Chapter 73: Quidditch
Julian straightened his slightly disheveled collar, resuming his lofty demeanor.
"Slytherins never make deals at a loss. I saved you, so you owe me one."
His gaze fell upon the invisibility cloak, his fingers lightly stroking his chin.
"A very... interesting magical object. Perfect invisibility. I almost didn't even detect it."
Harry instinctively hid the cloak behind him a little more. "This... this was left to me by my father."
"Relax, I won't steal your family heirloom." Julianchuckled softly. "Though it does have significant research value."
He pulled a thin notebook from inside his robe. Originally, it was observation notes he'd prepared to deal with Quirrell, but now it was perfect for currying favor.
"You're looking for Nicolas Flamel, right?"
Harry nodded in surprise. "How did you know?"
"Your face might as well have 'I'm looking for a secret' written on it." Julian shoved the notebook into Harry's hands.
"Don't look in obvious places like the Restricted Section. Information of that level is either in the Principal's office, or tucked away in some unremarkable corner."
"This notebook contains some notes on how to handle 'certain' Professors, and... some clues about Flamel."
Harry lowered his head and opened the notebook. By the moonlight, he saw a line of elegant italic script on the first page:
When you want to know a person's secret, don't look at their eyes. Look at what they're trying to hide. For instance, a certain turban that always reeks of garlic.
"What does that mean?" Harry looked up, only to find Julian was already at the door.
"Figure it out yourself, Harry."
Julian waved a hand behind his back.
"Also, next time you're out after hours, wear some soft-soled shoes. Your footsteps sound like a Troll tap-dancing."
Watching Julian's back disappear into the darkness, Harrygripped the notebook tightly.
What kind of person was this Slytherin...?
He seemed to know everything, to control everything, yet he drifted outside the rules.
That sense of mystery was more terrifying than the mirror of erised.
...
Back in the Room of Requirement.
Julian didn't rest immediately.
He sat at the desk, spread out a piece of parchment, and began writing rapidly with a quill.
Project: Deathly Hallows (invisibility cloak)
Holder: Harry Potter
Status: Confirmed genuine. Fluid fabric. Mana circuits exceptionally perfect. Ignores basic detection spells.
Plan: Requires further contact. Attempt to analyze its weaving principles. Perhaps it could be used to conceal Norbert's aura?
He stopped writing and pulled a book from his pocket—*The Secrets of Blood Pacts*—which he had 'borrowed' from the Restricted Section.
Though the process was a bit convoluted, the objective was achieved.
Moreover, he had gained a favor from the chosen one.
This deal was a massive win.
"Julian?"
Daphne sat up groggily from the sofa. She had been waiting for him.
"You're back? Did you get the book?"
"Got it." Julian walked over and kissed her forehead. "And I ran into an interesting night wanderer."
"Who?"
"Our Mr. Chosen One." Julian smiled, his eyes deep. "He has a good thing, Daphne. A truly good thing that can make us invisible."
He tossed the book onto the table and unbuttoned the top of his collar.
"Sleep. Tomorrow will be another busy day. We need to start preparing Norbert for his move."
"Move? To where?"
"To a place... only I know."
Julian looked toward the large vanishing cabinet in the corner.
Though it led to Knockturn Alley and wasn't suitable for raising a dragon, its spatial folding principle had given Julian an idea.
If he could combine the principles of the invisibility cloakwith the spatial technology of the vanishing cabinet...
Perhaps he could modify his own magical necklace to create a portable 'Dragon's Domain' for Norbert.
It was insane, but that was the charm of Alchemy.
A few days later, the Scottish Highlands were shrouded in leaden, heavy clouds. A fierce wind howled through the stands of the Quidditch Pitch, making the house banners snap and flutter.
It was an abysmal day for flying, but it did nothing to dampen the students' enthusiasm—or rather, their eagerness to watch the spectacle.
"Look at Potter's face. White as a ghost."
Draco Malfoy sat to Julian's left, holding an advanced panoramic telescope that could even replay events, a malicious smirk playing on his lips.
"With Professor Snape as the referee, if I were Potter, I'd jump off my broom right now. At least I'd have a whole corpse."
Julian lounged lazily in his seat, cradling a cup of hot black tea under a Warming Charm, and didn't take up Malfoy's thread.
He wasn't wearing his Quidditch robes today, as this was the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match.
A Slytherin silver-and-green scarf was wrapped around his neck. He appeared elegant and aloof, standing apart from the other students.
Daphne sat beside him, intimately linking her arm with his and resting her head lightly on his shoulder, seemingly uninterested in the match on the field.
"Why do you think Professor Snape suddenly decided to referee?" Daphne whispered, her breath forming a white mist instantly scattered by the wind. "He usually hates this 'foolish flying on brooms' sport the most."
"For fairness, of course." Julian chuckled softly, taking a sip of his tea, but his gaze swept meaningfully toward the teachers' stand. "Or, to prevent certain... accidents from happening again."
On the field, the whistle blew.
Snape rose into the air on his broom. It must be said, the old bat rode a broom with the same stiff, gloomy posture as he walked. His black robes billowed in the wind, making him look like a giant crow.
The match was fraught with tension from the start.
Perhaps to prove his 'impartiality and strictness,' Snapepenalized Gryffindor three times within the first five minutes.
"Penalty to Gryffindor! George Weasley, deliberate collision!"
A chorus of boos rose from the stands. Ron and Nevillewere red-faced and furious on the opposite side, while only Malfoy doubled over with laughter beside Julian.
"Brilliant! Take off another ten points! Send them all off!"
Julian's gaze didn't linger on Snape. Instead, it passed over the crowd and locked onto a purple figure in the corner of the teachers' stand.
Quirrell.
The stuttering Professor was bundled up exceptionally tightly today. That large purple scarf seemed to be trying to swallow his whole head.
He huddled in his seat, hands clasped tightly on his knees, appearing to tremble.
But Julian knew he was chanting.
Ever since giving Harry that notebook in the Restricted Section that night, Julian had been observing Quirrell's reactions.
At that moment, Harry was circling high above, searching for the Golden Snitch.
Suddenly, his Nimbus 2000 seemed to hit an invisible wall of air. It jerked to a momentary halt, then began to tilt unnaturally to the left.
It wasn't the violent, frantic shaking from last time. This was a more insidious, concealed form of control.
It was as if an invisible hand was tugging at the broom's tail, trying to fling him toward a stand pillar.
Harry's face was pale as he desperately tried to pull up on the broom handle, but it looked precarious in the gale.
"Look! Potter seems to have lost control of his broom!" Malfoy shouted excitedly. "Fall! Fall!"
Julian narrowed his eyes slightly.
His vision pierced through the layers of people, precisely catching the almost imperceptible, rapid movement of Quirrell's lips.
He was casting a high-level Impediment Jinx, masked by the cover of the raging wind, making it very difficult to detect.
Snape clearly sensed something was wrong too. He spun around sharply in mid-air, trying to locate the source of the spell, but he was too far away and was busy penalizing another Hufflepuff player for a foul, unable to be in two places at once.
Chapter 74: Danger
Julian sighed softly and set down the teacup in his hand.
"It's never-ending..."
Since Harry was now his debtor, he couldn't let this investment turn into a bloody pulp so quickly.
Besides, causing trouble for Lord Voldemort was a pleasure in itself.
Julian did not draw his wand; casting a spell under the watchful eyes of so many would be foolish.
His fingers traced a simple rune inside his sleeve.
This wasn't an attack spell, but a little trick he had learned while repairing the vanishing cabinet — Structural Loosening.
The target wasn't Quirrell, but the old-looking wooden bench seat Quirrell was sitting on.
"Laxamentum (Loosen)."
He recited it silently in his mind.
At the teachers' table.
Quirrell, who had been wholly focused on chanting a harmful curse, suddenly felt the support beneath him vanish.
A crisp *crack* echoed.
One of the rear legs of Quirrell's chair broke without warning.
The sudden weightlessness caused Quirrell to let out an instinctive cry of alarm. He tumbled backwards ungracefully, even passing right through the dozing Professor Binns (the ghost) beside him.
