Chapter 138: The Incident in the Slytherin First-Year Dormitory

“So, is the blood curse on Elshiona the same?” Shiven frowned, deep in thought.

Dumbledore gently shook his head and said to Shiven, “If you’re referring to the Gringrass family’s blood curse, it’s probably different from the one Nagini bears.”

“In fact, ‘blood curse’ is a general term for curses cast upon bloodlines. There are various types—it’s a very complex category of magic.”

“So, what will the blood curse ultimately do to Elshiona?” Shiven asked with some concern.

“Shiven, I’m afraid I’m not an expert in that area,” Dumbledore sighed softly. “If even Professor Enrix can’t answer your questions, I don’t know who else could.”

Hearing this, Shiven slumped listlessly onto Dumbledore’s large sofa, his spirits noticeably low.

“But don’t worry too much. We are already researching blood curses,” Dumbledore said with a comforting smile. “Everything will get better.”

“Let’s hope so,” Shiven nodded quietly.

...

The next day was the first weekend after the start of school.

Shiven maintained his usual habit and went to Nick Lemaire’s safe house to study alchemy.

“You look a bit down,” Lemaire noticed Shiven’s mood instantly and asked.

“Yeah, I’m worried about a friend,” Shiven forced a smile.

“If you want, you can talk to us old folks,” Mrs. Lemaire approached with a kind smile. “We’ve lived a long time and seen a lot—maybe we can help!”

“That would be wonderful!” Shiven’s spirits lifted slightly. After some thought, he said, “A friend of mine has inherited a very powerful blood curse from her family. It’s starting to manifest in her now. Even Dumbledore can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh? If even Dumbledore is powerless, you must be talking about the Gringrass family’s blood curse, right?” Lemaire glanced at Shiven and asked.

“Huh?” Shiven looked surprised. “It is the Gringrass family’s blood curse. How did you guess from just that?”

“After all, it’s known as the ‘Curse of Death’—a powerful blood curse. You might not realize how infamous it is in the blood magic community,” Lemaire explained. “Its status among blood magic is comparable to Grindelwald’s standing in the wizarding world.”

“Really… that powerful?” Shiven was stunned.

“In my six hundred years, I’ve often tried to learn new things, including some knowledge of blood magic,” Lemaire nodded slightly. “The Gringrass family’s curse is a classic example. It appeared long before I was born.”

“For a time, countless generations of blood magic experts were hired by the Gringrass family to solve the curse, but all those famed experts ultimately failed. That’s how the Gringrass family’s curse gained its formidable reputation.”

“I suppose they wouldn’t want their family to be famous for that,” Shiven sighed.

“Indeed, no family would want that kind of fame,” Lemaire agreed. “But since no one can solve it, it might as well become more notorious; that could attract more capable wizards to help.”

“Unfortunately, over generations, this bone-deep curse has shattered the confidence of many blood magic experts. That’s how it came to be known as the ‘Curse of Death.’ It’s now widely accepted in the field that the Gringrass family’s curse is unsolvable.”

“So, there really is no way to fix it?” Shiven furrowed his brows deeply.

“As of now, there’s no way to completely break it, but alleviating its symptoms is possible,” Lemaire said. “When you return to Hogwarts, you can have that young one who inherited the curse write to her family. They should have complete measures to ease the curse’s effects.”

“Alright, cheer up and don’t worry so much!” Lemaire gave Shiven a firm pat on the shoulder, only to hear a sharp crack from his own bones.

“Uh, your hand…” Shiven’s attention was immediately drawn to Lemaire’s hand, and he looked at it awkwardly.

“No big deal.” With an agonizing sound, Lemaire expertly popped the bones back into place. “Don’t worry for now. According to Gringrass family tradition, managing the curse’s symptoms properly can allow for at least another decade or so of peaceful life.”

From *My Healing Game*

“Who knows, maybe one day a solution will suddenly appear!”

Shiven forced himself to smile and nodded firmly.

...

That evening, back at Hogwarts, Shiven caught up with the still somewhat distracted Elshiona in the common room and comforted her to write home asking about ways to ease the curse.

Only after seeing her send the letter did Shiven begin to feel somewhat relieved.

After sending Elshiona off to bed early, Shiven suddenly remembered the daunting task Dumbledore had entrusted him with—making friends with Riddle!

He thought for a moment and quietly walked to the door of a first-year Slytherin boys’ dormitory, knocking politely.

“Is anyone there?” Shiven asked.

“No one… ah, no, wait!” came a gruff voice from inside.

“What on earth are they up to in there…” Shiven’s lips twitched, and he used a unlocking spell to open the door.

The dorm’s furnishings were similar to Shiven’s own room.

A green chandelier hung from the ceiling. Four beds lined the sides. Opposite the door was an unlit fireplace, behind which stood tall windows overlooking the dim Black Lake.

Inside were two young Slytherin wizards—one rugged-looking named Rostrang, and the other a small, slight boy whose name Shiven didn’t recall. They seemed to be engaged in some secretive activity and froze awkwardly as Shiven entered.

As soon as Shiven stepped in, Rostrang instinctively hid something behind his back and asked awkwardly, “Roziel, what brings you here?”

“I came to check how you’re settling in. Adjusting well to Hogwarts life?” Shiven’s lips curled into a half-smile as he looked at them.

“Our school life is going well, thank you for your concern, senior,” the smaller boy quickly replied, seemingly afraid Rostrang might say the wrong thing.

“What’s your name?” Shiven asked the smaller boy.

“Avery. I’m Pablo Avery,” he answered.

“So, you’re from the Avery family,” Shiven smiled kindly.

But the next moment, his expression darkened, casting a heavy pressure on both Rostrang and Avery.

He took a few slow steps forward, causing the two young wizards to instinctively step back.

“May I see what you’re hiding?” Shiven said word by word, his gaze fixed upon them.

...

...