Hogwarts' John Wick

At the guest of honor table, Dumbledore was conversing with Barty Crouch Sr.

"Where's Ludo?"

Dumbledore glanced around but didn't see the ever-enthusiastic Ludo Bagman anywhere.

Barty Crouch Sr., no longer maintaining his previously stiff smile, replied, "Ludo ran into some trouble recently. He won't be coming today."

"Ah, what a shame," Dumbledore said regretfully. "Tonight's ball is quite lively."

"Things might be even livelier on his end," Barty Crouch Sr. smiled meaningfully.

He had only recently discovered that Ludo Bagman had been trying to rig the tournament behind the scenes.

That revelation had infuriated him.

He had waited so many years, working tirelessly—finally, there was an opportunity to run for Minister of Magic, and this fool wanted to pull such a stunt?

Did he want to turn him into a laughingstock?

The moment Crouch Sr. learned about it, he decisively brought in professionals to handle the situation.

Of course, John had been aware of Ludo's scheming. He had just been waiting for Crouch Sr. to come begging for his help—after all, it was a great opportunity to make the man owe him a favor.

He had even made sure the information reached Barty Crouch Sr. through Percy.

And when Crouch Sr. finally came seeking his assistance, John had been more than happy to invite Ludo into Silverhand's office.

Disguised as John, Kim Ledisley had unhesitatingly locked the man up in Silverhand Johnny's exclusive shop garden.

Normally, imprisoning a Ministry of Magic official should have caused quite a stir.

Unfortunately for Ludo, the Auror Office was already under John's control—no one even came to investigate.

Barty Crouch Sr. also wanted to teach this rule-breaking troublemaker a lesson, so he didn't inform the Ministry at all.

With lies covering the top and deception below, no one had any clue that Ludo was being held captive.

And just like that, Ludo spent an entire day and night locked up, unable to escape.

...

"I was wrong, Lord Silverhand Johnny!" Ludo, stripped of his wand, lay sprawled against the wall, slapping at it in desperation.

Unfortunately for him, there was no way out.

Not far from him, a patch of thriving flowers made his skin crawl.

He suddenly recalled what Silverhand Johnny had said during the first task.

Among the flowers, he even spotted an unidentifiable bone.

That nearly sent him into a breakdown.

...

"What the hell is this deep-fried Tianshan snow lotus?"

"And spiced scorpion heads?"

"Stir-fried centipede legs in sauce?"

"This 'rat tail juice' is just too much—I'm a young man who values integrity!"

"Blueberry ink stir-fried noodles."

"Watermelon and grape stew with vermicelli."

"Hami melon explosive ethnic style???"

The banquet was set up in a self-service format—by reading aloud the names from the menu, the corresponding dishes would magically appear on the plate.

But John had a strong feeling that someone was messing with him. He looked up and caught sight of Daphne, who was looking rather shy.

What he didn't know was that this menu had been specially prepared by the house-elves just for John Wick—one and only.

It was their way of expressing their deep respect for him.

The dishes were inspired by a menu Daphne had "helpfully" provided, with the house-elves adding their own creative enhancements to the flavors.

"…I'll have a pineapple pizza, thanks."

Silently, he offered an apology to Italy—because at least Italians would only curse at him. This menu? It was out for blood.

Risking the possibility of getting beaten up by Italians, John finished his pizza.

He had no intention of touching anything else from that cursed menu.

Meanwhile, Daphne was gracefully cutting her steak into perfect bite-sized pieces, eating slowly and delicately.

Once Daphne had finished as well, Dumbledore stood up and motioned for the students to rise.

With a wave of his wand, all the tables floated to the walls, clearing a large open space in the center.

Then, with another flick, he conjured a tall stage along with the instruments on it.

While everyone else marveled at the display, John's eyes were fixed on Dumbledore's wand as he muttered, "Brilliant Transfiguration."

The famous wizarding band, the Weird Sisters, took the stage.

Despite their name, the Weird Sisters were, in fact, an all-male band.

They had impressively thick body hair and wore tattered clothing, clearly shredded on purpose.

Based on the understanding of the Muggle world, their edgy beggar aesthetic probably placed them somewhere in the rock genre.

However, despite their hardcore appearance, their music was slow and melancholic.

With a confident smile, Fleur took Roger Davies by the hand and led him onto the dance floor.

Roger Davies was already so thoroughly enchanted that if Fleur told him to go punch Harry right now, he probably wouldn't even hesitate.

Next was Cedric, who extended his hand to Cho Chang with a gentlemanly ease, leading her into the dance.

The fusion of Eastern and Western styles clashed beautifully, as both partners were undoubtedly among the most attractive people in the room.

Krum, ever the gentleman, gracefully invited Hermione to dance, and she accepted.

John suddenly caught a whiff of jealousy in the air.