Although he quickly grabbed the armrest to steady himself, that brief second of panic and imbalance was enough to disrupt any Dark Arts spell requiring intense concentration.
In the sky, Harry felt the pulling force vanish instantly.
At the same moment, a flash of gold streaked before his eyes.
The Snitch!
Harry didn't hesitate for a moment. Without even thinking, his body reacted instinctively. He dove down like a green bullet, his speed astonishing.
Snape had just turned his head when he saw a blur streak past him.
A few seconds later.
Harry pulled up sharply on his broom and raised his right hand high.
The golden Snitch was fluttering its wings feebly between his fingers.
"Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins!"
Lee Jordan's voice boomed across the pitch through the magical loudspeaker. Though tinged with a hint of reluctance (since Snape was still refereeing), the Gryffindor stands erupted instantly.
"Damn it!" Malfoy fumed, slamming his Omnioculars onto his knees. "How is he always so lucky!"
A faint smile touched the corner of Julian's lips as he picked up his teacup again.
"Luck is part of skill, Draco."
He glanced at the teachers' table, where Quirrell had just scrambled to his feet, looking terrified as he adjusted his turban. A flicker of mockery passed through Julian's eyes.
"Let's go, Daphne. It's too windy here."
...
In the exit corridor, the crowd surged.
Julian, holding Daphne's hand, was about to head back to the dungeons when he ran into the trio, who had just changed and emerged around a corner.
Harry's face was flushed, still excitedly discussing the dive with Ron, while Hermione was chattering away beside them, analyzing the tactics.
Upon seeing Julian, all three fell silent.
Ron instinctively stepped in front of Harry, eyeing the Slytherin warily.
But Harry pushed Ron aside.
He looked at Julian, a certain light flickering in his eyes.
Up in the air, just as his broom went out of control, he thought he'd seen some commotion over at the teachers' table.
He didn't know exactly what happened, but he remembered what Julian had said that night in the Restricted Section.
When Quirrell fell, his hands had clutched desperately at his turban.
"An excellent match, Potter," Julian said, stopping. His tone was flat, as if commenting on the weather.
"Though your dive could have been a bit cleaner, unless you want a neck problem at your age."
"Thanks," Harry said, taking a deep breath. Then he asked abruptly, out of nowhere, "Just now... was it you?"
Ron and Hermione beside him looked bewildered. "Was what you?"
Julian raised an eyebrow. His grey eyes showed no ripple of emotion.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter. I was just having tea in the stands."
He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice so only Harry could hear:
"However, some chairs are indeed old and poorly maintained. Just like some people's disguises, they can fall apart with the slightest nudge.
"Remember this, Potter. In this school, accidents are rarely accidents."
Having said that, he straightened up, resuming his haughty posture. He gave Hermione a slight nod (which made her blush), then strode away with Daphne.
Watching Julian's retreating back, Ron frowned and asked, "What riddles was he speaking? What chair?"
Harry clenched his fist, feeling the cool touch of the Snitch in his palm.
"Nothing," Harry shook his head, a newfound determination in his eyes. "I think... I know who to keep an eye on now."
...
Back in the Slytherin Common Room.
The fire in the hearth burned brightly, chasing away the chill.
Daphne helped Julian unwrap his scarf and suddenly asked softly, "That chair earlier... you broke it, didn't you?"
Julian turned to look at this increasingly clever girl and tapped her nose with his finger.
"You shouldn't make accusations without evidence, Miss Greengrass."
"That's an admission," Daphne said with a sly smile, like a little fox who'd stolen the cream. "To save Potter? I thought you disliked him."
"I dislike fools, but that doesn't mean I want him dead right now."
Julian sank into the dark green velvet sofa, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames.
"Potter is a very useful piece, Daphne. I don't mind giving him a little help until he's served his greatest purpose."
"Besides..."
Julian pulled out the book he'd taken from the Restricted Section, *Secrets of Blood Pacts*, from his pocket. His fingers lightly traced the cover.
"It's better for him to owe me a debt than to owe Dumbledore.
"When the chosen one realizes that his true protector isn't that white-bearded old man who only eats sweets, but a Slytherin... the expression on his face will be priceless."
"Let's go!" Julian stood up.
Daphne was puzzled. "Where to?"
"The Room of Requirement."
Inside the Room of Requirement on the Eighth Floor, it had been transformed into a high-standard alchemy laboratory.
Complex magical arrays, drawn with chalk and mercury, covered the floor. Countless intricate geometric patterns shimmered with an eerie silver light under the faint candlelight.
In the center of the room, the magical necklace originally used to carry Norbert was suspended in mid-air.
It no longer looked like its former delicate, harmless self. Now, its main gemstone was vibrating violently, emitting a low hum.
The surrounding space was like shattered glass, covered in fine, dark cracks.
Julian stood at the center of the array. His shirt was completely open, revealing a lean but well-defined torso.
Sweat trickled down his chest, evaporating into mist from the surrounding Berserk Magic Field before it could hit the ground.
His condition was terrible.
His face was as pale as paper, his eyes bloodshot. The tip of his ebony wand spewed unstable silver threads, as if desperately trying to stitch together the spatial fissures attempting to tear reality apart.
"Capaneus (Spatial Extension)... Sanguis Ligatum (Blood Link)..."
He chanted the incantations in a low, hoarse voice, each syllable seeming to be squeezed from the depths of his throat.
*Secrets of Blood Pacts* lay open on a floating stand beside him, its pages rustling as if blown by an unfelt wind.
This was a mad attempt.
He was trying to forcibly fuse ancient blood pact magicwith advanced spatial extension charms.
A standard Undetectable Extension Charmmerely'squeezes' out a pocket in physical space. It's unstable and cannot sustain a magically powerful creature like Norbert long-term.
What Julian intended was to use dragon's blood and his own blood as a medium to carve out a'subspace' within the necklace, one anchored to his own soul.
It was like digging a chunk of flesh out of the skin of reality and patching it over with magic.
*HUM—!!!*
The necklace suddenly erupted in a blinding red light. The spatial cracks around it instantly widened, like greedy little mouths, voraciously devouring the surrounding magic and even beginning to pull at Julian's body.
Julian felt as if his magical core had been hooked up to a high-powered pump. His magic was draining away frantically, bringing with it intense vertigo and nausea.
Fine lines of blood began to appear on his skin—microscopic tears caused by spatial pressure.
"Damn it... miscalculation... energy overflow..."
Julian gritted his teeth, trying to cut off the magical supply. But the array had already formed a closed loop, Adhere to him like a black hole. He couldn't break free.
If this continued, he would be drained dry by this unfinished subspace, or even torn to shreds by spatial turbulence.
Chapter 75: Dragon Subspace
"Julian!"
Daphne, who had been guarding the edge of the magic circle, noticed something was wrong.
Her original task was just to maintain the stability of the outer magic circle, but seeing the beads of blood oozing from Julian's body and his tottering figure, she disregarded all talk of safe distances.
"Don't come over! Daphne! The space here is unstable!" Julian roared, a hint of panic in his voice for the first time.
This was no joke; the backlash of Space Magic was indiscriminate, and she could lose her limbs if she entered.
But Daphne didn't stop.
This Slytherin Ice Queen, who usually carried herself with such poise, now had eyes only for Julian.
She threw away the clipboard in her hand, drew her wand, cast her strongest Shield Charm on herself, and then rushed fearlessly into the chaotic magical field.
"Hiss—"
As soon as she stepped into the range of the magic circle, countless tiny Spatial Wind Blades tore through her robes, leaving several bloody marks on her fair arms.
But she seemed to feel no pain, rushing a few steps to Julian's back.
"What are you doing?! Get out!" Julian felt the warmth behind him and shouted in alarm.
"Shut up! Focus on controlling your wand!"
Daphne snapped, her voice even more forceful than Julian's.
She abruptly dropped her wand, wrapped her arms around Julian's waist from behind, pressing her entire body tightly against his sweat-soaked back.
The cool touch against his burning skin made Juliantremble.
"I am your anchor, Julian. Channel excess magic to me, or draw from me, whatever you need!"
Daphne closed her eyes, completely opening her magic source without reservation.
