The Mirror of Erised Appears Early

Yulian smiled and didn't argue further. He knew that in an era where Voldemort's shadow had not yet completely disappeared, prejudice against "Slytherin" was like an insurmountable wall.

"Regardless," he raised his Pumpkin Juice and saluted Harry, "Congratulations, Harry. The first first-year Seeker in Hogwarts's hundred-year history. That's so cool."

"Yeah, Harry, congratulations," Ron was genuinely happy for his friend.

"That's right," Kayson raised his cup too. "It's all Malfoy's fault. The first first-year Seeker should have been me."

"Hahaha."

Harry finally laughed and raised his cup. "Thanks! You guys have to come watch my first match!"

"Definitely!" Kayson immediately chimed in. "I'll be in the front row, and I'll cheer for you as long as it's not against Ravenclaw!"

The group burst into laughter again. The small disagreement from earlier was quickly washed away by the aroma of food and the boisterous chatter of the boys.

Just after parting ways with some Ravenclaws, Hermione took Harry and Ron to the trophy room to see the Hogwarts Quidditch trophies won by Harry's father, James, as a Seeker. Harry learned for the first time that his father had also been an excellent Seeker.

On the way back to the dormitory, as the three were chatting and laughing, they climbed a staircase that suddenly moved, startling them into crouching down and gripping the railing tightly.

"Don't be scared!" Hermione was the first to calm down. "Percy once said that Hogwarts's staircases move on their own. We can just go around and get back."

The staircase shifted nearly 180 degrees, taking them to an unfamiliar corridor, the one Dumbledore had mentioned on the first day of school – the forbidden East Wing corridor on the fourth floor.

The adventure of the three little ones had begun...

The Library was much quieter than the Great Hall, with only the sound of turning pages and the occasional rustle of a quill across parchment. Yulian had just said goodbye to Edgar and the other and went to the Library to do his homework. Edgar and the others, meanwhile, wanted to take a walk by the Black Lake.

It was almost nine o'clock in the evening. Yulian sat at an oak table in a corner, under a silencing charm, with a not-so-thick ancient tome – A Study of European Magical Ley Lines – spread before him. His fingertips traced lines of faded text, his brow furrowed.

It was less a book and more a manuscript, a handwritten copy or notes by a Wizard from some unknown era. Many characters differed greatly from modern script, and the handwriting was blurry and difficult to decipher.

"...Three nodes, established according to celestial phenomena, with stone as the foundation, blood as the guide... Do not disturb the sleeping dragon, it is not a mere saying."

The words were obscure and difficult to understand, but the solemnity and sense of crisis emanating from them sent a chill down his spine. Wasn't "Do not disturb the sleeping dragon" the Hogwarts motto? Did it have some special meaning?

Only after Madam Pince, the librarian, glared at him three times with an almost threatening look did Yulian close the book and carefully put his homework into the inner pocket of his robe. As he got up to leave, the sky outside was already filled with stars.

On his way back to the Ravenclaw Tower, he was lost in thought. As he passed a spiral staircase connecting the third and fifth floors, the familiar "click" sounded again. The stone steps trembled slightly beneath his feet and then began to rotate.

Yulian wasn't alarmed – having been moved around the castle many times, he was already used to its whims. However, this time, the staircase did not take him to the familiar Eagle's Nest entrance but stopped in a fourth-floor North Wing corridor he had never noticed before.

It was more deserted than the West Wing he usually walked through. The wall sconces cast a dim light, and cobwebs accumulated in the corners. The air was filled with a stale scent, a mixture of candle wax and magical dust. At the end of the corridor, a faint light emanated from a half-open door.

Yulian hesitated for a moment before walking over. He pushed the door open to reveal a moderately sized empty classroom. In the center of the room stood a tall mirror, alone. The frame was ornate gold, and at the top, a line of cursive script was inscribed:

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi

"Oh, it's the Mirror of Erised..." Yulian murmured softly.

He remembered Dumbledore telling Harry that this mirror could show a person's deepest desires.

The old Headmaster probably placed it here to allow Harry to see his parents' faces and find some solace under the pressure of fighting Voldemort. Of course, it was also for the later practice of retrieving the Sorcerer's Stone.

Since this was part of the old man's plan for Harry, he should have turned and left. No matter how magical the mirror was, to him, it was just a magical item with a story.

But halfway through turning, his steps felt rooted to the spot.

"My deepest desire... what would it be?" he chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Perhaps to go back to my past life and lie on my balcony basking in the sun? Or... in this life, to sit by the fireplace at Black Vine Winery with my parents and grandparents?"

Curiosity ultimately won out. As people often say, since he was already here. So, he walked slowly to the mirror and looked up.

There was no sunlight in the mirror, no fireplace, and no warm smiles of his parents.

Only a chaos, like the primordial darkness at the dawn of the universe. In the depths of the darkness, a long, rectangular black slate, its surface seemingly covered in star-like patterns, floated.

It was silent, ancient, yet it seemed to contain a power capable of tearing through time and space. The slate's outline was indistinct, its shape somewhat resembling the long cloth-wrapped item Lyria brought to school, but it exuded a resonance that stirred his blood, a call from the depths of his soul.

Immediately, a deep, hoarse voice, as if from the depths of the earth, sounded directly in his mind:

"Is it you? My guardian, the last bloodline of Black... Are you here to break my chains?"

Yulian trembled all over, as if struck by lightning. He stumbled back a step, his heart pounding wildly, threatening to shatter his ribs. He looked around, but there was no one there, nor did old Dumbledore suddenly appear.

But that voice was not a hallucination! The voice carried a clear will, the weariness and anticipation of a thousand years of waiting, piercing directly into the core of his consciousness.

"The slate..." he mumbled, his fingers unconsciously touching his chest, where the fabric felt slightly warm.

"Aren't you the Mirror of Erised?" Yulian asked with a trembling voice.

"No, the Mirror of Erised is the final safeguard left by the four founders, a beacon that opens only to a specific bloodline!" the hoarse, ancient voice sounded again. "The Mirror of Erised is here not to reflect 'desires,' but to identify the 'key,' the guardian's key!"

The image of the slate in the mirror began to rotate slowly, and the star-like patterns lit up one by one, outlining a star map he had never seen before.

Of course, if he had studied astronomy well in the future, he would eventually discover that it was the moment on the winter solstice night when the three stars of Orion's Belt were directly above the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower.

"Chains?... Bloodline?... Key?" Yulian repeated the words softly. Was he some kind of guardian? Related to the Black bloodline?

He looked up at the mirror again. The slate in the mirror seemed to tremble slightly, and the whispering voice gradually faded, eventually falling silent. The image also began to dissipate, returning to being an ordinary mirror reflecting Yulian's own pale face.

He stood there for a long time, unmoving. The night wind blew through the empty corridor, making a whimpering sound.

According to his original plan, although he was familiar with the plot, he only wanted to be an observer and have a peaceful student life, learn magic, and have some self-preservation abilities. The rest would be handled by Harry and the others.

But now, he, Shilam Yulian Black, seemed to have his own storyline.

He glanced at the mirror one last time and turned to leave. The door closed gently behind him.