Chapter 135: Sirius
Julian closed his umbrella, letting the rain soak his hair and slide down his cheeks.
"That's a fugitive from Azkaban, a madman whose brain has been burned out by the fires of vengeance."
His gaze pierced through the curtain of rain, locking onto the large black dog huddled under the eaves of a shop.
It was emaciated, its fur matted into clumps, looking like a pile of discarded rubbish.
But those eyes, even in such a wretched state, still flickered with a chilling, piercing cold light, fixed unwaveringly on the pet shop's tightly shut door.
Sirius Black.
To kill his former friend, to avenge James and Lily, he had escaped prison, transformed into a beast, and lain in wait on this cold, rainy night.
"Are you ready?"
Julian turned his head to look at Blanche.
"The trap is already set."
Blanche licked her lips, a flash of excitement in her eyes, "Once he steps into that snare, even Merlin himself would lose a layer of skin."
Julian nodded, pulling the magic necklace containing Purple Fiend from within his robes.
"Go, Purple Fiend."
He commanded in a low voice, "Don't kill him. I want him alive."
A flash of purple light.
Purple Fiend's bewitching figure appeared in the rain.
She did not maintain her human legs as before, but had reverted to her half-human, half-spider form.
Her enormous spider-like lower body looked especially ferocious in the rain, eight long legs silently scaling the wall. Like a giant predator, she hung upside down from the eaves, slowly closing in on the large dog.
At the same time, Blanche moved.
She transformed into a cat once more, leaping nimbly onto the windowsill, deliberately making a small noise.
*Click.*
The faint sound of a roof tile cracking seemed particularly sharp in the silent rainy night.
The large dog jerked its head up, ears pricked, alertly looking in the direction of the sound.
It smelled it.
That nauseating scent.
Faint, but definitely there.
That damned rat!
Hatred instantly clouded its mind, to the point of disorientation.
The large dog let out a low growl, its hind legs suddenly propelling it forward like a black bolt of lightning, charging towards the pet shop's back door.
Just as it was about to crash into the door—
*Hiss—!!!*
A huge, faintly glowing purple spiderweb descended from above, accurately enveloping it.
It was Purple Fiend's venomous web, not only incredibly tough but also coated with a potent paralyzing toxin.
The dog thrashed wildly within the net, snarling furiously, its claws tearing at the strands, trying to break free.
But this web had been enhanced by Julian; even a full-grown Acromantula would struggle to escape easily, let alone a weakened Animagus.
"Got you."
Julian stepped out from the shadows, his snake-headed wand tapping the ground lightly.
*Crucio!*
A red light struck the dog in the net.
*Awooo—!!!*
The dog let out a shrill, agonized howl, its body convulsing violently. The bone-deep pain made it almost impossible to maintain its Animagus form.
Its body began to twist and contort.
The black fur receded, revealing pale, gaunt human skin.
A few seconds later.
A man in tattered clothes, his face haggard, lay on the ground, gasping for breath.
His face was smeared with grime and scars, his eyes sunken, looking like a living corpse freshly crawled from a grave.
But in those grey eyes, an unyielding fire still burned.
"Who are you..."
Sirius rasped, trying to get up from the ground, but Purple Fiend's spider leg was already firmly planted on his chest.
The sharp claw-tip pierced his skin, blood flowing down his chest, staining the puddled water on the ground.
"Who I am isn't important."
Julian walked up to him, looking down at the former Gryffindor hero.
"What matters is, I know who you're looking for."
He crouched down, meeting Sirius's eyes, which were filled with madness.
"Peter."
Hearing that name, Sirius's pupils contracted sharply, his body trembling violently.
"Where is he... that traitor... that bastard..."
He roared, trying to lunge at Julian, but was held firmly down by Purple Fiend.
"Don't be in such a hurry."
Julian reached out and placed his hand on Sirius's forehead.
"Before that, I need to verify how much of what's in your head is actually true."
*Legilimency!*
This time, Julian held nothing back.
His mental force surged like a black torrent, violently crashing into Sirius's chaotic sea of consciousness.
It was a wasteland.
Everywhere were shattered fragments of memory, filled with despair, regret, and madness.
Julian saw that stormy night.
The Potter couple lay in a pool of blood, the infant Harry's cries echoing amidst the ruins.
He saw Sirius's breakdown upon arriving at the scene, his reluctance as he handed Harry over to Hagrid.
He saw his fury as he chased Peter down the street, and Peter's cunning as he blew up the street, severed a finger, and fled.
And these twelve years, how he had endured in the pitch-black cells of Azkaban, surviving the Dementor's Kiss time and again by clinging to his hatred for Peter.
"I'm innocent... I didn't kill James... I'm innocent..."
That voice echoed incessantly in the depths of memory, laden with suffocating sorrow.
Julian withdrew his hand, his expression complex.
Though he had long known the truth, witnessing it firsthand still stirred a strange sense of shock within him.
This was a pitiful wretch toyed with by fate.
But at the same time, also the sharpest of blades.
"I believe you."
Julian stood up, pulling a Potion vial from his robes and tossing it to Sirius.
"Drink it."
Sirius caught the bottle, looking at Julian with hesitation.
"It's a Blood-Replenishing Potion and an Invigoration Draught."
Julian said flatly, "If you want revenge, don't lie here like a dead dog."
Sirius gritted his teeth, pulled out the stopper, and downed the contents in one gulp.
As the Potion entered his system, his complexion visibly improved, a touch of color returning, and the haze in his eyes cleared slightly.
"Who exactly are you? Why are you helping me?"
He watched Julian warily. Though his wand had been confiscated, his body remained tense, ready to retaliate at any moment.
"I am Julian Rosier."
Julian gave his name, "A student of Slytherin."
"Rosier?"
Chapter 136: Cooperation
Sirius stared intently at Julian, then sneered.
"Hmph, another brat from a Death Eater family. What? Planning to capture me and take credit with your Dark Lord?"
"Lord Voldemort is dead."
Julian said calmly, "At least, dead for now."
"And I have no interest in that noseless madman."
He waved his hand, and Purple Fiend released her claws, retreating into the shadows.
"What I am interested in is order."
Julian looked at Sirius, "The wizarding world is too chaotic right now; it needs a new order. And you, Mr. Black, you need to clear your name and seek revenge."
"We can cooperate."
"Cooperate?" Sirius acted as if he'd heard a joke, "Cooperate with a Slytherin? Keep dreaming!"
"Peter is at Hogwarts."
Julian threw out the bait, "Right by Harry Potter's side."
This single sentence instantly shattered all of Sirius's defenses.
"What did you say?!"
He lunged forward, grabbing Julian's collar, "Where is he?! What is he doing by Harry's side?!"
"He's waiting for an opportunity."
Julian didn't struggle, letting him hold on, "Waiting for his master to return, so he can take Harry's head to claim the credit."
"If you rush into Hogwarts now, you'll only be caught by the Dementors and receive that Kiss."
"But if you listen to me..."
Julian's voice was full of allure, "Not only can I help you catch Peter, but I can also let you stand before Harry with dignity and tell him you are his godfather."
Sirius's grip gradually loosened.
His eyes showed struggle and hesitation.
But he knew Julian was right.
Right now, he was just a fugitive; he couldn't even get close to Harry.
"What do you need me to do?"
He took a deep breath, his voice low.
"It's simple."
Julian pulled out the map he'd obtained from Knockturn Alley and pointed to a red dot on it.
"I want you to go here and retrieve something for me."
"That's..." Sirius glanced at the map, his expression shifting slightly, "The underground secret chamber of the Black Manor?"
"Exactly."
Julian nodded, "There's a locket hidden there, Slytherin's Locket."
It was one of Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes.
And the thing Regulus Black had traded his life for.
"Retrieve it and give it to me."
Julian looked into Sirius's eyes, "In exchange, I will bring Peter to you and use my family's influence to help clear your name."
Sirius remained silent for a long time.
Rainwater flowed down his cheeks, mixing with blood and dripping onto the ground.
Finally, he nodded.
"Deal."
...
After dealing with Sirius's matters, Julian was in no hurry to return to the manor.
He went to the second floor of Blanche's Pet Shop.
Blanche had already converted this place into a temporary lounge, with thick carpets and a warm fire burning in the fireplace.
Purple Fiend had reverted to her human form and was curled up on the carpet by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket. Her purple eyes were fixed on Julian, like a small animal waiting to be fed.
The battle just now had consumed a lot of her magic; she was currently in a state of extreme thirst.
