NOVEL NEXT 120: Encounters and Experiments
Filch's Office.
Filch was eating ice cream, his face unusually lit up with a rare smile of happiness.
Mrs. Norris meowed softly, nibbling on a cat treat from Filch's hand.
One hand held the ice cream, the other a cat treat—it seemed Filch had reached the pinnacle of his life.
What was even more surprising was that his favorite flavor turned out to be mapo tofu ice cream, which left John astonished.
"If this existed in India, Gandhi would have been reincarnated yelling, 'This ice cream go back'." John thought.
All he could conclude was that European tastes were odd, and European wizards' tastes even odder.
While on his usual visit to groom Mrs. Norris, John noticed a bit of purple paper sticking out from one of the drawers. Curiosity piqued, he reached out and pulled it out.
Filch, preoccupied with his ice cream, didn't notice at first. By the time he realized, John had already seen the letter.
"Quick Spell Course?"
John stared at the envelope, and Filch's face shifted between shades of green and purple.
John wasn't feeling any particular disdain, just curious about why Filch, working in a magic school, would go out of his way to find a course like this.
"Give that back!" Filch suddenly snapped, angry.
He screamed and yelled, driving John out of the office. Ever since Harry discovered last year that Filch was a Squib, Filch had become a bit more self-destructive.
As a Squib, no one desired magic more than Filch.
"I can endure the darkness, as long as no beam of light shines into my world."
Seeing his siblings using magic had always been a deep torment for Filch. He was even kicked out of his family home, losing his place there.
Hogwarts took him in, and he desperately wanted to belong, but his inability to perform magic made him feel inferior. This also developed his habit of obsessively watching students for mistakes.
John was one of the few students Filch didn't completely despise, mostly because John never showed off magic in front of him. More importantly, Mrs. Norris liked John.
After being kicked out of the office, John had no choice but to head elsewhere.
Once again, John saw Tom trotting off happily.
"Don't go too far, be careful not to get caught by a Dementor," John warned, sounding like an overprotective father.
He figured Tom was just going to find Fang and wouldn't wander too far.
Indeed, distance erases all feelings over time. Now, Tom didn't even seem to care about that big black dog anymore.
As long as Tom didn't encounter any Dementors outside, everything should be fine.
John headed to the library, casually handing Madam Pince a signed note from a professor along with two small boxes of ice cream.
Madam Pince glanced at the ice cream indifferently, then at John's handsome face. She said coolly, "No food allowed in the library."
"I know, that's why it's for you," John grinned, looking both charming and elegant.
It had to be said that John's appearance was quite striking—reminiscent of a young Dark Lord, with the same deceptive allure.
Madam Pince let out a soft hum through her nose, quickly glancing around before snatching the ice cream.
The ice cream had a spell on it, so it wouldn't melt even after three days.
Looking at the note, Madam Pince said dryly, "It's expired."
"What?"
John was taken aback, only to see Madam Pince pointing at the signature with a sneer. "Gilderoy Lockhart's name doesn't count."
At that moment, John suddenly remembered—his time of unlimited influence was over.
For the second time, he was kicked out, even though he had brought a gift.
John left feeling frustrated. It seemed he'd have to return at night.
As John passed by the staff room, he overheard Professor Snape's mocking voice and Professor Lupin's calm, composed response.
"Lupin, it seems that Johnny Silverhand's appearance has made things easier for you," Snape sneered.
"Thank you for your concern, Sir Johnny Silverhand is indeed... quite the man," Lupin replied evenly.
Snape almost choked on his own words. Concern? He was clearly mocking Lupin—a werewolf who could hardly find a job!
Lupin, recalling Silverhand's ruthless methods, found it impossible to call him a "good man."
Seeing his former enemy doing well made Snape more miserable than if Lupin had been killed. His face grew so dark it could practically drip water.
"Lupin, don't think I don't know why you're here," Snape hissed, stepping closer, his face almost touching Lupin's.
Gritting his teeth, he lowered his voice, "The moment that man escaped Azkaban, you show up at Hogwarts. Don't tell me that's a coincidence!"
Lupin's eyes darkened, but he replied firmly, "It's just a coincidence, Severus."
"Don't call me by my name!" Snape snapped coldly. "I'll be watching you. You've learned a lot from Johnny Silverhand, haven't you? That ruthless man—maybe he helped you rescue your 'good friend.'"
