of the Room of Requirement began to expand. The originally cramped alchemy lab transformed into a massive, circular arena resembling an ancient Roman Colosseum, with the floor turning into hard rock.
Julian vaulted onto the Dragon's back.
This was an entirely different matter from riding a broomstick.
A broom was a dead thing, a submissive tool; but a Dragon was alive. Its muscles writhed under your thighs, its body temperature was almost enough to scald your skin, and every breath it took felt like a roaring engine.
"Take flight! Norbert!"
Julian squeezed the Dragon's belly with his legs and shouted loudly.
Norbert unfurled his pair of leather wings, which had already begun to take shape, and gave them a powerful flap.
A gust of wind kicked up the dust from the ground, forcing Daphne to raise her arm to shield her eyes.
The massive counter-force sent Norbert soaring into the air, carrying Julian as they circled ten feet above the ground.
Though they weren't flying high or steadily—even stumbling a bit—the thrill of conquering the overlord of the skies was unparalleled.
Julian could feel Norbert's emotions—anger, resentment, but more than anything, awe for the person on his back.
"Left!" Julian issued the command through their mental link while pulling on a makeshift harness made of Dragonhide.
Norbert reluctantly turned his head and snorted black smoke, but he still obediently tilted his wings to the left, carving out a far-from-graceful arc.
"Incredible..." Daphne looked up at the boy taming the vicious Dragon in the air, a blurred radiance flickering in her eyes.
At this moment, Julian was more dazzling than ever. He was like a Dragon Rider from myth, filled with a wild and powerful beauty.
However, accidents always accompany attempts.
Just as Julian tried to have Norbert perform a dive, Norbert suddenly lost his patience.
He abruptly folded his wings and performed an extremely dangerous barrel roll in the confined space, attempting to shake off the parasite on his back.
"Watch out!" Daphne screamed.
Chapter 71: Warning
Julian felt the world spinning around him. He gripped the spines on Norbert's back tightly, his palms sliced open and blood flowing out.
But the blood did not drip; instead, it seeped into Norbert's scales through the wound.
That was Julian's blood, carrying a trace of bloodline power.
Norbert shuddered all over as if struck by lightning, stiffening for a moment in the air before crashing heavily to the ground as if drained of strength, sliding for several meters before stopping.
Julian was thrown off, but he reacted quickly, adjusting his posture in mid-air and using a Cushioning Charm (Arresto Momentum) to land steadily, only staggering a few steps.
"Julian!" Daphne rushed over, checking his body anxiously. "You're hurt!"
"Minor injury." Julian shook the blood off his hand, looking at Norbert whimpering on the ground not far away.
The fellow was licking the spot on its back stained with Julian's blood, its gaze becoming unusually docile, even carrying a hint of fawning.
"It seems the blood contract is even more effective than I imagined." A cruel smile curled at the corner of Julian's mouth.
He walked up to Norbert; the fierce beast now submissively lowered its head, letting Julian stroke the tip of its nose.
"It has recognized its master, completely."
Julian turned around, looked at the worried Daphne, and suddenly reached out to pull her by the waist towards him.
"Ah!" Daphne cried out, crashing into an embrace that smelled of sweat, sulfur, and dragon blood.
The smell wasn't pleasant, but to Daphne, it was the strongest hormonal catalyst.
"Were you scared just now?" Julian looked down at her, their noses almost touching.
"Scared to death," Daphne answered honestly, her breathing ragged. "But I was more afraid of you falling."
"As long as you're watching me, I won't fall." Julian said this slightly cheesy but, at this moment, incredibly effective line of sweet talk.
He lowered his head and kissed Daphne's forehead.
It was an aggressive kiss, carrying the lingering afterglow of having just conquered the giant dragon, rough and passionate.
Daphne responded passionately, her arms tightly hugging Julian's waist as if she wanted to merge herself into his body.
Norbert snorted nearby, seemingly expressing dissatisfaction at these two humans ignoring it, but it didn't interrupt their passion.
After a long time.
Daphne leaned against Julian's chest, her face as red as a ripe apple.
"It's growing too fast, Julian." Daphne glanced at Norbert, who took up half the room, a trace of worry in her tone.
"In a few more months, your pet necklace or even the Room of Requirement might not be able to hold it. And it's eating more and more; the brandy and chicken Hagridsends over aren't enough anymore."
"I know." Julian's gaze darkened as he regained his composure.
"That fool Hagrid will let the cat out of the bag sooner or later. Although I enjoy the feeling of possessing this dragon, Hogwarts isn't a perfect dragon farm before it's fully grown."
He walked to a table and picked up a towel to wipe the sweat off his body.
"We need a plan—one that can send Norbert away to grow up safely while ensuring it still belongs to me."
"Give it to Charlie Weasley?"
"That's the last resort." Julian shook his head. "Sending it to Romania is as good as turning it over to the public; what I want is my private property."
He picked up a vial of dragon blood he had just extracted and swirled it under the light.
The blood was a bright gold, containing astonishing fluctuations of magical power.