For Wizards, this was an extremely dangerous and intimate act, even more profound than physical intimacy.
It meant she had completely lowered her soul's defenses, allowing the other party to enter.
Julian felt it.
A cool, soft yet tenacious stream of magic surged into his body through their touching skin, like a clear spring flowing into a riverbed about to dry and crack.
The originally violent and restless magic flow, under the soothing effect of this power, miraculously calmed down.
"Crazy woman…"
Julian cursed under his breath, but a smile mixed with pain and madness curved his lips.
Since he had coolant and a backup battery, there was nothing to fear.
"Hold on tight, we're going to completely tame this damned thing!"
Julian took a deep breath, gripped his wand again, and the gray vertical pupils in his eyes sharply contracted.
"Finite Incantatem—no, Reformatio Spatii!"
With the support of Daphne's magic, he forcibly twisted the structure of the spell.
The spatial cracks that were spreading outwards were forcibly squeezed together by an invisible immense force, then compressed layer by layer like origami into the suspended gem.
The humming in the air grew sharper and sharper, finally turning into ultrasonic waves beyond human hearing.
"Boom!"
A dull explosion rang out in both their minds.
There was no explosion as imagined; instead, there was an extremely eerie silence.
All light, all cracks, all restlessness, vanished in an instant.
The necklace floated quietly in the air, slowly falling.
The gem's original color faded, turning into a deep, pure black that seemed to absorb light, with faint red liquid flowing within—a mixture of dragon blood and Julian's blood.
"It worked…"
Julian felt all his strength drain away, his legs gave out, and he fell backward.
But he didn't hit the ground, because Daphne was still holding him tightly.
The two slumped together onto the floor, covered in chalk dust and mercury residue, gasping for breath, their chests heaving violently.
Sweat had soaked through both their clothes, sticking them together.
Daphne's long hair was disheveled across her face, and the wound on her arm was still bleeding, but her eyes were astonishingly bright, fixed intently on Julian's profile.
"You're absolutely insane." Daphne's voice trembled slightly, tinged with lingering fear. "We almost died."
"But we didn't."
Julian laboriously lifted his hand and caught the slowly falling necklace.
It was cool to the touch, but he could clearly sense the vast space within—as large as a Quidditch Pitch, and its environment could change according to his will.
This was a perfect masterpiece.
He turned his head to look at the girl behind him.
Due to the intense magical consumption, Daphne's face was also pale, her lips devoid of color, but this instead added a fragile beauty to her.
"Does it hurt?" Julian reached out and gently touched the bloody mark on her arm.
"It hurts." Daphne nodded honestly, her eyes slightly red. "You owe me compensation."
"How shall I compensate you?"
"This is your compensation."
Daphne suddenly leaned down…
A long while passed.
They remained in an embrace, foreheads touching, breaths intertwined.
"That feeling just now…" Daphne murmured softly, her eyes hazy. "When our magic merged…it was like…"
"Soul Resonance." Julian finished the sentence for her.
Looking into Daphne's eyes, a faint gray mark, belonging to him, seemed to have appeared deep within those azure irises.
"From today on, this necklace is not only Norbert's nest but also the witness to our pact."
Julian held the necklace up before them, the black gem reflecting their images.
"Its core rules are engraved with your magical fluctuations, Daphne. Besides me, only you can open it, and only you can soothe the monster within."
Daphne extended a finger and gently touched the gem.
The gem shimmered, as if responding to her touch.
"Sounds like I'm the maid responsible for feeding the dragon." Daphne huffed, but the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up.
"No, you are the Dragon Queen's mistress." Juliancorrected, with an undeniable assertiveness in his tone.
He struggled to sit upright, picked up his wand from the floor, and lightly tapped Daphne's arm wound.
"Episkey."
The wound healed rapidly, leaving only a faint pink mark.
"And, regarding your actions just now, rushing in like that…" Julian put away his wand, his expression turning serious. "While brave, it was extremely foolish. Don't do it again."
"If I hadn't rushed in, you might be a pile of minced meat right now." Daphne glared back, not backing down. "Besides, I don't like standing in a safe place watching you take risks. That's what Potter's friends do, not a Slytherin."
"Accomplices, remember?" She extended her pinky finger and hooked it around Julian's. "We either win together, or we go to hell together."
Julian looked at her, silent for a moment, then smiled helplessly.
"Alright, Miss Accomplice."
He stood up, pulling Daphne up with him.
"Now, let's go see our new 'pet room' and move that big guy in. I think Norbert can't wait to leave that cramped corner."
Julian waved his wand, opening the necklace's spatial entrance.
A black vortex appeared out of thin air, from which came Norbert's excited roar, and a whiff of…sulfurous fresh air.
"Welcome to the new world, Norbert."
Julian whispered, his eyes gleaming with ambition.
Chapter 76: Temptation
Hogwarts in February was still biting with cold winds, but inside the Library, it was as warm as spring—perhaps even a bit stifling.
Madam Pince's stern gaze swept through the bookshelves like a searchlight; any student who dared to breathe too loudly would receive a warning from her feather duster.
Julian sat in a secluded corner by the window, a few ancient tomes as thick as bricks piled before him: "Reconstruction and Repair of Magic Circuits," "Philosophical Paradoxes of Spatial Dimensions," and an extremely obscure "Meditation Techniques of Ancient Greek Wizards."
Although the ritual that night had been a success, the aftereffects were more troublesome than he had anticipated.
His Sea of Magic was now like a precision instrument that had just endured an earthquake; while it was still functioning, a faint, stinging pain would flare up from time to time, reminding him not to overexert himself.
Now, he had to find a gentle way to re-sort those chaotic flows of magic.
"I knew you'd be here."
A slightly hurried voice, tinged with suppressed anger, broke Julian's contemplation.
He didn't look up, merely turning a page of his book with unhurried deliberation, his finger lightly tracing a line describing "Aetheric Resonance."
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger. If you're here to ask for the bibliography for the Transfiguration homework, I believe you should head to the third row of shelves."
Hermione Granger stood across the table, fuming, clutching a stack of books that nearly blocked her chin.
Her hair was even bushier than usual, clearly due to the static electricity from her hurried run, or perhaps from being driven mad by some difficult problem.
"I'm not here to ask about homework, Rosier."
The stack of books was set down heavily—though she controlled the force before Madam Pince could snap—on the table with a dull thud.
Then, like an interrogator, she pulled out a chair and sat opposite Julian, her brown eyes staring fixedly at him.
"Where have you been lately?"
Julian finally looked up, his grey eyes carrying just the right amount of confusion and weariness.
"I don't follow. I've been attending classes, eating, sleeping, and occasionally fulfilling my prefect duties by docking a few points from Gryffindor."
"Don't play dumb!" Hermione lowered her voice, leaning forward like a bristling little lion. "You weren't at Astronomy Class last Friday night, no one saw you for the entire day on Saturday, and even Daphne Greengrasswas missing! And..."
She gestured toward the pile of books in front of Julian.
"'Philosophical Paradoxes of Spatial Dimensions'? This is content that might not even be covered in the seventh-year N.E.W.T. exams! And this one, about repairing magiccircuits... are you injured? Or are you performing some dangerous magical experiment?"
Julian looked at her.
He had to admit, this girl was terrifyingly sharp.
If she used this cleverness for the right purposes, she would be an absolute genius; but if she used it for surveillance, it was a bit of a headache.
He closed the book, interlaced his fingers on the table, and a playful smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
"Miss Granger, are you stalking me? I didn't realize I occupied such an important place in your heart."
Hermione's face instantly flushed bright red, all the way to the tips of her ears.
"Who... who's stalking you! I just... I just happened to notice! And I'm doing this for the safety of the school! If you're doing something against the rules..."
"Against the rules?" Julian chuckled, interrupting her. "Define 'against the rules', Hermione. Is it casting spells in the corridors? Or sneaking into the kitchen for a snack late at night? Or..."
He leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them, his voice becoming low and magnetic.
"...or is it trying to understand truths that haven't been written into the textbooks yet?"
Hermione froze. She had prepared a whole stomachful of interrogations and admonishments, but under Julian's gaze—which seemed to see through everything—she couldn't say a single word.