"Well done."
Julian walked over to her and reached out to stroke her hair.
Purple Fiend immediately rubbed against his palm like a cat, a comfortable purr coming from her throat.
"Master... hungry..."
She looked up, her face slightly flushed, her lips parted slightly to reveal the tender pink tip of her tongue.
Julian smiled and unbuttoned his shirt.
"Then let's eat."
This wasn't just a reward; it was also to stabilize the restless magic circuits within her body.
Purple Fiend gave a cheer and threw herself into Julian's arms.
Her hands eagerly unfastened Julian's...
Outside the window, the rain continued to fall... (Two thousand words omitted here)
After returning Purple Fiend to the subspace of the magic necklace, Julian didn't linger in London.
Then, Julian activated the Rosier Manor's private Portkey.
After a dizzying sensation of being pulled, Julianappeared in the manor's hall, which was paved with moonstones.
A faint scent of white roses lingered in the air—Daphne's favorite flower.
"Young Master, you've returned."
Quill appeared by his side like a ghost and gave a deep bow, his hands, which looked like withered bark, taking the trench coat Julian had removed.
"The two young ladies of the Greengrass Family have been waiting in the sitting room for quite some time."
Quill's voice was raspy, with a hint of a tremor that was hard to detect, "Miss Daphne... seems to be in a bad mood."
Julian raised an eyebrow, a playful curve tugging at the corner of his mouth.
A bad mood?
That was only natural.
After all, he had packed up these two sisters and brought them directly from sunny Southern France back to damp Britain, and then played a disappearing act without a word.
"Understood."
Julian straightened his collar and stepped toward the second floor.
Pushing open the heavy oak door of the sitting room, a wave of warmth hit him.
The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, its orange-red light reflecting on two very different but equally beautiful faces.
Daphne sat on the long sofa, holding a cup of Black tea, though her mind was clearly not on the tea.
She wore a deep green velvet gown, her blonde hair pinned up behind her head, revealing her slender neck. Her blue eyes were currently burning with a flame called "interrogation."
Meanwhile, Astoria sat quietly in an armchair by the window, holding a thick ancient tome, a wool blanket draped over her knees.
Her face was still pale, but her eyes were much clearer than before. Seeing Julian enter, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly in a very faint smile.
"Finally decided to come back?"
Daphne set down her teacup, the porcelain clinking sharply against the saucer.
She stood up like a proud swan, walked over to Julian, and looked up at him.
"You brought us back like cargo, only to run off to Londonyourself."
Her gaze fell on the faint, barely visible scratches on Julian's collar—left by Purple Fiend in her passion earlier.
Daphne's eyes instantly became even more dangerous.
"And it seems you had quite a fulfilling time in London."
She reached out, her fingertip lightly tracing the red mark, her tone thick with jealousy, "Which blind little stray cat was it this time?"
Julian caught her hand and kissed it lightly.
"Just a lost big dog."
He didn't explain much; this kind of ambiguous answer was more likely to pique a woman's curiosity and possessiveness.
"Moreover, I did this all for Astoria."
Julian turned his head to look at the girl by the window.
Astoria closed her book and watched him quietly, as if waiting for something.
"For Lia?" Daphne frowned, looking at him skeptically, "What does that have to do with that big dog?"
Chapter 137: Solving the Blood Curse
"It has everything to do with it."
Julian walked up to Astoria and crouched down, bringing his gaze level with Daphne's.
"I found a crucial lead in London."
He pulled a copy of the manuscript regarding the Reconstruction of Human Magical Circuits, which he had obtained from Knockturn Alley, from his robes and placed it on Astoria's lap.
"About the true nature of the Blood Curse."
Astoria's fingers lightly brushed over the complex runes on the parchment, her fingertips trembling slightly.
"Is there... a cure?"
Her voice was very soft, carrying a hint of cautious hope.
"It's more than just a cure."
Julian took her hand; it was bone-chillingly cold, like a block of ice that never melted.
"I told you, it's an evolution."
He stood up and beckoned to Daphne.
"Follow me to the basement."
The basement of Rosier Manor had been expanded long ago; it was no longer a simple storage room but a vast underground labyrinth.
Julian led the two sisters to a Chamber of Secrets at the very deepest part.
This was his private domain; no one had ever entered except for him and the House-elves.
Even Isabella would not enter without a specific reason.
In the center of the chamber sat a massive stone bed covered in engraved alchemical runes.
The surrounding shelves were filled with various rare Potion ingredients and specimens, and the air was thick with an unsettling metallic scent of blood.
"Lie down on it."
Julian pointed to the stone bed.
Astoria did not hesitate; she took off her shoes and obediently lay down.
The stone bed was cold, but her body was colder.
"Daphne, you watch from the side."
Julian rolled up his sleeves as he spoke to Daphne, who was standing by the door looking a bit overwhelmed.
"If anything goes wrong, I need you to use your magic to stabilize her heart's pulse."
Daphne nodded. Though she was somewhat afraid, she walked over firmly for her sister's sake and took hold of one of Astoria's hands.
"Let's begin."
Julian took a deep breath, his gaze instantly becoming focused and cold.
He pulled out a bottle of purple Potion—it was formulated using diluted venom from a Purple Fiend, possessing strong paralyzing and hallucinogenic effects while also stimulating the activity of magical circuits.
"Drink it."
Astoria opened her mouth submissively, letting the bitter liquid slide down her throat.
A moment later, her eyes began to glaze over, her breathing quickened, and an unnatural flush appeared on her originally pale face.
"Hot..."
She writhed unconsciously, her hands clutching the sheets beneath her. "So hot..."
The cold of the Blood Curse and the heat of the Potioncollided violently within her body, like a song of ice and fire.
"Endure it."
Julian's voice rang in her ear, carrying an unquestionable authority.
He reached out and pressed his hand against Astoria's lower abdomen—the location of her magical source.
His mental energy pierced into her body like a fine surgical scalpel.
This time, it was deeper and more thorough than the time in Southern France.
Julian saw the Ice Serpent coiled deep within her soul.
It seemed to sense the threat and was roaring frantically, releasing massive amounts of curse energy in an attempt to freeze Julian's mental energy.
"Hmph, a mere parlor trick."
Julian gave a cold snort and mobilized the Fiendfyremagic within him.
Black flames spread along his arm, eventually converging in his palm and injecting into Astoria's body.
"Ah—!!!"
Astoria let out a shrill scream, her body arching violently like a dying shrimp.
"Lia!" Daphne cried out, wanting to step forward, but she was stopped by Julian's gaze.
"Don't move!"
Sweat also beaded on Julian's forehead.
This was an extremely dangerous gamble.
He had to control the intensity of the Fiendfyre perfectly, needing to incinerate the Ice Serpent's will without harming Astoria's fragile soul.
This kind of delicate operation was practically dancing on the edge of a knife.
As time passed, Astoria's screams gradually subsided, replaced by a suppressed moaning.
Under the burning of the Fiendfyre, the Ice Serpent began to melt, turning into streams of pure magic that integrated into Astoria's limbs and bones.
Her body began to undergo a transformation.
Her originally pale skin became crystal clear, as if light were flowing beneath the surface.
Her pale blonde hair grew at a visible rate until it reached her ankles, and its color became purer, approaching a silvery white.
The most startling change was her eyes.
When she opened them again, her originally grey-green pupils had turned into strange vertical slits, surrounded by a ring of pale blue ice crystal patterns.
The feeling she gave off was both divine and demonic.
"Success..."
Julian withdrew his hand and let out a long breath of turbid air.
Although he hadn't completely eradicated the Blood Curse, he had successfully converted the curse's power into Astoria's own strength.
Now, she was no longer a sickly girl who could die at any moment, but a witch who wielded the power of frost.
"How do you feel?"
Julian looked at the girl gasping for air on the stone bed, a flash of satisfaction in his eyes.
Astoria slowly sat up and looked down at her hands.
She gave a light squeeze.
*Crack.*
The moisture in the air instantly condensed, and an exquisite ice lotus bloomed in her palm.
"It's wonderful..."
Her voice had become ethereal and cold, as if devoid of emotion, but the look she gave Julian was filled with fervent adoration.
"Thank you... Julian."
She suddenly lunged into Julian's arms, her hands tightly clutching his waist.
That icy aura still existed, but it was no longer a deathly cold; it was a refreshing chill full of vitality.
"Ahem."
