Hogwarts’ John Wick

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The Hogwarts Express sped along the tracks.

"Harry and the others are not on the train."

Hermione searched every carriage, but could not find Harry and Ron.

John tossed the chocolate frog in his mouth after hearing this. He thought for a moment, could they have missed the train?

"Maybe they just missed the train," he suggested. "It's no big deal. They can write a letter to the school, and someone will come to get them."

Biting the head of the chocolate frog, John turned to Neville.

Neville had been a little depressed since he visited his parents during the holidays.

"Neville, are you okay?" John asked.

Neville was stunned for a moment and nodded, "I'm fine, John."

"Good to hear. Want some toffee?" John offered, shoving some into Neville's hand. He thought about Neville's parents, whose condition was caused by a curse.

'The Unforgivable Curse.'

He thought about the time he had used the Cruciatus Curse and decided it was best to avoid using it in the future.

As his thoughts drifted, John gazed out the window and saw a small black dot approaching.

He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and then looked again to confirm what he was seeing.

A familiar flying car was speeding alongside the Hogwarts Express. Screams echoed from inside the vehicle.

"Mr. Wick, you're flying in the wrong direction!"

"Not that, that's a nosedive!"

John watched in disbelief as the flying car plummeted past the train and disappeared under a bridge.

He rubbed his eyes, as if he was doubting what he saw and confirming it again. "I think I just saw my dad."

If he wasn't mistaken, the car had three occupants: Harry, Ron, and his own father, Watson Wick.

With a stiff expression, John realized his father had boldly taken the flying car and was now in a high-speed chase alongside the train.

Did he really think this was the same as driving a car?

"We can only pray that Harry and Ron come out of this in one piece after being with the Canary Wharf Car God..."

John clasped his hands together in prayer, leaving Hermione confused.

"What did you just see?"

"They are with the Canary Wharf Car God? It means they are fine, right?" Neville asked.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that there are more boats than cars there," John added.

"What? And what was that screme just now?" Seeing Hermione's unease, John thoughtfully decided to forget the incident he had just witnessed.

"Oh, it was nothing Hermione, don't worry. Harry and Ron will be fine."

'Probably' John added silently in his heart.

"Thank you, John."

Hermione realized she might be overreacting. 

...

Harry and Ron regretted their decision. Why did they trust this seemingly reliable adult?

"John, John!"

Ron was so scared that he frantically called John's name. He felt that only John could save them and make this crazy uncle stop.

Harry had hit his head on the car roof for the tenth time. The car's material was incredibly durable, not even denting.

Of course, Harry's head might give out sooner...

In contrast to the two boys, Watson was exhilarated.

With one hand on the steering wheel, he effortlessly pushed the car's speed to 200 mph.

"Canary Wharf car god forever!"

""AHHH!""

With a cheer, mixed with two helpless screams, they overshot their destination again.

...

Second years didn't enter Hogwarts through the Black Lake but through a different route.

On the muddy path outside Hogsmeade Station, a line of horseless carriages waited.

Looking down the road, there were at least a hundred carriages.

The absence of horses made the carriages seem peculiar.

"What pulls these carriages?" Hermione asked curiously, sitting in the same carriage as John.

"It's a Thestral, a magical creature," John said, staring at the Thestral in front of the carriage. He remembered that this creature could only be seen by those who had witnessed death firsthand.

'Could it be because of Quirrell?' he wondered, recalling how he had watched Quirrell's body being taken over by Voldemort.

A carriage could seat four people. After Neville got on, a blonde girl quickly took a seat before Ernie Macmillan could.

"Hi, John, long time no see," Daphne said.

Despite trying to appear casual, her rush to get on the carriage revealed her true intention.

John smiled back at her. Despite being in the same house, he didn't interact much with other Slytherins.

Aside from Malfoy and his two cronies, the person he talked to the most was Daphne, though even that wasn't much, totaling less than ten sentences.

Hermione, seeing Daphne, immediately felt a sense of natural rivalry.

Women's intuition can be unreasonable like that. Hermione glared at Daphne.

In response, Daphne haughtily flipped her hair, her blonde locks shimmering like silk in the night.

Neville felt the air grow colder, wondering if it was because it was nighttime.

The inside of the carriage was dark, with a faint smell of mildew and straw.

Once all the students had boarded, the hundred carriages lined up in a row and made their way along the muddy path towards Hogwarts.

The Thestral-drawn carriages moved steadily towards the castle, and as they neared the main gate, John saw the winged boars flanking the entrance.

Entering the main gate, the carriages traveled up the slope and finally stopped near the stone steps leading to the oak front doors of Hogwarts.

The students disembarked there and headed into the Great Hall. Soon after, the first-year students, brought by the boats, also entered the hall.

Hermione still hadn't seen Harry or Ron, and with John seated at the Slytherin table, she felt even more uneasy.

At the Slytherin table, Malfoy had initially intended to sit next to John, but Daphne quickly claimed the seat beside John.

"That's my seat!" Malfoy protested.

Daphne gave him a dismissive glance, clearly indicating, "Move along."

"Ehm* Perhaps a different seat would offer a better view," Malfoy said, clearing his throat. Considering Daphne's ancient pure-blood lineage, which matched his own, he swore it was his gentlemanly nature prompting him to yield.

Malfoy then took a seat opposite John. John remarked, "Draco, you've grown taller."

"Really? I think so too. How much taller do you think I've gotten?" Malfoy asked eagerly.

Talking about this made Malfoy genuinely happy.

To be honest, his height had never been enough to project the presence he desired.

He always felt that if he had John's height, he could easily overpower the annoying scar-headed Potter.

John held his hand up to show a significant amount, then reconsidered and adjusted it to the width of two fingers. "About this much."

By the way, John had also grown taller, about the same two-finger width.

But Malfoy was still very pleased.

He excitedly shared his grand plan for the term with John.

"My father promised to donate a batch of Nimbus 2001s to the team. Once I become the Seeker, we'll definitely crush Potter."

Unbelievable wealth.

Malfoy's move to directly double down on his investment had turned the Slytherin team into the new lords of the pitch.

What surprised John even more was how adeptly Malfoy played the system with this blatant backdoor move.

"I think with your skills, there's no need to use backdoor tactics in your second year."

To be fair, Malfoy was quite good at flying. While not on par with Harry, he was among the best of the other students.

John's compliment pleased Malfoy immensely. He felt the same way, though Mr. Malfoy didn't agree.

The Sorting Ceremony began, and John immediately spotted Ginny Weasley. Her red hair was just too noticeable.

Snape was nowhere to be found, and John guessed he was out looking for Harry and the others.

After all, besides Harry, who else could make Professor Snape act personally?

John soon got his answer.

Professor Snape stormed into the Great Hall with a dark expression.

"John Wick, come with me."

Even from a table's length away, Malfoy could feel the oppressive aura emanating from their head of house.

He couldn't help but ask quietly, "What did you do? I've never seen Professor Snape this angry. Don't get us in trouble and lose points."

John thought for a moment.

He hadn't done anything wrong. He'd been following the rules.

"No idea, but I have to go."

Under Daphne's worried gaze, John left the Great Hall.

He was taken to Snape's office, a place filled with numerous jars and bottles, containing either valuable potion ingredients or parts cut from various creatures.

There, John saw his own father.

'Oh..'

Alright, now he understood why Professor Snape was furious.

Other people's sons cause trouble for their fathers, but in his case, it was the father causing trouble for the son.

John couldn't help but facepalm. Seeing the murderous look in Professor Snape's eyes, he thought there might still be a chance to salvage the situation.

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