"What... what do you mean?"
Julian pulled his wand from his pocket—the Ebony Wand, its body still smooth and cold, though his current magical state was not suited for major activity.
"Watch." Julian didn't chant; he simply placed the wand gently on the table and then extended a long finger, hovering it over the stack of books Hermione had brought.
He was mobilizing the last trace of Spatial Magicremaining in his body.
It was a gift left by the ritual, but also a burden.
"Wingardium Leviosa? No, that's too basic."
Julian said softly.
As his finger hooked slightly, no characteristic magical fluctuation of the Levitation Charm appeared in the air.
Instead, to Hermione's surprise, the space around the stack of books seemed to warp slightly.
It was like looking at an object through fire.
Immediately after, the book on top, "Hogwarts: A History," didn't float up; it simply "fell" into mid-air.
Yes, fell.
It was as if the direction of gravity at that position had suddenly been altered.
The book flipped in the air, its pages fluttering open automatically, finally stopping on a page about the legends of the Room of Requirement.
"This... what is this?" Hermione's eyes widened, her mouth slightly agape, completely forgetting that she had come to demand answers. "That's not the Levitation Charm... no light, no incantation... how did you do it? Wandless Magic? Or a Non-verbal Spell?"
"Neither."
Julian withdrew his hand, his face turning a shade paler, though he hid it well.
"This is a fine-tuning of the rules, Hermione."
He leaned back into his chair, resuming his languid posture.
"Textbooks tell you that if you want a feather to fly, you must recite an incantation, wave a wand, and pay attention to the pronunciation being 'gar' and not 'ga'. But that is only the surface."
"True magic is understanding why it flies. Is it because of gravity? Is it because of the element of wind? Or is it because you deceived space, making it believe the feather was supposed to be there all along?"
Hermione felt her brain trembling.
This completely overturned the entire knowledge system she had learned in class over the past six months.
Professor Flitwick taught technique, Professor McGonagall taught rigor, but Julian...
That extreme thirst for knowledge instantly overwhelmed her suspicion and sense of justice.
Like a knowledge-hungry student, she asked eagerly, "How do you understand these things? It's never been written in books! This... this is incredible!"
"Because books are written for ordinary people." Julianpointed to his head. "And geniuses are responsible for writing the books."
Looking at Hermione's sparkling eyes, he knew that for her, nothing was more tempting than unknown knowledge.
Even if that knowledge came from a dangerous Slytherin.
"As for where I've been these past few days..." Julianpaused intentionally, revealing a mysterious smile, "I was verifying a hypothesis regarding how to construct a stable Magic Field without using a wand."
"Like that just now?" Hermione pressed.
"That? That was just a failure." Julian shrugged. "The real finished product... perhaps one day I'll show it to you, but on the condition..."
He leaned close to Hermione again, this time close enough to smell the faint scent of parchment and ink on her.
"...on the condition that you learn to keep your mouth shut, Miss Granger. Some knowledge is dangerous; it doesn't like being known by too many people."
Chapter 77: Valentine's Day
Hermione looked at the handsome face so close to her, and her heart couldn't help but skip a beat.
She nodded subconsciously, as if bewitched by some kind of spell.
"I... I won't go around talking. As long as... as long as you teach me."
"Teach you?" Julian raised an eyebrow. "Slytherin's knowledge is quite expensive."
"I can help you write your Potion Class essays!" Hermioneblurted out, then immediately regretted it.
"No, that's cheating... I mean, I can help you organize data! Or... or other academic assistance!"
Julian couldn't help but laugh out loud.
This girl was really a bit too cute.
"Deal." He reached out and gently patted the top of Hermione's bushy head.
"But forget about the essays; I don't like Professor Snapenitpicking. Keep an eye out for books in the Restricted Section regarding Ancient Runes variants for me, if Madam Pince isn't paying attention..."
"You're instigating me to break school rules!" Hermioneglared at him, but her tone had completely lost its previous sharp edge, instead carrying a hint of playful annoyance.
"This is academic research, Hermione. For the sake of truth, bypassing the rules a tiny bit can be forgiven."
Julian stood up and packed his books on the table.
Although his magic hadn't recovered yet, his mood was much better.
To win over a smart Witch, sometimes all you need is to show her a glimpse of the other side of the world.
"I'm heading back; Daphne is still waiting for me." Julianintentionally mentioned Daphne's name, observing Hermione's reaction.
Sure enough, the light in Hermione's eyes dimmed slightly, but it was quickly masked by stubbornness.
"Alright. Goodbye, Rosier."
"Call me Julian."
Julian left behind this meaningful remark and turned to walk into the shadows deep within the bookshelves.
Watching his back disappear, Hermione sat there in a daze for a good while.
She reached out to touch the spot Julian had just patted; her cheeks felt a little hot.
"Gravity inversion... spatial deception..." she murmured to herself, pulling a small notebook from her pocket and quickly recording every detail from just now.
"Just how many secrets is he hiding?"
...
Back at the Slytherin Dungeon.
As soon as he entered, a wave of warmth washed over him.
Daphne was sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace, holding that black magical necklace, seemingly "communicating" with Norbert inside.
Seeing Julian return, she immediately looked up, a gentle smile appearing on her face.
"Back? That Gryffindor know-it-all didn't give you any trouble, did she?"
"Quite the opposite." Julian took off his outer robe, threw it on the sofa, and walked over to sit down beside her.
"She's probably busy in the Library right now looking for theories on'space'; I doubt she'll be getting any sleep tonight."
"You're fooling people again." Daphne leaned her head on his shoulder, her fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt.
"Shh—" Julian smiled and kissed the top of her head. "It's called branding, darling. Sometimes, a sense of mystery is more useful than the plain truth."
Daphne gave a soft huff and handed him the necklace.
"Norbert really likes his new home; he was just breathing fire inside to celebrate. But... he seems hungry."
Julian took the necklace, feeling the hungry intent coming from within.
"It seems our expenses are going to increase again." Julian sighed, though his tone didn't carry much worry. "Meat, brandy, and it has to be premium grade."
"By the way, Valentine's Day is coming up," Daphne said suddenly, her finger drawing circles on his chest. "Even though we can't go to Hogsmeade, I heard there will be a meteor shower that day."
"A meteor shower?" Julian blinked, then thought of something.
The Astronomy Tower.
It was the highest point in the school and the best location to watch a meteor shower.
However, there would surely be many couples sneaking up there that night.
"Do you want to go see it?" Julian asked.
"I do." Daphne looked up, her blue eyes full of anticipation. "With you."
"Then we'll go." Julian held her hand. "Even Filch and his cat won't be able to stop us."
On Valentine's Day itself.
Although that grinning idiot Lockhart wouldn't arrive until next year to turn this holiday into a disaster...
...it was clear that the young Wizards in their adolescent awakening needed no instigation to spontaneously turn this ancient Castle into a massive mating ground.
The Great Hall during dinner was simply unbearable to look at.
Crude paper cranes were flying everywhere, some even sprayed with cheap perfume.
Over at the Gryffindor table, Fred and George were trying to add Amortentia to Ron's mashed potatoes, only to be caught red-handed by Percy, sparking a small-scale food fight.
Julian elegantly cut the veal steak on his plate, oblivious to the surrounding clamor.
Daphne sat beside him; today she had specially put on a dark green velvet headband, tying her long blonde hair behind her head to reveal her slender, pale neck.
She gently kicked Julian's shin under the table, her eyes darting toward the staff table.
Professor Snape was staring with a dark face at a couple at the Hufflepuff table who were openly feeding each other, his expression as if he were contemplating whether to slice them up into Potion ingredients or just feed them to the Giant Squid.
"Filch will be patrolling the third and fourth floors tonight." Julian wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin, his voice so low only Daphne could hear. "His cat seems to have developed rheumatism lately; she can't run fast."
"Professor McGonagall is grading Transfiguration essays; the light in her office usually stays on until twelve."
Daphne followed up understandingly, a mischievous smile curling at the corner of her mouth. "As for Dumbledore... I imagine he's still troubled by a toothache from that habit of eating only sweets."
The two shared a smile; that unspoken understanding was exceptionally unique amidst the noisy crowd.