Daphne, standing to the side, finally couldn't take it anymore and coughed heavily twice.
"Since everything is fine now, shouldn't there be an explanation?"
Her gaze swept back and forth over their pressed bodies, her tone laced with jealousy.
Julian smiled, released Astoria, and turned to wrap an arm around Daphne's slender waist.
"Explain what? Explain how I saved your sister?"
He lowered his head and whispered into Daphne's ear, "Or explain how I want to reward you for your cooperation just now?"
Daphne's face instantly flushed red, and her previous momentum vanished.
"Who... who wants your reward..."
Daphne spoke stubbornly, but her body honestly went limp in Julian's embrace.
Chapter 138: The Fourth Horcrux
12 Grimmauld Place.
This ancient Black ancestral home was hidden deep within the shadowy streets of London, like a rotten tooth, exuding an aura of decay and dilapidation.
Even during the day, the place remained shrouded in a lingering gloom.
Julian stood before the pitch-black front door, his snake-headed wand tapping lightly on the ground.
The silver door knocker—a coiled serpent—seemed to come alive, its emerald eyes fixed intently upon him.
*Click.*
The door opened.
A wave of musty air and dust washed over him, mingled with something more unsettling—the lingering traces of the Dark Arts that had seeped into the house over long years.
The entrance hall was pitch dark, with only the faint hiss of gas lamps on the walls.
"Get out! Filthy blood traitor! You are not welcome here!"
A sharp, screeching voice echoed from the staircase.
This was followed by the sound of heavy footsteps and something shattering.
"Shut up! Kreacher!"
It was Sirius's roar.
Julian stepped into the hall, the floorboards beneath his feet groaning with a grating sound.
At the foot of the stairs, he saw the two figures confronting each other.
Sirius looked slightly better than he had at the pet shop, having at least changed into clean clothes—though they were an outdated style from over a decade ago, hanging loosely on his gaunt frame.
Facing him was an old, ugly House-elf.
Kreacher.
It wore a filthy rag, its skin wrinkled like parchment, its large bloodshot eyes filled with hatred and madness.
In its hands, it clutched a heavy golden locket as if it were its most precious possession.
"The young master is back... the blood traitor is back..."
Kreacher muttered frantically, banging its head against the wall, "bringing filthy friends... defiling the mistress's house... oh, poor mistress..."
"Give that to me!"
Sirius lunged forward to snatch the locket, but Kreacherdodged nimbly, scurrying onto the stair rail like a rat.
"This is Master Regulus's legacy! Can't give it to that blood traitor!"
Kreacher shrieked, its voice echoing through the empty hall, making the drapes on the portraits tremble.
"Enough."
Julian's voice was not loud, but it carried a strange, penetrating quality that instantly cut through all the noise.
He ascended the stairs slowly, his leather shoes tapping against the wood in a steady, elegant rhythm.
"Kreacher."
He spoke the name, his tone as calm as if calling a dog.
Kreacher stopped moving, its murky eyes turning toward Julian.
"Who are you... you smell of... that scent..."
It sniffed, showing a hint of confusion and fear, "the scent of pure blood... ancient blood..."
The bloodline of the Rosier Family was among the most distinguished even within the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
That inherent nobility and aura of oppression held a natural, intimidating power over creatures like House-elves.
"I am Julian Rosier."
Julian walked over to Sirius, patting his shoulder to signal him to calm down.
Then, he looked at Kreacher, his gaze settling on the locket.
"I know the secret of that locket."
These words acted like a full Body-Bind Curse, freezing Kreacher completely.
"Secret..." it mumbled, "Master Regulus's secret..."
"Yes."
Julian extended his hand, palm up. "Regulus was a hero, Kreacher. He tried to destroy that thing, to destroy the Dark Lord's evil soul."
"But he failed, didn't he?"
Kreacher's body began to tremble violently, large tears rolling from its bulging eyes.
"Master Regulus... drank the poison... was dragged into the water by the Inferi..."
It began to wail, bashing its head madly against the banister, "Kreacher is useless! Kreacher couldn't destroy it! Kreacher is a bad elf!"
"No, you are not useless."
Julian's voice softened slightly, carrying a hint of persuasive magic. "You simply didn't find the right method."
"That locket is Lord Voldemort's Horcrux. Ordinary magiccannot destroy it."
"But I can."
On Julian's finger, the Rosier soul-ring shimmered with a faint light.
It was the resonance of soul magic.
Kreacher looked up at Julian, its eyes blurred with tears.
"You can... destroy it?"
"Give it to me."
Julian extended his hand again. "Let me fulfill Regulus's last wish."
Kreacher hesitated.
It looked at the locket in its hands, then back at Julian.
Finally, its loyalty to Regulus overcame everything else.
Trembling, it stretched out its withered hand and placed the heavy golden locket into Julian's palm.
At the moment of contact.
A cold, malevolent energy surged up Julian's arm.
It was the malice of Voldemort's soul fragment.
It tried to invade Julian's mind, to tempt him, to control him.
"Hmph."
Julian sneered, his mental power erupting instantly like an iron wall, sealing that malevolence firmly within the locket.
"It really is it."
He turned the locket over in his hand, feeling the dark heart beating within.
Slytherin's Locket.
The fourth Horcrux, acquired.
"Alright, Kreacher."
Julian pocketed the locket and looked at the still-sobbing elf.
"You did very well. Regulus would be proud of you."
"Now, obey the orders of your current master, Sirius."
"No! He is a blood traitor! He is..." Kreacher started to protest but was silenced by Julian's icy glare.
"He is the sole heir of the House of Black."
Julian's voice was cold and merciless. "And you are a House-elf of the Black family. Obedience is your duty."
"Besides, only he can help you achieve revenge."
"Revenge?" Kreacher froze.
"Yes, revenge against Lord Voldemort."
Julian pointed at Sirius. "We will find Peter, the betrayer. We will destroy all the Horcruxes, making the Dark Lordwho killed Regulus vanish completely."
At that moment, the hatred in Kreacher's eyes shifted.
Though its gaze at Sirius still held disgust, the outright hostility had diminished considerably.
"If... if it is for Master Regulus..."
It bowed deeply to Sirius, though the motion was still stiff. "Kreacher... obeys."
Sirius watched all this, his expression complex.
He hadn't expected the problem that had tormented him for so long to be resolved by Julian with just a few words.
This young man's methods were more terrifying than those of the veteran Death Eaters.
"Now that we have the item, let's go."
Without another glance at Kreacher, Julian turned and walked toward the door.
"Wait."
Sirius called out to him.
"You promised me."
"Of course."
Julian stopped and looked back at him. "Next term, Peterwill appear at Hogwarts. He is Ron Weasley's pet rat, Scabbers."
"What?!"
Sirius's eyes widened, an expression of disbelief spreading across his face. "The Weasley family? That blood traitor family?"
"The most dangerous place is the safest."
Julian said coolly. "Who would think a Death Eater would hide in the home of an Order of the Phoenix member and live as a pet for twelve years?"
"I'm going to kill him!"
The fire of rage reignited in Sirius's eyes, and he turned to rush out.
"Stop."
Chapter 139: Hermione's Invitation
Julian's voice was like a clap of thunder, making him stop dead in his tracks.
"I told you, don't be impulsive."
"Hogwarts is on holiday now, and the Weasley family has gone to Egypt for a trip."
Julian pulled a newspaper clipping from his breast pocket—it was the news from The Daily Prophet about the Weasley family winning a prize and going to Egypt.
In the photo, the rat on Ron's shoulder, missing a finger, was particularly eye-catching.
"Look closely."
Julian pointed at the rat. "This is Peter."
Sirius stared intently at the photo, his hands trembling, nails digging deep into his palms.
"I'm going to Egypt..."
"No, you're not going anywhere."
Julian interrupted him. "If you go now, you'll only alert the enemy. Besides, Egypt has Gringotts Goblins and Ministry of Magic Aurors. As a wanted criminal, you'd be caught before you even landed."
"Then what should I do? Am I supposed to just let him remain at large?"
"Wait."
Julian put away the clipping. "Wait for school to start. Wait for them to return to Hogwarts."
"When the time comes, I will create an opportunity for you."
"An opportunity to reveal the truth in front of the entire school's staff and students."
Sirius took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
He knew Julian was right.
He had waited twelve years; these last two months wouldn't make a difference.
"Fine."
He nodded, his voice hoarse. "I'll wait."
...
After leaving Grimmauld Place, Julian did not return directly to Rosier Manor.