"But before that, there's still a lot we can do. For example..."
Julian looked at Daphne, his eyes flashing with the characteristic fervor of an alchemist.
"Using this vial of dragon blood to make a real amulet for you—one that will let you walk away unscathed even when facing the Defense Against the Dark ArtsProfessor."
"For... me?" Daphne was stunned, a warm current surging through her heart.
"Of course, my queen." Julian smiled. "After all, if I ever conquer the world riding a dragon, someone has to help me hold the crown, right?"
...
A few days later, in Potion Class.
The dungeon classroom was still cold and damp.
Harry and Ron were struggling with how to chop daisy roots, while Hermione guided them in a low voice nearby.
Julian sat in the back row, elegantly processing the materials in his hands.
He was in a good mood because last night's experiment had been very successful.
That dragon blood amulet was finished and was now hanging around Daphne's neck, hidden close to her skin under her robes.
"Potter!"
Professor Snape's silky voice suddenly rang out, cracking through the air like a whip.
"Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry stood up blankly; that was a question from the first class, but he had clearly forgotten most of it, or rather, nervousness had made his mind go blank.
"The Draught of Living Death, Professor." Hermione's hand was raised high, but Snape didn't even glance at her.
"Sit down, Miss Granger," Snape said coldly, then turned to Harry. "Still as thick as ever, Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor."
Harry sat down indignantly, while Ron whispered insults about Snape beside him.
Julian watched this scene, his fingers lightly stroking his wand.
The plot was continuing, but some things had changed.
He could feel the signals of Harry's emotional fluctuations—anger, grievance, and a thirst for power.
This thirst was exactly the best nourishment for Julian.
The bell rang for the end of class.
Julian packed his things and was about to leave when Snape called him back.
"Mr. Rosier, stay behind."
Daphne gave him a worried look; Julian gave her a reassuring glance, signaling her to go first.
Only two people remained in the classroom.
Snape sat behind the podium, his tunnel-like black eyes staring intently at Julian.
"I heard..." Snape began slowly, his voice low. "Lately, things haven't been quiet in the Forbidden Forest. The Centaurs are complaining about a thief with the smell of sulfur wandering at night."
Julian's heart skipped a beat, but he maintained a perfect smile on his face.
"Rumors are always interesting, Professor, but I thought you'd be more concerned with the secret under Professor Quirrell's large turban."
Snape's eyes narrowed, and an invisible pressure enveloped Julian.
"Don't try to change the subject, Rosier. Your little tricks might fool Potter, but they won't fool me."
Snape stood up and walked over to Julian, his black robes billowing like bat wings.
"I don't care what you're plotting. Stay away from that three-headed Fluffy, and stay away from the Forbidden Forest. If I find you doing anything that harms the school..."
"What would you do? Put me in detention? Or expel me?"
Julian met Snape's gaze without a trace of fear.
Chapter 72: Night Prowling
"Professor, we are the same kind of people."
Julian glanced meaningfully at Snape's arm—the place where the dark mark was hidden.
"We both know that some power is only safe when held in one's own hands."
Snape's pupils contracted sharply. He grabbed Julian by the collar and pulled him close.
"Are you proud of it? Foolish boy," Snape said through gritted teeth, his voice laced with suppressed pain and anger. "You think that is power? It is poison!"
"Poison or power depends on whose hand holds it."
Julian said softly, then gently freed himself from Snape's grip.
"Thank you for the reminder, Dean. I will be careful."
After speaking, he straightened his collar and turned to leave the classroom.
Snape watched his retreating back, remaining motionless for a long time.
This child... was too much like him in his youth, yet more dangerous because he lacked that humble love as a weakness.
No, perhaps he did have one.
Snape remembered the blonde girl who always followed Rosier around.
"Greengrass..." Snape murmured the name softly, a complex light flickering in his eyes.
Night fell. Inside the Library, the air was thick with the smell of old parchment and dust.
It was so quiet one could almost hear the dust settling, disturbed only by the occasional ghostly shadow flitting past the windows.
Julian's figure was not fully visible. He had cast a high-level Disillusionment Charm on himself, blending into the surroundings like a chameleon.
His target was clear—the Restricted Section.
Norbert's growth rate defied biological common sense. At this rate, the magic necklace might not be able to contain him for much longer.
For example, the 'Soul Chain' recorded in *The Secret of the Blood Pact*, or the construction principles of the subspace magic used in Gringotts vaults.
*Click.*
Julian deftly used an Alohomora charm to unlock the gate to the Restricted Section.
The books here were different from those outside.
They had life, temper, and even teeth.
Julian's fingers lightly traced the spines of books bound in some creature's hide, feeling a faint, prickling sensation on his fingertips.
Just as his fingers brushed against a particular book, a strange feeling suddenly washed over him.
It wasn't a fluctuation of magic, but... an air current.
Someone was here.
And they were less than two meters behind him.
Julian's body tensed instantly, but he didn't turn around or draw his wand. He merely tilted his head slightly, using his peripheral vision to observe the seemingly empty air.