...
Eleven o'clock at night.
The Castle had fallen into a deep sleep, with only the knights in the portraits occasionally letting out a mumble in their dreams.
The stone wall of the Slytherin Dungeon slid open silently, and two figures wrapped in black cloaks slipped out like ghosts.
Julian didn't use the Disillusionment Charm; while that spell was stealthy, it created a slight light distortion when moving, making one a sitting duck for a creature like Madam Norris who was exceptionally sensitive to magical fluctuations.
He chose a more ancient, simpler, but more effective method—utilizing the environment.
"This way."
Holding Daphne's hand, he skillfully navigated the damp corridors of the Dungeons, stopping abruptly at a corner to hide them both in the shadow of a One-Eyed Witch Statue.
A few seconds later, Filch's characteristic shuffling footsteps and heavy wheezing came from the stairs ahead.
"Damned students... muddy footprints everywhere... if I catch them..."
Filch held up his dim oil lamp, with that scrawny cat following at his heels, her bulb-like eyes scanning the surroundings alertly.
Daphne held her breath, her body pressed tightly against Julian; she could feel the steady, powerful heartbeat in Julian's chest, which gave her an inexplicable sense of security.
Once the footsteps faded away, Julian gently squeezed her palm.
"Go."
They were like two agile black cats, silently flitting across the moving staircases and through the corridors lined with suits of armor, heading all the way up.
Chapter 78: Meteor
When they finally pushed open the heavy oak door of the Astronomy Tower, a biting cold wind mixed with snowflakes rushed at them, instantly dispelling the stuffiness brought from the Dungeons.
The top of the tower was empty.
Overhead stretched a vast and boundless starry sky. Although it was winter, tonight's night sky was exceptionally clear, the Milky Way spanning the heavens like a dazzling diamond belt.
"So beautiful..."
Daphne walked to the crenellations at the tower's edge, her hands resting on the icy stone wall as she looked down upon the slumbering Hogwarts below.
The Black Lake resembled a massive obsidian mirror, reflecting scattered starlight; the canopy of the Forbidden Forest swayed in the wind, producing a roar like ocean waves.
"If you ignore the temperature that could freeze your ears off, it is indeed beautiful."
Julian walked up behind her, unfastened his own cloak, and wrapped it around both of them.
He drew his wand and gently traced a circle in the air around them.
"Calvoris Presidium."
A transparent hemispherical barrier enveloped their corner, instantly cutting off the cold wind. The surrounding air became as warm as spring.
"You always have to ruin the mood," Daphne turned around, leaning her back against the crenellations, her arms encircling Julian's waist as she looked up at him. "But I like your pragmatism."
"pragmatism is to let the romance last a little longer."
Julian looked down at her.
Starlight fell on Daphne's face, gilding her profile with a soft silver edge. Her eyes reflected the entire starry sky, but the brightest focus within them was always him.
"Look, it's starting."
Julian pointed towards the southeastern sky.
A meteor streaked across the night sky, dragging a long fiery tail, vanishing in an instant.
Then came a second, a third...
The Monoceros meteor shower arrived as scheduled. They were like a silent firework display, blooming and falling in the quiet night sky.
"They say making a wish on a shooting star is effective," Daphne said softly, but she didn't close her eyes to make a wish. She was still looking at Julian.
"Slytherins don't believe in luck, Daphne. We only believe in what we can grasp in our hands."
Julian released one hand, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small dark green velvet box.
"Like this."
Daphne's breath hitched slightly.
Julian opened the box.
Inside lay two silver Rings.
They weren't like ordinary jewelry set with huge diamonds or gemstones. The bands had a fluid, liquid metal texture, their surfaces intricately engraved with hair-thin Ancient Runes.
On the inner side of the Rings, a faint, dark red glow was visible—the color of dragon's blood fused with spatial magic.
"These are..." Daphne gasped, covering her mouth in surprise.
"Twin Resonance Rings," Julian said, taking out the smaller one and taking Daphne's left hand.
"The material came from the spatial residue left over when we reforged the necklace in the Room of Requirement that day, fused with a melted Goblin silver coin."
He slowly slid the Ring onto Daphne's ring finger.
The fit was perfect.
The moment the Ring settled at the base of her finger, Daphne felt a warm current flow from her finger and instantly spread throughout her entire body.
It wasn't ordinary warmth, but a rhythm... a heartbeat.
Thump, thump, thump.
It was Julian's heartbeat.
"It connects our magical circuits," Julian said, putting the other Ring on his own finger, then raising his hand and intertwining his fingers with Daphne's.
As the two Rings touched, the runes on them instantly glowed with a faint silver light before fading away.
"No matter where we are, if you twist this Ring, I'll be able to sense your location. If you're injured, or if your emotions fluctuate violently, this Ring will grow warm."
Julian's voice was low and serious, as if reciting a contract.
"It doesn't have any fancy defensive functions. It has only one purpose—to let me know you're alive and that you're by my side."
Daphne looked at the Ring on her hand, her eyes slightly reddening.
For a Slytherin constantly embroiled in power strugglesand intricate schemes, this sense of security from "sensing each other's presence" was far more precious than any expensive jewelry.
It was a promise.
A promise that in this world full of betrayal and lies, they would never lose each other.
"You're a cunning bastard, Rosier."
Daphne sniffled, her voice tinged with emotion.
"Are you putting a collar on me?"
"If you insist on seeing it that way," Julian raised an eyebrow. "But, this is my collar too."
He shook the Ring on his own hand.
"Fair trade."
"To hell with your fair trade."
Daphne suddenly rose on her toes, hooked her arms around Julian's neck, and kissed him fiercely.
The meteor shower fell silently overhead, bearing witness to this moment of madness and tenderness.
After a long while, Daphne leaned against Julian's chest, her fingers gently stroking the Ring, feeling the warmth emanating from within—Julian's warmth.
"Julian."
"Hmm?"
"If one day, you have to fight the whole world..." Daphne's voice was soft, yet exceptionally firm, "remember to take me with you."
"Of course," Julian kissed her forehead. "Without you, who would help me dispose of the bodies?"
Daphne burst out laughing and punched his arm.
"Mood ruiner."
Just then, hurried footsteps and muffled arguing suddenly came from below.
"Hurry! Penelope! I think I heard someone up there!"
"Don't be silly, Percy! It's freezing up there, who would go there!"
Julian and Daphne exchanged a glance, their expressions instantly shifting from tenderness to alertness.
"It's that prefect from the Weasley family," Julianrecognized that prim and proper voice.
"And the Ravenclaw female prefect," Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Who would have thought that rule-quoting bookworm would learn to roam the halls at night?"
The footsteps grew closer, reaching the final level of the spiral staircase.
"Hide?" Daphne asked.
"Unnecessary."
A mischievous smile played on Julian's lips.
He waved his wand, dispelling the warming charm, then pulled Daphne to hide behind a large armillary spherenear the tower entrance.
A few seconds later, the door was pushed open.
Percy Weasley, holding his wand, peered in with a serious expression, followed by a visibly annoyed Penelope Clearwater.
"Who's there? Come out!" Percy shouted, trying to project the authority of a Head Boy (even though he wasn't one yet).
The tower top was empty, only the howling wind remained.
"I told you no one was here!" Penelope complained, hugging herself and shivering. If not for their friendship, she really wouldn't have come.
"It's freezing, Percy! You dragging me here to see some meteors is insane!"
Percy scratched his head awkwardly. "But... the books say this is the most romantic..."
"Achoo!" Penelope let out a loud sneeze. "Romantic my foot! I'm going back! If you make another stupid suggestion like this, I'll deduct points from Gryffindor!"
Compared to Julian, the Percy before her was a complete fool. After shooting him a glare, Penelope turned and stormed down the stairs.
"Penelope! Wait!" Percy frantically chased after her, even forgetting to close the door.
Hiding behind the armillary sphere, Julian and Daphnecould no longer hold back, covering their mouths as they dissolved into silent laughter.
"Seems the Gryffindor romantic genes were eaten by a Troll," Daphne said, laughing so hard tears nearly came to her eyes.
"Let's go."