He went to Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley, Diagon Alley.
In that gloomy antique shop, Mr. Borgin was leaning over the counter, wiping a skull with a filthy rag.
Seeing Julian enter, his greasy face was immediately covered with a fawning smile.
"Oh, Master Rosier! A rare guest, a rare guest indeed!"
He came around from behind the counter, rubbing his hands together. "I heard you've been collecting some... special trinkets lately?"
"Cut the nonsense."
Julian toyed with the snake-headed wand in his hand, his gaze sweeping over the eerie Dark Arts items in the shop.
"Where is the item I want?"
"It's here, it's here!"
Borgin hurriedly pulled out a box wrapped in black velvet from under the counter.
Opening the box, inside was a tattered ancient book emitting a strong aura of the Dark Arts.
secrets of the darkest art.
This book was once in the Restricted Section of Hogwarts, but Dumbledore later removed it.
Because it contained detailed records on how to create a Horcrux.
Julian picked up the book and flipped through a few pages.
The twisted text and illustrations made him feel a wave of nausea, but also an inexplicable sense of excitement.
This was the secret to Lord Voldemort's immortality.
"How much?"
"Well..." Borgin rolled his eyes, "This is an out-of-print item, and..."
"Five hundred Galleons."
Julian interrupted him directly, tossing out a heavy bag of gold coins.
"Deal!"
Borgin grabbed the money bag, the smile on his face growing even brighter. "Master Rosier is truly straightforward!"
It was already late at night when he returned to Rosier Manor.
In the basement, Astoria was sitting on the stone bed, eyes closed, surrounded by a faint circle of ice mist.
She was meditating, adapting to that newfound power.
Hearing footsteps, she opened her eyes, her heterochromatic slit pupils shimmering with a faint light in the darkness.
"You're back."
Her voice was still cool, but it carried a trace of imperceptible tenderness.
"How do you feel?"
Julian walked to her side and reached out to stroke her hair.
The sensation was cool and smooth, like stroking a piece of fine silk.
"Very good."
Astoria held out her hand, and a crystal-clear icicle condensed in her palm.
"I can feel... the magic flowing."
"It's no longer that sluggish, painful feeling. It's... smooth."
She turned her head to look at Julian, a flash of gratitude in her eyes.
"Thank you, Julian."
...
Early morning.
A musky scent still lingered in the air.
Julian sat up from the bed; the space beside him was already empty.
Daphne and Astoria had already gotten up.
A grayish-brown long-eared owl was perched on the windowsill, impatiently pecking at the glass with its beak. The "tap-tap" sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet morning.
Julian put on a black silk dressing gown, stepped barefoot onto the carpet, and went over to open the window.
The owl flapped its wings and flew in, dropping a letter on the table, then immediately buried its head in its wings, as if feeling an instinctive dread for this room filled with the aura of Dark Arts.
The envelope was an ordinary Muggle one, pale pink, emitting a faint scent of ink and cheap perfume—it was the stationery Hermione often used.
Julian picked up the letter, his fingertips lightly brushing the wax seal at the opening.
There was no family crest, only a handwritten 'H'.
Opening the envelope, the familiar, dense handwriting that looked like print met his eyes.
"Dear Julian:
I know this is sudden, but I've really run into some trouble.
Regarding the side effects of the Polyjuice Potion. Over the last few days, that feeling has been getting stronger and stronger. I've even started to crave some strange things.
If you're free, could you come to my house? My parents are going to a dental medical seminar this weekend, so I'll be home alone. I'd like to ask you to help check on me...
Also, although my birthday isn't for another two months, I want to invite you in advance. I know you're busy, so... if you can come this weekend, we can consider it an early celebration.
Yours sincerely, Hermione Granger."
At the end of the letter, the handwriting was a bit messy, as if the writer's mind was not at peace at the time.
The corner of Julian's mouth curled into a playful arc.
Trouble?
It seemed that the pendant engraved with the Rosier Family's tracking and mental suggestion runes, combined with the residual feline genes from the previous Polyjuice Potion, was producing some wonderful chemical reactions within Hermione's body.
"Since it's a birthday invitation..."
Julian folded the letter and put it in his dressing gown pocket, "Then as a gentleman, I naturally cannot refuse."
...
Hampstead Garden Suburb.
This was a famous affluent area in London, and also where Hermione's home was located.
Unlike the crowded chaos of Diagon Alley and the gloomy horror of Knockturn Alley, this place was filled with the orderly tedium of the Muggle world.
Neatly trimmed lawns, red-brick detached villas, occasional black sedans driving by, and the scent of toasted bread and black tea lingering in the air.
Julian wore a well-tailored Muggle casual suit—a dark blue jacket paired with beige trousers, no tie, and the collar slightly open, looking both casual and elegant.
He stood before the white wooden door of the Granger house, not in a hurry to knock.
His gaze landed on a window on the second floor.
The curtains were drawn, but a silhouette could be seen moving behind them, appearing to pace anxiously.
Julian raised his hand and rang the doorbell.
"Ding-dong—"
Almost the next second, the silhouette disappeared from the window.
This was followed by a hurried sound of footsteps coming downstairs, and then the sound of a lock turning.
Chapter 140: Hermione's Trouble
The door opened.
Hermione appeared at the doorway.
She wasn't wearing her Hogwarts robes today; instead, she had changed into a simple white cotton dress that fell just past her knees, revealing a pair of slender calves.
That signature bushy brown hair seemed to have been meticulously groomed, draping softly over her shoulders, though the ends still flicked up somewhat stubbornly.
Most striking were her eyes.
Those brown eyes held a hint of panic, and the moment her pupils saw Julian, they seemed to contract slightly—a feline's instinctive reaction when excited or nervous.
"Julian! You... you really came."
Her voice was a bit dry, and two patches of blush quickly rose on her cheeks.
"How could I not come after receiving an invitation from a lady?"
Julian smiled, producing a bouquet of lavender hyacinths from behind him like a magic trick.
"For you. Happy early birthday, Hermione."
Hermione froze for a moment, took the flowers, and lowered her head to sniff them.
"Thank you... these are my favorite flowers."
She stepped aside to make way. "Please, come in. It's... too hot outside."
Stepping into the foyer, a wave of cool air greeted him.
The Granger home was decorated in a very cozy style, with bookshelves and green plants everywhere; the walls were hung with photos of Hermione growing up, as well as her parents' dental licenses.
It was an atmosphere full of normalcy and reason.
But at this moment, Julian keenly sensed a hint of disharmony.
It was the scent of magic.
Though very faint, it definitely existed.
The source was precisely that silver pendant around Hermione's neck.
"Have a seat anywhere. I'll go pour you some tea."
Hermione put the flowers in a vase, appearing somewhat flustered. "What would you like to drink? Black tea? Or juice?"
"Black tea is fine, no sugar."
Julian sat on the fabric sofa in the living room, his gaze casually scanning the surroundings.
The coffee table was piled with books.
Modern Transfiguration Theory, The Physiology of Magical Creatures, Curses and Counter-Curses...
It seemed this Miss Know-It-All had scoured every book she could find to solve her own problem.
After a short while, Hermione came over carrying a tea tray.
When she leaned over to set down the teacups, Juliannoticed her movements were a bit strange.
Her back was held very tight, and her movements were overly light, even silent as she stepped, just like a cat hunting or avoiding a predator.
"Tell me about it, Hermione."
Julian picked up his teacup and gently blew on the steam. "What exactly is the trouble you mentioned in your letter?"
Hermione sat in the armchair opposite him, her hands tightly gripping her teacup, her knuckles turning a bit white.
She bit her lip, seemingly building up her courage.
"It's... the sensations."
She said in a low voice, her tone trembling slightly. "Since coming back for the holidays, I've found... my senses have become very acute."
"Hearing, smell... even the perception of the surrounding airflow."
She looked up, her brown eyes staring directly at Julian.
"Sometimes, I can even hear the neighbors next door chopping vegetables in the kitchen, or smell a stray dog several streets away."
"That sounds like the awakening of some kind of talent."
Julian set down his teacup and leaned forward slightly. "But that shouldn't be the main reason for your distress, right?"
Hermione's face turned even redder.
She lowered her head, her voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz.
"And... habits."
"I've started... hating water. When I shower, the feeling of the water touching my skin makes me... very uncomfortable."
"And... I've started liking... cramped spaces."
She took a deep breath, as if summoning great courage. "The night before last, I... I slept in the wardrobe all night."