The way Snape spat out "good friend" was dripping with mockery, causing Lupin's eyes to redden with emotion.
"Enough, don't say any more... it was my mistake," Lupin's already pale face turned even whiter.
Snape forced words out through gritted teeth, "He was never a good person, neither then nor now. He once..."
An unpleasant memory resurfaced in Snape's mind, causing him to take a deep breath as the chill in his eyes grew sharper.
Lupin knew exactly what incident Snape was referring to—it was indeed Sirius Black's fault, and it was an outrageous mistake. If not for James Potter, Snape might not even be alive today.
Knowing that he was in the wrong, Lupin chose to remain silent.
Seeing this as a victory, Snape clicked his tongue in satisfaction, then turned away, walking off like a giant bat.
But as soon as he opened the door, he was met with John. Snape's triumphant expression instantly turned sour.
"Mr. Wick, I believe you know eavesdropping is inappropriate," Snape said coldly.
John replied sincerely, "Professor Snape, I actually came to talk to you about something."
Snape stared at John's face for a moment before responding icily, "Somewhere else."
Following Snape out, John glanced back at Lupin.
Lupin smiled at him, appearing unfazed by the earlier argument.
Once they reached Snape's office, John explained that he wanted to borrow books from the Restricted Section.
Snape, with his usual sarcastic tone, said coldly, "I don't think a third-year student is capable of handling books from the Restricted Section."
And then John was kicked out.
For the third time!
John clenched his fists, feeling as if the whole world was against him today.
Taking a deep breath, he turned to leave.
Bah! It's just the Restricted Section—it's not like I haven't snuck in before. Who cares!
...
Meanwhile, Tom had obediently stayed nearby, just as John had told him.
Carrying her dog food, Tom ran all the way to the Whomping Willow.
Her short legs moved with an agility that didn't match his size, managing to avoid spilling even a bit of the dog food as she slipped into the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow.
It seemed to validate what John often teased Malfoy about: "Even my dog behaves better than you."
Once inside the passageway, Tom trotted happily into the Shrieking Shack.
A large black dog was resting inside, its fur a little patchy in places. When it saw Tom approach, a look of joy crossed its face.
Tom set down the dog food and tore open the package.
The big black dog eagerly dug into the meal, while Tom wagged her tail so furiously it looked like a helicopter rotor.
After finishing the meal, the large black dog "talked" to Tom.
Tom occasionally nodded, as if she was responding.
...
Having been rejected three times today, John decided to head to the Slytherin Chamber and focus on studying the Dementor.
Treating the Dementor like an experiment, John opened the box.
As soon as the Dementor emerged, John extended his wand, twisting it as if turning a key.
"Redi ad animam tuam," he muttered.
The Specter Charm activated. The Dementor, which had just crawled out, suddenly froze, and beneath its tattered, ragged body, something seemed to stir as if it were about to emerge.
"Redi ad animam tuam!!"
John pushed harder.
The Dementor let out a high-pitched scream.
The piercing sound was almost unbearable for John, and with a flick of his wand, he shoved the Dementor back into the box.
"The Dementor's body and soul are tightly bound. To pull the soul out, you'd have to tear it apart forcefully," John mused, recalling the sensation from earlier. It was as if the soul was glued together with powerful adhesive.
His expression remained calm. Since that was the case, he decided to try again.
Releasing the Dementor once more, John plugged his ears this time and cast the Specter Charm again.
The Dementor's body was gradually being torn apart by an unseen force, and just as John was about to succeed, his hand trembled. The Dementor stopped screaming, and its body dissolved into thick smoke and vanished.
"Dead?"
John stared at the spot where the Dementor had disappeared, rubbing his temples, which ached from the piercing noise. He hadn't expected to accidentally kill it, meaning he'd have to capture another one.
"A soul-like entity, but it seems more like it's pieced together," he noted.
With no one else around, John pulled out some parchment and jotted down his observations, realizing he'd need to catch another Dementor for further experiments.
The Boggart in the nearby chest had also gone still, as if sensing the terrifying events that had just unfolded outside.
After all, a Boggart is naturally timid, only taking on scary forms to frighten others.
Carrying the chest, John repeated his process, heading outside the castle to capture another Dementor for his experiments.
Some time later, the Ministry of Magic noticed that a few Dementors had gone missing.
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