Julian took Daphne's hand, and while the two unlucky souls were still entangled on the stairs, they slipped away silently.
Chapter 79: Conflict
In late February, the sky seemed shrouded by a giant, grimy grey cloth soaked with dirty water.
A relentless, cold rain beat against Hogwarts' window frames, producing an irritating sound.
The air inside the Castle was damp and sticky, beads of moisture seeping from the walls as if the ancient structure were sweating cold.
This kind of weather was most conducive to breeding mold, as well as pent-up, Unvented anger (malice with no outlet).
For Draco Malfoy, these past few days had been sheer hell.
First, there was that damned Potter. Ever since catching the Golden Snitch, he carried around a sickening 'chosen one' aura wherever he went.
Worst of all, despite not having a terrible background himself, he spent all his time either hanging out with mudbloods or consorting with Pure-blood family traitors.
Secondly, and most intolerable of all—Julian Rosier.
That fellow, always wearing a hypocritical smile, had recently acquired a silver ring on his finger.
And what was even more glaring was that Daphne Greengrass wore an identical one on her hand.
In the context of Pure-blood families, such a pair of rings, engraved with ancient runes, typically signified a formal, unbreakable pact, even a prelude to a marriage contract.
Why him?
The House of Malfoy was the uncrowned king of Slytherin! *He* should be the one everyone fawned over!
Jealousy, like a cold, venomous serpent, gnawed at Draco's already none-too-sturdy reason.
...
Third floor, the corridor outside the Trophy Room.
Harry and Ron, arms laden with books, were heading back to their common room when three figures blocked their path.
Draco leaned against the wall, twirling his Hawthorn Wand, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle who stood like two slabs of meat.
"Well, well, look who it is?"
Draco drawled in his characteristic tone, his grey eyes brimming with malicious glee.
"The famous Potter, and his pauper sidekick Weasley. Come to admire Potter's dead daddy's trophy? Pity. A trophy can't save a life, nor can it buy even a decent wand."
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ron's face instantly flushed as red as his hair, his hand already diving into his robe pocket. "Don't you dare insult Harry's parents!"
"What? Looking for a fight?" Draco sneered, provocativepointing at Ron's old wand with its protruding Unicornhair. "With that broken stick? I'll wager a Knut it'll singe your own eyebrows off first."
Harry grabbed the impulsive Ron's arm, green eyes blazing with anger. "Move aside, Malfoy. We don't want any trouble."
"Don't want trouble? Seems to me you're scared, Potter!" Draco took a step forward, aggressive (aggressively).
"Everyone calls you the chosen one, but I think you're just a coward hiding behind Dumbledore's robes! Have you got the guts to duel like a real Wizard?!"
"Any time!" Harry blurted out, youthful Passion (hot blood) unable to endure such humiliation.
"Is this what you call Pure-blood glory? Like two tomcats in heat scratching at each other in the middle of the night?"
A cool, clear voice suddenly interjected, like a bucket of ice water dousing the tension among the group.
From the shadows at the end of the corridor, Julianstepped out leisurely.
He wore his impeccably tailored Slytherin uniform, his tie knotted flawlessly.
Daphne stood to the side with her arms crossed, a faint, mocking smile playing on her lips. Her gaze swept over Malfoy as if looking at a petulant child.
"Rosier..." Draco's expression shifted, and he subconsciously lowered his wand, but the jealousy and hatred in his eyes deepened. "This is none of your business! This is a private matter between me and Potter!"
"Private matter?"
Julian walked up to Draco, looking down at him.
Though only half a head taller, the oppressive feeling(pressure) emanating from his very bones made Dracoinvoluntarily take half a step back.
"You are the Malfoy heir, Draco. Getting caught brawling in the corridor by Filch, losing House points, serving detention... is that the outcome you desire?"
Julian reached out and straightened Draco's slightly askew collar, his tone cold enough to freeze.
"Slytherin seeks power and results, not the foolhardy bravado of those idiotic Gryffindor lions. If you want to prove you're better than Potter, defeat him fairly in front of everyone. Don't skulk around like a petty thief."
Draco bit his lip, face pale. "Then what do you suggest? The school forbids private duels!"
"The school forbids *unregulated* private duels."
Julian turned to face Harry and Ron.
"Since you're all so full of energy, why don't we play for higher stakes?"
A playful curve lifted the corner of his mouth.
"I will apply to Professor Snape to host a 'Defense Against the Dark Arts Practical Exchange'. Since Professor Quirrell only teaches you how to fumigate lizards with garlic, I'll show you how real Wizards fight."
"Do you dare to come, Potter? Or is Malfoy right? Are you just a chosen one in name only?"
Harry clenched his fists, meeting Julian's deep, fathomless grey eyes.
"I'll be there."
...
Half an hour later, the Dungeon Office.
Snape sat behind his desk, his hollow (hollow) black eyes fixed intently on Julian as if trying to see through his soul.
"You're saying you want to organize a group of first-years to attack each other with wands? Rosier, has your brain become infested with Flitterbloom?"
"Not attack each other, Professor. Supervised defensive practice."
Julian stood before the desk, composed as if he weren't facing Hogwarts' most terrifying Professor.
"The atmosphere in the Castle has been tense lately. Conflicts between Gryffindor and Slytherin have escalated from verbal sparring to shoving matches."
"Rather than have them hexing each other in the corridors and blowing up toilets, it's better to gather them together to vent their excess energy under your supervision."
"And..." Julian lowered his voice slightly, leaning forward a little.
"It's also an excellent opportunity to demonstrate Slytherin superiority. To show everyone the vast gap, under your tutelage, between us and those fools who only know how to wave sticks."
This remark clearly struck a chord with Snape.
He remained silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on Julian for a second.
"If you send even one person to the Hospital Wing, Rosier, I will have you scrubbing every single Potion Cauldron for the rest of the term. And no Dark Arts."
"Oh, Professor, what are you implying? I'm just a first-year student. How could I possibly know any Dark Arts?" Julian's tone was exaggerated, as if discussing something earth-shattering.
Chapter 80: The Duel
With Snape's tacit approval, an abandoned classroom on the first floor was quickly cleared out for temporary use.
News spread faster than the flu. Not only Slytherin and Gryffindor, but many from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw also came to watch the spectacle.
The vast majority of those who came were young Wizards from years 1 to 3, though a few older students who enjoyed a good show were mixed in.
A long, rectangular clearing was made in the center of the classroom to serve as the dueling platform.
Julian stood in the center of the platform. He had taken off his outer robe, wearing only a white shirt and trousers, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his sturdy forearms.
He casually twirled his ebony wand in his hand, looking as relaxed as if he were attending an afternoon tea.
Daphne sat at the referee's table nearby—really just an old desk—holding a piece of parchment to keep the record. Her eyes never left Julian, following him with undisguised pride.
"Alright, quiet."
Julian's voice was not loud, but amplified by a Sonorus Charm, it clearly reached every corner of the room.
The previously noisy crowd instantly fell silent.
"Since this is a duel, we follow rules. Bow, raise your wands, count down, cast. Only barbarians resort to sneak attacks."
He looked at Draco standing on his left, and Harry on his right.
"First match: Malfoy versus Potter. Only the Disarming Charm, the Full-Body Bind Curse, and the Impediment Jinx are permitted. The winner is whoever renders their opponent unable to fight or knocks them off the platform."
Draco stepped onto the platform, head held high, his face wearing that trademark arrogant expression.
"Watch this, Potter. I'll make you cry for your mother."
Harry didn't speak. He just gripped his wand tightly, his palm slick with sweat. He glanced at Hermione and Ronin the crowd, who were giving him nervous thumbs-up.
"Bow!" Julian commanded.
The two bowed stiffly, not even looking each other in the eye.
"Three... two... one... begin!"
"Rictusempra!" Harry shouted.
A silver light hit Draco in the stomach. He staggered, almost bursting into laughter, but fought through the discomfort and retaliated with a jinx.
"Tarantallegra!"
Harry's legs immediately began an uncontrollable tap dance, making him hop around the platform like a ridiculous puppet.
A wave of laughter erupted from the onlookers, loudest from the Slytherin side.