A hint of a smile flashed in Julian's eyes.
This was exactly the effect he wanted.
The incorrect formula of the Polyjuice Potion had disrupted her human genetic sequence; although he had cured Hermione's superficial symptoms, those feline instincts had remained dormant.
And his pendant acted like an amplifier, constantly stimulating this latent power and merging it with Hermione's magic.
"That is indeed very interesting."
Julian stood up and walked over to Hermione. "Do you mind if I check? From a magical perspective."
Hermione looked up at the boy standing so close.
That familiar, slightly chilly scent surrounded her.
Her heart began to beat violently—not out of fear, but a kind of... desire to submit.
"O-okay."
She nodded.
"Let's go to your room."
Julian said softly. "It's... too open here, not suitable for an examination."
Hermione's room was on the second floor.
Pushing the door open revealed a small world filled with a young girl's atmosphere.
Bookshelves still took up half the space, the bed was piled with plush toys, and several pots of succulents sat on the windowsill.
But Julian noticed the duvet on the bed was piled into the shape of a nest, and in the corner under the desk, several layers of thick carpet were laid out—clearly the "cramped space" she had mentioned.
"Sit on the bed."
Julian closed the door and casually cast a Silencing Charm.
Hermione obediently sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clutching her dress, looking at him nervously.
Julian walked up to her, but he didn't take out his wand immediately.
He reached out and gently tilted Hermione's chin up.
"Look at me."
His voice was low and magnetic.
Hermione was forced to look up, her brown pupils trembling slightly in the light.
Julian leaned in closer, carefully observing her irises.
In the originally pure brown, a ring of golden fine lines had faintly appeared—a characteristic of cat eyes.
"Pupillary response is normal... but sensitivity to light has increased."
His fingers slid down Hermione's cheek to the side of her neck.
That was where the artery pulsed, and also the most vulnerable spot.
Hermione's body jerked violently, instinctively wanting to pull her neck away, but she forced herself to stay still.
"Your pulse is very fast."
Julian's fingers lightly pressed against the throbbing vessel, feeling the blood rushing beneath. "One hundred and twenty beats per minute... What are you nervous about, Hermione?"
"I... I'm not..."
Hermione's voice wavered, her breath fanning against the back of Julian's hand with a hint of warmth.
"Shh..."
Julian raised a finger and pressed it against her lips. "Don't speak, feel the flow of magic."
His other hand reached into her collar and grasped the silver locket.
The icy metal touching her warm skin made Hermionegasp.
"This pendant..."
Julian said in a low voice, his fingers lightly tracing the runes on the pendant. "It is changing your magic circuits."
"Ch-changing?" Hermione's eyes widened. "Is that a bad thing?"
"No, quite the opposite."
Julian smiled, a certain dangerous light glinting in his eyes. "It is an evolution."
"For ordinary Wizards, magic is diffuse and disordered."
"But you, Hermione... your magic is becoming condensed, becoming sharp."
"Just like a cat."
Chapter 141: Cat Girl 3.0
Julian's fingers left the pendant and slid down her collarbone, pressing against the area just above her chest through the thin cotton fabric—the location of her magic core.
"Can you feel it?"
Julian channeled a wisp of his own magic.
It was a domineering and icy power that instantly surged into Hermione's body.
"Ugh—!"
Hermione let out a short moan, her body arching violently.
That feeling... it was like being struck by an electric current.
Numbness and stinging pain mingled with an indescribable sensation.
A phantom pain shot through her tailbone, as if a non-existent tail were growing and swishing there.
"This... what is this..."
She gasped, her hands tightly gripping Julian's arms, her nails nearly sinking into his flesh.
"It's an illusion."
Julian didn't pull his hand away; instead, he increased the output of magic. "Your body remembers my magic, Hermione."
"Just like that time in the Room of Requirement."
At the mention of that experience, Hermione's eyes instantly became dazed.
The memories of that night were blurry and chaotic, but that sense of security from being completely controlled was deeply imprinted in her soul.
"Now, I'm going to do a little test."
Julian suddenly withdrew his magic and took a step back.
The sudden sense of emptiness almost made Hermionecry out.
"Turn around, back to me."
Hermione hesitated for a moment but still obediently turned around, facing away from Julian.
"Lift your hair."
She raised her hands, brushing her thick brown hair to one side, revealing her fair and slender nape.
Julian reached out, not using his wand but his fingertips, lightly tracing down her spine from top to bottom.
This was a motion simulating grooming fur.
For felines, this was a signal of intimacy and reassurance.
"Purr..."
When his fingertips passed the indentation between her shoulder blades, Hermione involuntarily let out a low murmur similar to a purr.
Her spine instinctively dipped... a standard posture for a cat when being petted.
"Quite an interesting reaction."
Julian's voice sounded behind her, laced with a hint of teasing. "It seems your body is more honest than your brain, Hermione."
Hermione snapped back to her senses, realizing what she had just done, and felt so ashamed she nearly wanted to sink into the floor.
She tried to straighten up, but found her body limp and completely devoid of strength.
"Don't move."
Julian's hand pressed down on her shoulder, pushing her back down. "The test isn't over yet."
His hand continued down her spine, reaching the small of her back.
That was an extremely sensitive area for felines, and currently the place where the magic in Hermione's body was most chaotic.
Julian's fingers traced light circles there as a Runic Scriptarray appeared, and he then injected a bit of magic into it.
Hermione's breathing grew ragged; her hands gripped the bedsheets as her body trembled slightly with Julian's movements.
The feeling was so strange.
It was clearly just a simple touch, yet it gave her the illusion of being completely seen through and entirely controlled.
Her mind went blank; all those complex magical theories and rational thoughts vanished.
Only an instinctive longing remained.
A longing for more touch, a longing for more...
"Julian..."
She unconsciously murmured his name, her voice carrying a hint of a sob. "Please..."
"Please what?"
Julian leaned close to her ear and asked softly.
"Begging me to stop? Or... begging me to continue?"
Hermione bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes.
She didn't know what she wanted, but she knew she didn't want him to leave.
"Continue..."
The word seemed squeezed out from the depths of her soul.
Julian smiled.
It was a smile of satisfaction.
"Good girl."
He gave her nape a rewarding kiss, then pulled a small bottle from his pocket.
It contained a pale golden liquid.
"This is a Potion I recently developed."
Julian held the bottle in front of her. "It can alleviate your discomfort and stabilize and enhance your magic."
"But the side effect is... it will deepen your dependence on this kind of petting, just like a feline."
"Will you drink it?"
It was a choice.
Hermione looked at the bottle and felt the constantly shifting magic within her body.
She knew this was a point of no return.
But the thrill of growing stronger and the sense of ease from completely lowering her guard before Julian made it impossible to refuse.
She reached out and took the bottle with trembling hands.
She uncorked it, tilted her head back, and drained it in one gulp.
The Potion had a cloyingly sweet honey taste with a hint of spicy herbs as it slid down her throat.
A wave of warmth instantly spread through her entire body, and the magic within Hermione surged continuously.
The discomfort caused by genetic rejection disappeared, replaced by a lazy, comfortable sensation.
Like a cat basking in the sun on a winter afternoon.
Hermione slumped softly onto the bed, curling into a ball and letting out a satisfied sigh.
Julian sat by the bed, watching her quietly.
His hand still idly stroked her hair.
"Get some good sleep, Hermione."
He said softly, "When you wake up, everything will be better."
"Oh, and about your birthday present..."
Julian leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead.
"I've already decided what to give you."
"One that belongs to you..."
Hermione could no longer hear what he was saying.
Under the influence of the Potion, her consciousness gradually blurred, and she fell into a deep sleep.
In her dream, she became an elegant cat, lying on her master's lap, enjoying herself.
And that person... was Julian.
...
By the time he left the Granger house, it was already evening.
The setting sun painted the streets of Hampstead in a golden red.
Julian stood at the intersection and looked back at the closed window on the second floor.
This house call was very successful.
Hermione Granger, the future brain of Gryffindor and Harry Potter's most steadfast ally, was step by step becoming a plaything in his palm.
This wasn't just for the sake of conquest.
It was also for the upcoming third year.
The school year involving the time-turner and Hogwarts' deepest secrets.
He needed Hermione.
He needed an absolutely obedient and loyal Hermione to help him complete that crazy plan.
"Time..."
Julian raised his wrist and checked his watch.
"It's about time to go see another old friend."
His shadow lengthened under the setting sun, and then, with a faint crack, he vanished.