He glanced around.

Oh, it's Ron.

Never mind, then.

John had no idea what Ron was thinking—after all, Padma was just as renowned for her beauty as her sister.

Yet despite having invited her, Ron wasn't sparing her a single glance. That was just plain rude.

The world of jealous men was truly baffling.

Finally, Harry took his turn on the dance floor.

The moment John saw his expression, he immediately understood why Harry and Ron were such good friends.

Because when Harry danced with Parvati, he looked like he had just swallowed a fly.

The worst part?

Mate, could you at least look at Parvati?

She was about two seconds away from stabbing him.

John was speechless as he watched Harry stare at the ceiling, utterly fixated.

What the hell is so interesting up there?

It was as if dancing with Parvati was some kind of punishment.

Just as John was enjoying the show, someone suddenly called his name.

He looked up—Daphne had risen from her seat.

"John, let's dance."

John's schadenfreude-fueled expression froze.

It was his turn now.

Seeing Daphne extend her fair left hand, he quickly adjusted his expression, put on a smile, and gently took her hand.

At that moment, all the dance steps he'd painstakingly practiced through sleepless nights flashed through his mind.

"It's our turn," John chuckled, stepping into the dance floor in time with the beat.

He lightly placed his hand on Daphne's waist. Their eyes met, and the dance began.

Spins, dips, waist holds, a half-turn to the left…

The black-and-white figures swayed in sync at the center of the dance floor.

Draco Malfoy had initially planned to invite Astoria to dance, but then he noticed her eyes gleaming as she stared, utterly transfixed, at the two in the center.

She didn't move an inch.

Draco was thoroughly frustrated.

He spotted Pansy standing to the side and moved closer, just about to ask why she didn't have a dance partner either.

"Get lost and don't bother me."

A swift kick sent Malfoy stumbling back.

He clutched his side and watched as Pansy and Astoria huddled together, looking as if they were about to grab bowls of rice and start eating right then and there.

"What's so interesting about this? Watching mermaids fight would be way more entertaining," Draco grumbled.

Goyle glanced over, shook his head, and sighed.

"Draco, if you keep this up, people are going to think you're really dumb."

"You're calling me dumb? You have the nerve to call me dumb?" Malfoy exploded with rage. "If you've got the guts, step outside for a duel!"

Being called dumb by Goyle, of all people—a guy who couldn't even pass an exam—was downright outrageous!

Goyle smirked disdainfully and said, "Oh, so you're good at fighting? Big deal."

He sneered, still holding a chocolate bar between his fingers. "In this world, it's all about power and connections. Which gang are you from?"

"My name's Ade. If you don't like that, just call me 'Young Master.' I can handle it."

Goyle walked up to Malfoy, flashed his teeth, and lowered his voice, "Oh, so you're just a little punk."

Malfoy looked at Goyle suspiciously, then jabbed Crabbe—who was sneakily stuffing a mini cake into his pocket—with his elbow. "Wait… he's not on my side?"

Crabbe, his mouth full of cake, blinked in confusion. "I thought he was?"

Meanwhile, the Weasley twins, lurking nearby, quickly stuffed a box labeled "Reckless Chocolate Bars" into their pockets and ducked out of sight.

After being briefly intimidated, Malfoy snapped out of it, flew into a rage, and tackled Goyle, grabbing his head and giving him a furious beatdown.

The commotion got so out of hand that Snape—who had been prowling around outside catching couples—ended up dragging both of them away by the ears.

"Draco, listen, that's not what I meant to say—"

"Shut up! Call me 'Young Master'! I can handle it! Didn't you just say fighting was useless? Here, take another kick!"

Outside, chaos reigned.

After finishing the dance, John felt like his face was about to cramp from smiling.

He held Daphne by her slender waist, helping her up, but accidentally used too much force, pulling her against his chest.

Daphne reacted as if she had just touched a boiling kettle, instantly pulling away.

It was just a brief moment of contact, but when John looked at her again, her face was so red that he thought she might have a fever.

"Oh.. Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

John's concerned question only made Daphne want to die of embarrassment. Covering her face, she ran off to the side.

John reached out in a dramatic attempt to stop her, but failed, standing there a little dazed.

"What was that about?" Scratching his head, he patted his chest. That impact just now actually hurt—he hadn't realized before that Daphne's head was so hard.

As he was about to step aside to rest, Padma from Ravenclaw appeared in front of him.

With a smile, Padma extended an invitation. "Would you like to dance with me?"

In the distance, the sugar-obsessed duo nearly charged in to tear this girl apart.

How dare she steal the house while our big sister isn't around?!

John glanced over at Ron, only to see that he was still staring at Hermione, completely oblivious to the fact that Padma had left his side.

He couldn't help but sigh, "Doomed to be single for life."

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