There was an extremely subtle distortion in the light there, like heat haze rising from asphalt on a summer day.
An invisibility cloak.
A playful curve lifted the corner of Julian's mouth.
It seems our 'chosen one' couldn't sleep tonight either.
At that moment, the patch of air moved.
Harry clearly didn't possess Julian's level of composure or acute perception.
He clumsily placed a lantern on the floor—a cardinal sin of stealth—and reached for a book on the shelf.
It was a large book bound in black and silver, looking quite harmless.
"Don't touch that..." Julian thought to himself, but he didn't voice a warning.
Some lessons are only learned through pain.
Harry pulled the book out and opened it on his lap.
"Aaaaah—!!!"
A shrill, strangled scream instantly shattered the Library's silence.
The book contained no words but bore a twisted human face, its mouth wide open now, emitting an alarm loud enough to wake the entire Castle.
Harry was terrified. He fumbled to close the book, but it was useless; the scream continued to echo.
Immediately after, from the end of the corridor came the cry of Filch's cat, Madam Norris, followed by Filch's dragging, hurried footsteps.
"Someone's there! Put out that light!" Filch's raspy voice called out.
Panicking, Harry grabbed for the invisibility cloak to throw it on, but the book was still screaming, making it impossible for him to focus.
At this critical moment.
A pale, strong hand suddenly materialized from the void and seized Harry by the back of his collar.
"Be quiet, or I'll hand you over to Filch."
A low, icy voice sounded in Harry's ear.
Before Harry could react, he felt himself being yanked by a tremendous force into the shadows between two rows of bookshelves.
"Quietus!"
The owner of the hand swiftly waved his wand. An invisible barrier enveloped the still-screaming bookshelf area, containing the sound within a limited range.
Then, the figure canceled the Disillusionment Charm.
Silver moonlight streamed through the high windows, illuminating that handsome, cold face.
"R...Rosier?!" Harry's eyes widened, and he nearly cried out.
Julian immediately reached out, covering Harry's mouth and pinning him firmly against the bookshelf.
"Shh—" Julian raised a finger, his grey eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "Listen."
Filch's footsteps had already reached the entrance to the Restricted Section.
"Who's there? I know you're in there! Don't think you can hide!"
Filch held an oil lamp, its dim light sweeping back and forth between the shelves.
Harry's heart pounded violently, almost leaping from his throat. He clutched the invisibility cloak in his hand, his only lifeline.
Julian glanced at the cloak, fluid and smooth, a flash of undisguised greed in his eyes. But he quickly reined in his emotions.
"Put it on," Julian commanded in an extremely low voice. "Cover both of us."
"What?" Harry was stunned.
"Hurry! Unless you want to be sent back to Privet Drivetomorrow morning!"
Harry didn't hesitate any longer. He quickly shook out the invisibility cloak.
The cloak was large enough to accommodate two slender boys.
The two squeezed into the narrow gap between shelves. The invisibility cloak fell over their heads, instantly erasing their forms from the world.
Filch walked in.
The light from his oil lamp swept over the spot where Harry had been standing. The screaming book had been temporarily silenced by Julian's earlier spell and now lay on the floor, playing dead.
"Strange..." Filch muttered, his murky eyes scanning the area suspiciously. "I could have sworn I heard..."
He took step after step toward where Julian and Harrywere hiding.
Harry held his breath.
Filch stopped less than half a meter away from them, reaching out and waving his hand through the empty air.
Those grimy fingers almost brushed the tip of Harry's nose.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut in fright.
But nothing happened.
Filch seemed to feel something and shivered. "Damnable draft..."
Just then, another voice came from outside the corridor.
"Filch?"
It was Snape.
"If you are looking for the student out of bed, I believe he may have headed toward the Trophy Room."
Snape's voice was as cold and smooth as silk, tinged with impatience.
Filch immediately turned. "Oh, thank you, Professor! I'll go catch that little brat right away!"
The footsteps gradually faded away.
The Library returned to its deathly silence.
Harry felt his legs go weak. He was about to throw off the invisibility cloak when Julian pressed a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't move," Julian's voice sounded muffled under the cloak. "Snape hasn't left."
Sure enough, the black-clad figure remained standing at the entrance.
Snape had not departed. His gaze was as sharp as an eagle's, fixed intently on the depths of the Restricted Section as if he could see through the void.
"If you are there, Potter..." Snape said softly, his tone carrying a complex note, "...or some other foolhardy creature..."
He paused for a moment, then finally snorted coldly, turned on his heel, and strode away, his black robes billowing like waves.
Only after confirming Snape was truly gone did Julianthrow off the invisibility cloak.
Fresh air rushed in. Harry gasped for breath as if he had just been pulled from water.
"Th...thank you," Harry said, looking at Julian with a complicated expression.
He had always thought Julian was a dangerous Slytherin, one of Malfoy's lot, but tonight... he had saved him.
"Don't thank me yet, Potter."