Chapter 142: The School
The night was as dark as ink, shrouding the Scottish Highlands in a dead silence.
During the summer holidays, Hogwarts Castle had lost its usual bustle and vitality, leaving only empty corridors and the occasional sound of wind whistling through the halls.
The air was thick with the scent of damp moss and the stale smell of limestone.
"Pop."
A faint crack echoed at the edge of Hogsmeade.
Julian's figure stepped out from the warped space.
Straightening his collar, which had been ruffled by the night wind, he did not head toward the tightly closed school gates, but instead turned into the back alley of the Honeydukes sweet shop.
There was a cellar entrance there that led to the third-floor corridor of the Castle.
As the heir to the Rosier Family and someone with a certain degree of influence on the Board of Governors, he could, of course, have walked through the main gates openly.
But tonight, what he intended to do was not suitable for Filch or those portraits to see.
The tunnel was dark and damp, with thick spiderwebs hanging from the walls.
A cold white light lit up at the tip of Julian's wand, illuminating the rugged stone path beneath his feet.
His footsteps were light, each step landing in the shadows.
Half an hour later.
The hump of the One-Eyed Witch statue slowly closed.
Julian stood in the third-floor corridor of Hogwarts.
Everything was quiet, save for the dull rumble of the stairs moving in the distance.
He did not linger, skillfully avoiding the patrolling Filchand his red-eyed cat as he made his way up the marble staircase.
Seventh floor.
In front of the wall where the Barnabas the Barmy being cudgelled by trolls tapestry hung.
Julian stopped, closed his eyes, and focused his mind.
"I need a place to hide things... I need a place to hide things... I need a place to hide things..."
He walked back and forth three times in front of the wall.
On the wall, the originally smooth stone bricks began to writhe like the skin of some creature.
A smooth door slowly emerged.
He pushed the door open.
A musty scent wafted toward him—the smell of forgotten time spanning centuries.
The Room of Requirement, or rather, the Room of Hidden Things.
It was filled with contraband hidden by generations of students, damaged magical items, unknown Potionbottles, and even dried-up biological specimens.
It was like a giant mountain of junk, yet it harbored countless secrets.
Julian ignored the clutter and walked straight into the depths of the room.
Behind a pile of rickety old chairs and broken books, he found it.
A tall, black cabinet.
Intricate patterns were carved onto the cabinet doors; though covered in dust and scratches, its former elegance was still visible.
The vanishing cabinet.
This was the entrance on the Hogwarts side.
The other end had already been purchased by him and was currently placed in the underground laboratory of Rosier Manor.
"Finally, we meet."
Julian reached out, his fingertips tracing the damaged runes on the cabinet door.
This cabinet had been smashed during a prank by Peeves, that troublemaker, causing the spatial connection to break.
Back in his first year, although he had repaired it once, it could only transport small objects.
But with the restoration manuscripts obtained from secrets of the darkest art and Borgin, this was no longer an unsolvable problem.
Reparo.
Julian waved his wand.
But this was no simple Mending Charm.
His magic flowed from the tip of his wand, turning into countless tiny silver threads that burrowed into the cracks of the cabinet.
He was weaving.
Weaving space with magic.
Harmonia Nectere Passus.
The low incantation echoed in the empty room.
The black cabinet began to vibrate, emitting a low hum.
Those silver threads seemed alive, reconnecting the broken wood grain and relighting the worn runes.
A visible black mist seeped from the cabinet—a sign that the spatial passage was restructuring.
It was a strange sensation.
Like stroking the veins of the world, forcibly folding two originally unrelated points together.
Sweat trickled down Julian's forehead, but his eyes grew brighter and brighter.
"Click."
A crisp sound of a latch clicking into place rang out.
The cabinet's vibration stopped.
The once lifeless cabinet doors now emitted a deep luster, as if they were an entrance to another dimension.
Julian pulled a rabbit out of his pocket, opened the cabinet door, and put it inside.
He closed the door.
He counted five seconds in his mind.
He opened it again.
The rabbit was gone.
In the basement of Rosier Manor, a rabbit should have appeared in the cabinet over there.
If the other side sent the rabbit back within a minute...
Julian waited patiently.
Soon, a slight thud came from inside the cabinet.
He opened the door.
The rabbit lay there quietly, only now it had some pink decorations on it.
"Perfect."
Julian picked up the rabbit and teased it for a moment.
The passage was completely open.
From now on, Hogwarts was no longer an isolated island to him.
He could transport supplies, Potions, or even people from the manor at any time.
Having finished all this, Julian was in no hurry to leave.
He straightened his robes and walked out of the Room of Requirement.
The night was still long, and there was an old friend he needed to catch up with.
...
The Dungeons.
The temperature here was much lower than in other parts of the Castle, and the air was filled with the bitter scent of formalin and brewed herbs.
Snape's office was at the end of the corridor.
The door was slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of dim candlelight.
Julian walked to the door and, without knocking, pushed it open and entered.
"Who gave you permission to enter?"
A cold, silky, velvet-like voice came from behind the desk.
Snape was bent over his desk, grading something; he didn't even look up, his quill making a harsh scratching sound on the parchment.
He wore his signature black robes, and his greasy black hair hung down on both sides of his face, obscuring most of it.
"I believe that as a representative of the Board of Governors, I have the right to inspect the school's security at any time, Professor Snape."
Julian smiled and sat down on the sofa in the guest area.
Snape's hand paused.
He slowly looked up, his hollow, deep black eyes staring intently at Julian.
"Rosier."
He spat out the name as if it were venom. "I thought you were busy enjoying your holiday in that luxurious manor of yours."
Chapter 143: The Layout
"Holidays are always short, Professor."
Julian picked up a Potion specimen from the desk—a toad soaked in green liquid—and gave it a casual shake.
"Especially when certain... dangerous fugitives are roaming around outside."
Snape's pupils contracted sharply.
He set down his quill, leaned back into his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest.
"If you're here to talk about Black, you can get out."
His voice grew even colder. "That is a matter for the Ministry of Magic; it has nothing to do with the school."
"Does it really have nothing to do with it?"
Julian set the specimen down and leaned forward slightly, his gaze meeting Snape's eyes directly.
"What if I told you that Black's target isn't Harry Potter?"
Snape let out a sneer.
"That madman betrayed the Potters and caused their deaths. Now that he's escaped, what else could he be doing besides finishing the Dark Lord's unfinished business?"
"Hatred has blinded you, Professor."
Julian shook his head with a hint of pity in his tone. "You hate Black. You hate him for the bullying he put you through during your school days, and you hate him for causing the death of Lily Evans."
At the mention of that name, Snape's face turned pale instantly before twisting into a grimace.
He stood up abruptly, his wand sliding into his hand in an instant, pointed directly between Julian's eyebrows.
"Shut up! Don't you dare mention that name!"
A terrifying magical pressure erupted in the small office, making the glass jars on the surrounding shelves creak under the strain.
Despite the pressure, Julian remained seated steadily, not even blinking an eye.
"Calm down, Professor Snape."
He changed his form of address, his voice becoming low and piercing. "I'm not here to provoke you; I'm here to give you intelligence."
"About the truth of what happened back then."
Snape's hand holding the wand trembled slightly, his chest heaving violently.
After a long silence, he gritted his teeth and slowly lowered his wand.
"Speak."
"Black is indeed a bastard, but he isn't the traitor."
Julian said slowly, "The real Secret-Keeper wasn't him."
"Then who was it?"
"Peter Pettigrew."
At the mention of that name, Snape was stunned.
"Pettigrew? That idiot? Wasn't he blown up by Black? Only a finger remained..."
"That was a Cicada shedding its skin."
Julian sneered. "He cut off his own finger, blew up a street, framed Black, and then transformed into a rat and escaped."
"That's why Black escaped from prison."
"He didn't come to kill Harry; he came to kill Peter."
Snape fell silent.
His mind raced as he analyzed the veracity of this information.
Though it sounded absurd, if it were that cunning, cowardly Pettigrew...
"Where is he?"
Snape's voice turned hoarse. "That... rat."
"Right here at Hogwarts."
Julian dropped the bombshell. "Right beside the Weasley family's youngest red-headed son. A rat that has lived for twelve years, Scabbers."
"Ha..."
Snape suddenly began to laugh, a dry and twisted sound.
"Right under my nose... right under Dumbledore's nose..."
A manic light flickered in his eyes.
If this was true...