"Finish him, Draco!" Pansy Parkinson shrieked.
Flushed with impending victory, Draco raised his wand triumphantly. He remembered the books on the Dark Artshis father kept hidden in the study.
"Serpensortia!"
A loud bang erupted from his wand tip, and a long black snake landed on the floor between them. It reared its head, ready to strike.
The crowd screamed and backed away.
Harry froze. Looking at the snake, a strange instinct surged within him. He was about to speak (in Parseltongue)—
"Vanish."
A cold voice cut through the air.
Julian merely gave a slight flick of his wand, not even uttering an incantation.
Just as the black snake lunged at Harry, it dissolved into a wisp of black smoke and vanished completely.
Dead silence fell over the room.
Julian strode over and grabbed Draco's wrist, his grip so tight Draco cried out in pain.
"I said, basic spells only. Summoning a Dark creature? Were you trying to kill him, Malfoy?"
Julian's voice was as cold as a Siberian wind.
"I... I just..." Draco stammered, trying to defend himself, cowed by Julian's imposing presence.
"It seems you need a demonstration."
Julian released Draco and turned to face the entire room.
"Who thinks they're the strongest? Step up."
The crowd stirred, but no one moved. That silent Vanishing Spell had been executed too cleanly—a technique even upper-years might struggle with.
"No one? Then you, McLaggen." Julian pointed at a tall boy from Gryffindor, Cormac McLaggen, notorious for his arrogance.
McLaggen was taken aback, but for the sake of his pride, he steeled himself and walked forward.
"Ready?" Julian didn't even assume a defensive stance, merely stood there with his wand hanging loosely.
"Expelliarmus!" McLaggen roared, a red jet of light shooting straight for Julian's face.
Julian simply shifted his weight slightly, his movement as graceful as a waltz. The red light grazed past his hair and struck the wall behind him.
Immediately, before McLaggen could utter a second spell, Julian gave an almost imperceptible flick of his wrist.
No incantation.
*Thud!*
McLaggen was thrown backward as if hit by an invisible truck. His wand flew from his hand, arced through the air, and landed perfectly in Julian's grasp.
The room erupted in astonished murmurs.
A silent Disarming Charm! And instantaneous!
This was a technique first-years wouldn't dare dream of.
Julian casually tossed the wand back to the dazed and disoriented McLaggen.
"That's the difference."
He scanned the room, his gaze finally settling on Draco, whose face had gone pale.
"A Wizard's strength isn't about how many vicious curses you know, but how fast your mind works and how stable your magic is. Waving your wand around like that just makes you look like you're conducting an orchestra."
He walked over to Draco and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Do you want to learn, Draco? Or do you just want to keep playing with snakes and get beaten by the chosen one?"
Draco looked at Julian. The jealousy in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a mix of fear and intense longing.
This was power.
Absolute, overwhelming power.
"I want to learn," Draco said, lowering his head. His voice was soft, but clear.
"Good."
A satisfied smile appeared on Julian's face.
He turned to look at Harry.
"What about you, Harry? Your footwork may resemble a drunken duck's, but your reaction speed isn't bad. Do you want to get stronger? To... protect the people you care about?"
Harry got up from the floor, rubbing his still-cramping leg. He looked at Julian. Even though he was a Slytherin, which rankled Harry, he had to admit that last move had been incredibly cool.
"I'll get stronger," Harry said through gritted teeth. "Stronger than you."
"Ambitious," Julian chuckled lightly. "Then from now on, I'm in charge here every Friday night. If you want to learn real skill, come. If you want to play house, go back to your common room."
With that, he threw on his robe, took the hand of Daphne—who had been watching him with starry eyes the whole time—and strode out of the classroom under the crowd's awed gazes.
In a corner, Snape, who had been observing under an Invisibility Cloak, revealed himself.
He watched Julian's retreating back. The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly—an extremely rare, minuscule, yet approving curve.
"Interesting..."
Chapter 81: the key of dimensions
Ever since that dueling exchange, Julian's days at school had become exceptionally lively.
In the corridors, young Wizards from his year would always sneak glances at him, trying to imitate his casual wand-waving motions.
When Malfoy saw him now, that arrogance of his had toned down considerably.
But Julian's focus wasn't on that.
"Rosier... Julian, you need to see this."
In a corner of the Library, Hermione Granger, clutching three brick-thick volumes of 'Advanced Arithmancy,' hurriedly sat down opposite Julian.
"I've searched through all the books in the general section. The descriptions of non-Euclidean space foldingare all too vague. They only mention the results, completely ignoring the waveform consumption of magic during dimensional transformation."
Hermione lowered her voice, her tone carrying a particular anxiety unique to academic enthusiasts.
Julian turned a page of 'Medieval Heraldry' and replied without looking up, "That's because the authors themselves didn't understand it, Hermione.
For most Wizards, Space Magic is 'Apparition' or the 'Undetectable Extension Charm.' They don't need to understand the topological logic behind it."
"But I do!" Hermione tapped the table urgently, then glanced around warily. Leaning forward, her voice became as faint as a mosquito's hum, "I asked Harry... he has something. A very, very rare cloak. He agreed to lend it to me for one night."
Julian finally looked up, a flicker of interest in his grey eyes.
"An invisibility cloak?"
"Shh!" Hermione nervously covered his mouth with her hand. Her palm carried a faint scent of ink and a dry feel from years of turning pages.
Realizing her action was somewhat overstepping, she jerked her hand back as if shocked, a blush coloring her cheeks.
"Yes. I know there's a book in the Restricted Sectioncalled 'the key of dimensions.' It's a manuscript left by a Ravenclaw master from the 12th century. If we can get it, your theory about 'subspace ecological stability' could achieve a perfect closed loop."
Hermione took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for a huge decision.
"Tonight at eleven, at the Library entrance. You... dare you come?"
Julian looked into her eyes, filled with a thirst for knowledge and a hint of unease.
This 'good student,' who had never been willing to break school rules, was actually deciding to take a risk to help him perfect his magical theory.
"Why not?" Julian closed his book, a playful smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "But, Miss Granger, does this count as our first 'academic adventure' together?"
"Th-this is just for research!" Hermione shot him an annoyed, flustered glare, gathered her books, and fled in a hurry.
...
Eleven o'clock at night, the Library corridor.
Most of the torches here had been extinguished, with only the occasional flickering ember illuminating the portraits of knights sleeping askew on the walls.
Julian leaned against the shadow of a stone pillar. He could clearly perceive the spatial fluctuations around him.
Just then, the air before him twisted slightly. A pale, small hand suddenly reached out from the void and grabbed his robe.
"Quick, get in!"
Hermione's voice came from the air.
Julian obediently stepped forward. The next moment, a fabric, cool and light as water, draped over his shoulders.
Although he had experienced it once before, the invisibility cloak still felt cramped to Julian.
Especially for two developing teenagers who weren't exactly short. To prevent their ankles from showing, Hermione had to press herself tightly against Julian.
"Don't move... Harry said if the cloak isn't covering us properly, we could be discovered."
Hermione's voice was right by Julian's ear.
Her bushy hair brushed against Julian's neck, tickling him slightly, carrying the scent of citrus shampoo.
Nervous, her breathing became rapid, her chest rising and falling, occasionally bumping against Julian's arm.
"You're too tense, Hermione. Your heartbeat is loud enough to wake Madam Pince's portrait." Julian teased in a low voice, casually wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer into his embrace to ensure both were completely covered by the cloak.
"I... this is my first time doing something like this." Hermione's body stiffened for a moment but then gradually relaxed as she leaned against Julian's chest.
This posture was very intimate. In the cramped, dim, and silent space under the cloak, their senses were infinitely heightened.
Julian could feel Hermione's rising body temperature and her slightly trembling breath from shyness.
"Let's go, explorer."
Leading her, Julian moved like two invisible ghosts, avoiding Filch who was patrolling the first floor.
The Library doors were locked tight, but to Julian, such a physical lock was practically useless.
He didn't even use his wand. Just a light swipe of his finger over the keyhole, a faint spatial vibration directly shifted the lock core.
*Click.*
The two slipped inside.
The Restricted Section was located at the very back of the Library, separated by a heavy iron gate. The shelves here held ancient books with sentience, some even cursed.
"Over there... third row, top shelf."
Hermione pointed to a dust-covered corner.
They moved cautiously. Julian could feel the waves of chilly air emanating from the Restricted Section. The pages seemed to whisper in the darkness, trying to lure passing souls.
"Found it."
Hermione reached out and pulled a tattered parchment scroll from between the shelves. Its cover was engraved with strange geometric patterns.
The moment the book was pulled free, it suddenly let out a piercing shriek!
"Aah—!!!"
The sound echoed through the empty Library, unbearably shrill.
"Oh no! It's a Shrieking Charm!" Hermione turned pale with fright, her hand trembling so much she almost dropped the parchment.
"Don't panic."
Julian reacted swiftly. He firmly pressed down on Hermione's hand holding the scroll and, with his other hand, drew his wand, pointing it at the book's spine.
"Muffliato! Silencio!"
The shrieking stopped abruptly, trapped within a small sound field.
But hurried footsteps were already approaching from the corridor outside.
"Who's there? Come out! I heard you!" Filch's raspy, unpleasant voice grew closer and closer.
"What do we do? We're going to be caught!" Hermionewas on the verge of tears, clutching the collar of Julian's shirt tightly, practically shrinking into his embrace.
Julian calmly surveyed their surroundings.
"Come with me."
Pulling Hermione along, he didn't run for the doors. Instead, he rushed towards the deepest, dead-end corner of the Restricted Section.
"There's no way out there!"
"For me, there are paths everywhere."
Julian wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist, lifting her up and holding her firmly against him. He closed his eyes, sensing the structure behind the Library walls.
"Hold on tight."
Magic surged wildly through the Twin Rings.
"Spatial Translocation."
Chapter 82: Quirrell in Action
A slight wave of dizziness washed over her. Hermione felt as if the surrounding air had been compressed for a second, and then the scene before her eyes instantly transformed.
When she opened her eyes again, they were standing in a disused lavatory on the periphery of the Library.
"We... got out?" Hermione asked shakily, looking around, still clutching the scroll of the key of dimensions tightly in her arms.
"Safe for now," Julian said, releasing his hold and looking down at the frightened little Witch in his arms.
Hermione looked rather disheveled. Her hair was a mess, her school uniform collar was askew from the earlier struggle, and she was breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed bright red from excitement and lingering fear.
She looked up at Julian, and in her eyes, beyond the fear, was an unprecedented level of admiration.
"What you did just now... was that Apparition? No, with a lower-year's magical power, that shouldn't be possible... Julian, how on earth did you do that?"
"A little trick," Julian replied, reaching out to gently brush aside a stray lock of hair from her forehead.
Hermione stared at him blankly. In that moment, the forbidden thrill of breaking rules, the excitement of the adventure, and the powerful allure emanating from the boy before her intertwined into an emotion she couldn't resist.
She suddenly took a step forward and, without warning, planted a kiss on Julian's cheek.
The soft sensation was there and gone in an instant.
"That's... a thank you for the book," she stammered, her face reddening, before quickly throwing the invisibility cloak back over herself and vanishing into the darkness. "See you tomorrow, Julian!"
Julian touched his cheek, looked at the now-empty lavatory, and a meaningful curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.
It seems this Little Squirrel has completely fallen into the trap.
He looked down at the Ring on his hand. Although the spatial movement just now had been brief, some kind of fluctuation emitted by the key of dimensions seemed to have resonated with the Ring.
He unrolled the tattered Parchment scroll. On the last page, he saw a note written in Ancient Runes:
"The end of space is not emptiness, but the extension of will. To establish an eternal domain, one must use the flame of the soul as a guide."
"The flame of the soul, huh..."
Julian murmured quietly, his gaze gradually growing profound.
...
"Julian, you came back very late last night."
Daphne, sitting across from him, put down her mug of Hot Cocoa and fixed her eyes intently on Julian.
She was wearing a shirt with lace-trimmed collar today, looking especially aloof. The Twin Ring on her finger shimmered faintly, conveying an emotion called suspicion.
"Got lost in my research, you know how it is. Those old tomes in the Restricted Section can be quite stubborn," Julian lied smoothly, even casually buttering a piece of toast for Daphne and handing it to her. "What, sensed my heart racing?"
Daphne took the toast, let out a light hum, and her gaze swept over to the Gryffindor table.
Hermione currently had her head buried in a thick copy of *Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2*, looking like a startled ostrich, not even daring to glance towards the Slytherin table.
"I could practically hear her heartbeat from the corridor next door," Daphne said in a lowered voice, a hint of dangerous amusement in her tone. "It seems last night's 'academic discussion' was quite intense, Mr. Rosier."
Just as Julian was about to respond, a grey, somewhat elderly-looking Owl suddenly swooped down, almost crashing right into his bowl of Porridge.
Tied to its leg was a piece of Parchment with singed edges and handwriting so messy it looked like a spider had crawled across it.
"Julian, come quick... I've never seen anything so mad in my life! That fellow I played cards with at the Hog's Headsays it's a gift from hell. — Hagrid."
Julian raised an eyebrow slightly. Due to his presence, the world's storyline had deviated, and he had also intercepted Norbert.
Hagrid clearly hadn't fallen into the same obsession with the Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon as in the original story, but Quirrell—or rather, the fragmented soul behind him—hadn't given up.
To extract the method of getting past Fluffy, they had obviously offered Hagrid another kind of bait.
"It seems our Gamekeeper has gotten himself into trouble again," Julian said, standing up and elegantly brushing the folds from his robes. "Daphne, care for a stroll by the Forbidden Forest? To see this so-called 'gift from hell.'"
...
Half an hour later, in front of Hagrid's Hut.
The air here was thick with the foul stench of burning rotten meat.
Hagrid was anxiously pacing in front of his door, his massive frame almost knocking the wooden door askew.
"Oh, Julian! Thank Merlin, you're here!" Hagrid exclaimed upon seeing Julian, and Daphne following closely behind, as if seeing saviors. "It's too hot! My barrel's about to burn through!"
Julian stepped inside. There was no fire in the Fireplace, but a huge iron Cauldron sat in the middle of the floor.
The Cauldron was filled with a viscous, dark red liquid. In the center of the liquid, a huge egg covered in dark purple scales was trembling violently.
That was not a dragon egg.
"Is this... a Chimera Hybrid?" Daphne asked, covering her nose and mouth, her eyes filled with disgust. "Hagrid, are you mad? Keeping something like this could get you sent to Azkaban."
"The stranger said it's called a Void Gnawer, said it's a creature lost in the gaps between dimensions," Hagridsaid, sweating profusely, a sickly fascination in his eyes.
Julian keenly caught the key phrase.
"A stranger? Hagrid, think carefully. Did that stranger ask you about anything specific?"
Hagrid froze. His beetle-black eyes shifted guiltily. "He... he was just making small talk, asked me how to handle those ill-tempered big dogs... I might have mentioned in passing..."
Before Hagrid could finish his sentence, the egg in the Cauldron suddenly exploded.
There was no expected spray of slime. Instead, a thick black mist billowed out.
From within the mist came a piercing, screeching sound, like glass grinding against glass.
A malformed creature with three eyes, a transparent body, and clearly visible bones crawled out of the mist.
It had no skin, only constantly writhing, semi-transparent muscle tissue. Every one of its tentacles seemed to devour the surrounding light.
"It's consuming magical energy!" Daphne exclaimed, drawing her Wand.
"Don't move," Julian stopped her.
Simultaneously, he adjusted his Magical Output to its limit. Gradually, Julian's eyes began to turn red—a little trick he had learned from staying up late reading the key of dimensions.
In an instant, he not only saw the structure of this monster but also sensed a twisted, icy magical source observing them from within a Bush about a hundred meters away from the Hut.
That was Quirrell. Or rather, that was Lord Voldemort, currently attached to the back of Quirrell's head.
This monster was a trap, and also an experiment. Voldemort wanted to test whether this space-devouring creature could forcibly breach the defenses on the Third-Floor Corridor.
"What a clumsy performance," Julian sneered coldly.