Then he could personally seize the real culprit who caused Lily's death.
"There's one more piece of news."
Julian watched Snape's contorted face and decided to add more fuel to the fire.
"Do you know who the Defense Against the Dark ArtsProfessor will be next term?"
Snape's expression froze.
"Lupin."
Julian softly spoke the name, "Remus Lupin."
"The Werewolf."
"Bang!"
Snape slammed his hand onto the desk, and a crack instantly appeared in the thick oak surface.
"Dumbledore is insane!"
He roared, "Letting a Werewolf into the school! Right among the students!"
"It's what they call... inviting the wolf into the house."
Julian stood up and straightened his robes.
"Black is outside, Lupin is inside, and Peter is hiding in the shadows."
"The Four Marauders from back then are about to be reunited."
He walked up to Snape, looking at the man who was on the verge of a breakdown.
"It's quite a show, Professor Snape."
"And you—do you want to be a bystander, or the hunter?"
Snape looked up, his Black eyes burning with the fire of revenge.
"I will kill them."
He spoke through gritted teeth, "Every single one of them."
"Professor, calm down."
Julian patted him on the shoulder. "Keep Peter. We need living evidence to clear Black's name."
"Why on earth would I help clear his name?" Snape asked viciously.
"Because the enemy of my enemy is my friend."
Julian leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "Blackhates Peter, and he hates Voldemort. By bringing him over to our side, we gain a mad dog."
"An obedient mad dog."
"As for Lupin..."
A cruel smile played at the corners of Julian's mouth. "He is your prey. I imagine you would be quite happy to brew that... particularly bitter Wolfsbane Potion for him, wouldn't you?"
Snape looked at the boy before him, who was only twelve years old.
Beneath that handsome, elegant face lay a heart deeper than that of any Death Eater.
"What exactly do you want, Rosier?"
He asked.
"What I want is very simple."
Julian turned to walk toward the door, waving a hand with his back turned to Snape.
"Order."
"An order controlled by me."
He pushed the door open; the corridor outside was still dark.
After dealing with various matters, the holidays were drawing to a close.
On a late August afternoon, even though the air was stiflingly hot, Diagon Alley was still packed with students preparing for the new term.
The air was thick with the smell of scorched dust and the peculiar scent of various mixed Potions.
Julian held a Black parasol, walking composedly through the noisy crowd, and stopped before the conspicuous sign of Blanche's Magical Menagerie.
As he pushed the door open, a bone-chilling cold rushed at him, forming an extreme contrast with the sweltering heat outside.
The light inside the shop was as dim as ever, with various strange creatures making rustling sounds in their cages.
Blanche was leaning lazily over the counter, her ink-Blackhair tied casually in a low ponytail, with a few strands hanging against the side of her pale neck.
She was holding a small furry mouse with her slender fingers, teasing it nonchalantly.
Hearing the bell, she didn't even lift her eyelids; she just curled her lip, her tone carrying a hint of her usual sarcasm.
"Well, if it isn't our busy Master Rosier?"
"What, has the Greengrass Family's tender affection not drained you yet, leaving you with the leisure to visit my humble shop?"
Julian closed his parasol and set it by the door, his gaze sweeping over the clearly increased traces of frost in the shop.
"It's unnaturally cold in here, Blanche."
"Even if you were keeping a hundred Arctic Snowy Owls, it wouldn't bring the temperature down to sub-zero."
Blanche finally looked up, a hint of shrewdness flashing in her deep blue eyes. The corners of her mouth curled up slightly into a sly smile.
"Sharp intuition."
She let go of the small mouse, letting it roll back into her pocket, and then walked out from behind the counter with a cat-like step, light and silent.
"I've gotten hold of some big items. It took quite a bit of effort; those idiot Aurors from the Ministry almost caught my tail."
Chapter 144: Patronus Charm
Blanche walked to a hidden door at the back of the shop, stopped, turned to look at Julian, her eyebrow arching with a playful curve.
"Want to see? This is the shop's highest secret for now. Entry fee: fifty Galleons."
Julian didn't speak, merely pulling a gold coin from his breast pocket, flipping it deftly around his fingertip once, then flicking it towards Blanche.
"Enough talk. Lead the way."
Blanche caught the Galleon, looking at it somewhat resentfully. "Cheapskate."
"Follow me. I guarantee you'll like it."
Behind the hidden door was a narrow staircase leading underground.
As the descent continued, the temperature dropped sharply, and a suffocating sense of oppression began to fill the air.
It was the sign of happiness being drained away.
In the center of the cellar stood a massive iron cage, covered with thick black velvet.
Blanche reached out and gave a sharp tug, pulling the curtain aside.
Inside the cage, three distorted figures floated silently.
They wore tattered, greyish cloaks, like corpses soaked and bloated.
They had no eyes, only a gaping, putrid maw greedily sucking in the air.
Dementors.
Though smaller in size, appearing like juvenile specimens, the despair and chill they exuded were unmistakably real.
"These things are hot commodities on the black market."
Blanche hugged her arms, her body trembling slightly, yet she still spoke in that teasing tone.
"The folks at the Ministry of Magic think they're locked up in Azkaban, but accidents happen, don't they?"
Julian approached the cage, observing the monsters.
The Dementors seemed to sense the presence of living beings. They emitted a grating hiss, their skeletal fingers clawing at the iron bars, leaving streaks of white frost.
"What do you plan to do with them?" Julian asked softly.
"Originally wanted to sell them to the lunatics in Knockturn Alley, but since you're here..."
Blanche leaned close to Julian, that faint, feline-like aura enveloping him.
"I think you need them more. After all, Sirius has escaped. Hogwarts this year will likely be swarming with these things."
"Practicing how to deal with them in advance could be a life-saving skill for your little girlfriends."
Julian looked at her, a flicker of approval in his eyes.
"You're thorough, Blanche."
"Then, call them all here."
...
Half an hour later.
Utilizing the secret Floo connection between Rosier Manor and the pet shop, along with the Portkeys Julianhad prepared in advance.
The cellar grew lively.
Daphne, wearing a dark green silk gown, stood with a dignified and elegant demeanor beside Julian, her gaze wary as she stared at the monsters in the cage.
Astoria seemed somewhat excited. The frost magic around her seemed to resonate with the cold here, her heterochromatic vertical pupils gleaming in the darkness.
Hermione was the last to arrive. She wore simple jeans and a shirt, her bushy hair slightly disheveled, clearly having just emerged from a pile of books.
The moment she saw the Dementors, her face instantly turned deathly pale. She instinctively moved closer to Julian, her hand unconsciously clutching the hem of his clothes.
In her cat-like state, her perception of such negative emotions had become abnormally sensitive.
Surprisingly, Penelope Clearwater was also present.
Julian hadn't expected that Penelope, now in her upper years, would have spare time to come out shopping.
But since she was here, one more made little difference. She was, after all, a potential asset.
The Ravenclaw prefect was adjusting her glasses, scrutinizing the Dementors with an almost academic fervor.
"Julian, you actually managed to get your hands on these..."
Penelope's voice was slightly hoarse. She turned to look at Julian, her eyes filled with complex emotions.
"This is a serious crime in the Ministry's eyes."
"On the path to truth and power, laws are often just excuses for the weak, Prefect Penelope."
Julian walked to the front of the group, his snake-headed wand tapping lightly on the ground.
"This year, these things will appear at every entrance to Hogwarts. If you don't want your souls sucked dry during a casual stroll, you must learn that charm..."
Seeing that everyone had gathered, Julian analyzed the crisis they would face in the new semester.
Soon, the girls' enthusiasm for learning was ignited by Julian.
"Expecto Patronum."
Julian raised his wand. A stream of silver mist gushed from its tip, but under the Dementors' influence, it appeared somewhat thin.
"The key to this charm's success lies in happiness."
"Not ordinary joy, but that extreme positive emotion that makes your soul tremble and supports you through the darkest moments."
He looked at the girls, his tone becoming low and forceful.
"Close your eyes. Search for that memory. Feel it, amplify it, until it fills every cell of your being."
The Dementors in the cage emitted sharp shrieks. The lights in the cellar flickered.
"I'll go first."
Daphne stepped forward. She took a deep breath, her mind recalling the moment in the Southern French manor when Julian kissed her fingertips.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A faint silver flash formed a blurred shield, blocking the Dementors' encroachment.
"Not enough, Daphne."
Julian walked behind her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder, his magic seeping in through the point of contact.
"Deeper. Try harder to remember."
Next was Hermione.
She raised her wand with trembling hands. The Dementors affected her the most; she could almost hear the taunts of "mudblood" and the fear of isolation echoing in her mind.
"Ex... Expecto Patronum..."
Only a few sparks sputtered out.
"Look at me, Hermione."
Julian cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Think of happy things."
"You are mine, Hermione. Nothing can take you from me, understand?"
Hermione's pupils contracted sharply, golden threads blooming within the brown.
The thrill of that dominance instantly scattered the despair.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A powerful silver beam erupted forth. Though it hadn't yet taken a concrete form, it was enough to illuminate half the cellar.
Astoria's happy memory was simple—the moment Julianhelped her purge the Blood Curse, granting her a new life.
Her Patronus manifested in a translucent ice-blue hue. Though still a nascent form, it carried a startling chill.
Penelope, however, was locked in a difficult struggle.
As a Ravenclaw, her rationality was too strong, making it hard to immerse herself in pure emotion.
"Happiness... what is happiness?"
She murmured to herself until Julian walked up to her, pulling her into an embrace in a nearly rough manner.
"Happiness is the moment desire is satisfied, Prefect."
Julian whispered in her ear, his warm breath brushing against her neck.
"Think of your thirst for knowledge. Think of that irrepressible curiosity you have about me."
Penelope's body stiffened abruptly, then an unprecedented tremor swept through her.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A silver raven flickered into existence mid-air. Though it vanished in a flash, it made even Blanche widen her eyes in surprise.
"Brilliant."
Blanche leaned against the wall, clapping her hands softly. The sarcasm at the corner of her mouth faded, replaced by an inexplicable loneliness.
"Rosier, you truly are a genius of a tutor."
"Isn't this exactly what you hoped to see, partner?"
Julian turned, looking at the Dementors cowering under the silver light.
"This summer, we have prepared sufficiently."
He looked towards the window, though the sky couldn't be seen from the cellar.
"Third year..."
"The show is about to begin."
Chapter 145: Lupin
King's Cross Station, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
The scarlet hogwarts express was belching thick white steam, the scent of coal smoke and engine oil permeating through the bustling crowd.
Owls fluttered restlessly in their cages, the wheels of trolleys screeched as they rolled over the stone pavement, and partings, laughter, and screams intertwined to form the boisterous symphony of September the first.
Julian wore a dark grey pure cashmere overcoat over a dark green silk shirt, with an exquisite silver Rosier Familycrest pinned to his collar.
He stood on the periphery of the crowd, his posture as upright as a javelin thrust into the snow.
Isabella reached out to straighten Julian's collar, her well-maintained hands adorned with a large emerald Ring.
"Remember to take good care of yourself at school, Julian."
Her voice was elegant yet filled with boundless care.
"Of course, Mother."
Julian bowed slightly, his movements so standard they were flawless.
At that moment, Mrs. Greengrass—Chloe—approached with her two daughters.
Daphne was dressed in a lavender traveling outfit today, looking tall and cold.
Astoria followed closely behind her sister, her heterochromatic vertical pupils shimmering with clever light beneath the shadow of her hat's brim, radiating a faint, ethereal chill.
Chloe walked up to Julian; this noble lady, usually known for her composure, had eyes that were slightly reddened now.
She reached out and tightly grasped Julian's hand, her fingertips turning pale from the intensity of her grip.
"Julian... I don't know how to thank you."
Her voice was very low, carrying a hint of a tremble. "The Greengrass Family owes you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid. Astoria... she has been sleeping very peacefully lately. This is the first time since she was born that she hasn't been woken by the pain of that burning sensation."
"This is merely a testament to the friendship between the Rosiers and the Greengrasses, Aunt Chloe."
Julian gave a gentle and appropriate smile, lightly patting the back of Chloe's hand. "It is my responsibility to look after them."
Isabella raised an eyebrow nearby, a reserved smile on her lips, as the heads of the two ancient families exchanged a deep look amidst the steam.
"The train is about to leave, let's go."
Julian turned around and extended his arms to The Greengrass Sisters.
Daphne naturally took his left arm, while Astoria, like a lithe kitten, quickly occupied his right side, her small hand sliding into his palm, her fingertips cold but holding with a reliant strength.
The moment they stepped onto the train, half the noise was cut off by the heavy doors.
The corridor was packed with students looking for compartments.
Julian led the two sisters toward the rear of the train, where the compartments were usually quieter and more suited to his status.
As they passed one compartment, the door happened to slide open.
Harry's face, with its round-rimmed glasses, appeared; he looked somewhat haggard, with a lingering anxiety in his eyes—likely influenced by the news of Sirius Black's escape.
Ron was holding that fat, four-toed rat 'Scabbers', which was squirming restlessly in his arms.
Julian's gaze lingered on Scabbers for a tenth of a second, his lips curling into a cruel and hidden arc.
Peter, enjoy your final moments of freedom.
Hermione Granger sat by the window, holding that impressively thick book, 'Intermediate Transfiguration'.
The moment she saw Julian, the book in her hands shook slightly, and her body instinctively straightened, a flash of complex emotion crossing her brown eyes.
She gave Julian a slight nod, her movement somewhat stiff, the silver pendant around her neck catching a glint of sunlight.
Julian returned the nod politely without any further exchange, continuing forward with The Greengrass Sisters.
Finally, at the end of the train, they passed a compartment that looked relatively empty.
The door was open, and someone was already sitting inside.
The man was wearing extremely shabby, patched Wizardrobes and was leaning against the window, fast asleep.
He looked very tired, his eyes lined with wrinkles, and his light brown hair streaked with grey.
The compartment was filled with a faint scent of hay mixed with old books.
"Who is that?" Daphne frowned and asked in a low voice. "He looks like a vagrant."
"Remus Lupin."
Julian spoke the name softly, his gaze sweeping over the old trunk beside the man, which had 'Professor R. J. Lupin' stamped on it in peeling silver letters.
"It seems our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professorfor this term is already in place."
Julian did not continue to other carriages but walked straight in and sat opposite Lupin.
Daphne and Astoria exchanged a puzzled look and sat down as well.
The train began to move slowly, the scenery outside accelerating as King's Cross Station vanished into a hazy mist of steam.
About ten minutes later, Lupin seemed to be startled awake by the vibration of the train.
He slowly opened his eyes, which held a gentle but weathered fatigue.
When he saw the three elegantly dressed students sitting before him, he froze for a moment, then gave a somewhat awkward smile.
"Oh, sorry, I was sleeping quite soundly."
His voice was slightly hoarse, carrying a sense of long-term exhaustion.
"It's alright, Professor."
Julian spoke politely, his tone composed. "If you don't mind, we would like to rest here. I am Julian Rosier, and these are The Greengrass Sisters."
"Rosier..."
Lupin repeated the surname, a fleeting flicker of something strange in his eyes, as if recalling some unpleasant memories.
"Nice to meet you. I am Remus Lupin. It seems you already know my upcoming role."
"You don't look very well, Professor."
Julian stared into Lupin's eyes, his tone carrying a hint of appropriate concern. "Is it due to the fatigue of travel, or is it because of... the recent full moon?"
This sentence was like a fine needle, accurately piercing Lupin's spine.
His body stiffened for an instant, his pupils contracted slightly, and a flash of alertness appeared deep within his originally gentle eyes.
"Just a bit of low blood sugar, Mr. Rosier."
Lupin quickly masked it, pulling a piece of chocolate wrapped in tin foil from his pocket, breaking off a piece and handing it to Julian. "Would you like some? Chocolate always makes one feel better."
"Thank you."
Julian took the chocolate but did not eat it, merely fiddling with it between his fingers.
"I heard Headmaster Dumbledore personally invited you back. At this juncture with Black's escape, the school indeed needs an experienced teacher."
Lupin was silent for a moment, his gaze turning to the fields rushing past outside the window.
"Yes, in times like these, safety is always the priority."
Just then, the train's speed suddenly slowed down.
"What's happening? We haven't reached the station yet." Daphne looked out the window uneasily.
The sky darkened rapidly, heavy clouds like a giant lead plate pressing down hard on the train.
The originally bright afternoon sun vanished, replaced by a strange, greyish silence of death.
Click.
The train jolted violently and came to a complete halt.
The lights flickered a few times, then suddenly went out, plunging the entire carriage into pitch-Black darkness.
Chill.
A bone-chilling cold, as if it could freeze the soul, spread from the end of the corridor.