The Hogwarts Express chugged along the tracks, its steam whistle echoing through the countryside. Hermione, having searched every compartment with growing concern, finally confirmed, "Harry and Ron are not on the train." Upon hearing this, John, who had been leisurely enjoying a chocolate frog, paused mid-bite. A thought crossed his mind. "Perhaps they missed the train. It's not a big deal. We can just write to the school, and they'll arrange for someone to pick them up."
As he popped the remainder of the chocolate frog into his mouth, John turned his attention to Neville. Since visiting his parents over the holidays, Neville had seemed noticeably more subdued. "Neville, are you alright?" John inquired, his tone gentle. Neville, caught off guard, hesitated before nodding. "I'm fine, John."
"Here, have some toffee," John offered, pressing the sweet into Neville's hands. His thoughts briefly lingered on Neville's parents and the devastating effects of the Unforgivable Curses they had endured. John himself felt a pang of guilt recalling his own use of the Cruciatus Curse, resolving to avoid it whenever possible.
Lost in thought, John's gaze drifted to the window just in time to spot a black dot in the distance, rapidly approaching. He blinked, disbelieving, as a familiar flying car zoomed past the train, its occupants' screams barely audible over the wind. "Mr. Wick, you're flying in the wrong direction!" came a voice from within, followed by a panicked, "No, we're falling!"
John watched in stunned silence as the car veered off course, narrowly missing the bridge the train had just crossed, before disappearing from sight. "I could swear that was my father," he muttered to himself. If he wasn't mistaken, the car had been carrying three passengers: Harry, Ron, and his father, Watson Wick. John couldn't help but marvel at his father's audacity to pilot a flying car as if it were no different from driving on the road. "All I can do is pray that Harry and Ron emerge unscathed," he murmured, folding his hands in a silent prayer, leaving Hermione looking on in confusion.
Canary Wharf car god? John mused, then quickly reassured Hermione, "Don't worry, Harry and the others will be fine." He added silently to himself, "Hopefully."
"Thank you, John," Hermione replied, her anxiety somewhat alleviated. She couldn't help but wonder if Harry and Ron would have the sense to write to the school for help.
Meanwhile, Harry and Ron were regretting their decision to trust Watson Wick, who seemed reliable at first glance. "John, John!" Ron shouted in desperation, convinced that only John could save them from their reckless uncle. Harry, having hit his head on the car's roof for the tenth time, silently agreed. Despite the car's sturdy build, Harry feared his head might not withstand much more.
Watson, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying himself. With a casual flick of the wrist, he sent the car hurtling through the air at breakneck speed. "Long live the Canary Wharf car god!" he cheered, his exuberance contrasting sharply with Harry and Ron's cries of terror.
Upon arriving at Hogwarts, the second-year students were greeted not by the familiar boats across the Black Lake, but by a line of horseless carriages outside Hogsmeade Station. Hermione, ever curious, wondered aloud, "What pulls these carriages?"
"It's the Thestrals, magical creatures visible only to those who have faced death," John explained, his gaze fixed on the invisible beings leading their carriage. The realization that he could see them, likely due to witnessing Professor Quirrell's demise, sent a shiver down his spine.
As they boarded the carriage, Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin girl, hurried to join them, her actions betraying her intention to be near John. "Hi John, long time no see," she greeted, her attempt at nonchalance failing to mask her true motives. John responded with a polite smile, welcoming her and the others to share the carriage ride to Hogwarts. When he saw her, he greeted her warmly. Despite being in the same house, his interactions with other Slytherins were minimal. Apart from Malfoy and his two cronies, Daphne was the one he conversed with the most, though their total exchanges didn't exceed ten sentences. Upon seeing Daphne, Hermione immediately felt a surge of natural hostility, a testament to the inexplicable intuition women often possess. She glared at Daphne, who responded by flicking her blond hair back proudly, shimmering like satin under the night sky. Neville sensed the atmosphere cooling. Was it simply because night had fallen?
The interior of the carriage was dim, filled with a faint musty scent mingled with straw. Once all the students were aboard, a procession of a hundred carriages made its way toward Hogwarts, following the dirt path. Pulled by Thestrals, they approached the main entrance, where winged boars stood guard on either side. The journey continued up the driveway, culminating at the stone steps of the oak gate, the grand entrance to Hogwarts Castle. From there, the students made their way into the Great Hall, soon joined by the first-year students who had arrived by the black ship.
Hermione scanned the room for Harry and Ron, feeling uneasy upon noticing John also taking his seat at the Slytherin table. Malfoy intended to sit next to John, but Daphne quickly claimed the seat for herself. "This is my place!" Malfoy expressed his displeasure, but a single glance from Daphne, laden with clear intent, made him reconsider. "Ahem, perhaps a change in perspective will be beneficial," he mused, acknowledging Daphne's pure-blood lineage, which rivaled his own. With a sense of begrudging gallantry, Malfoy found a seat across from John.
John remarked to Malfoy, "Draco, you've grown taller." Delighted by the observation, Malfoy eagerly inquired, "Really? By how much?" John gestured broadly before adjusting to indicate a modest increase, "About this much." Malfoy was thrilled, sharing his ambitious plans for the semester, including his father's promise to donate Nimbus 2001 brooms to the team. "With me as Seeker, we'll surely outmatch Potter," he boasted, unaware of the unfair advantage this provided.
John, however, believed Malfoy's skills were sufficient without resorting to such measures. "Your flying is commendable, Draco. There's no need for shortcuts," he advised, a sentiment Malfoy appreciated, though his father would disagree.
As the sorting ceremony commenced, John's attention was drawn to Ginny Weasley's unmistakable red hair. Snape was conspicuously absent, likely in pursuit of Harry and the others. John's speculation was confirmed when Snape entered the Great Hall with a stern expression, summoning, "John Wick, come with me."
Malfoy, sensing the tension, whispered, "What did you do? I've never seen Professor Snape so irate. Please, don't let us lose points." John, puzzled, could only respond, "I don't know, but I must go," before departing under Daphne's concerned gaze.
In Snape's office, surrounded by bottles and jars filled with potion ingredients and creature parts, John faced his living father, realizing the source of Snape's displeasure. John couldn't help but press his fingers to his forehead, a gesture of exasperation, as he observed Professor Snape. The irony of the situation was not lost on him: a man who had been deceived by the patriarch of another family was now, in turn, deceiving his own son. The complexity of Snape's character was evident in his actions, a blend of bitterness and a desperate attempt to protect, albeit in a misguided way.
As John's gaze met Snape's, he was met with a look that could only be described as murderous. Despite the intensity of Snape's glare, John sensed an underlying vulnerability. It was a look that spoke volumes of Snape's internal struggle, a man caught between the world of deceit he had woven around himself and the stark reality of his actions.
Feeling a surge of determination, John believed that Snape was not beyond redemption. The path to saving him from the web of lies and resentment he had entangled himself in would not be easy, but John felt compelled to try. He understood that Snape's actions, however misguided, stemmed from a place of deep-seated pain and a flawed sense of duty.
In that moment, John realized the importance of empathy and understanding. He knew that to reach Snape, he would need to navigate the complex layers of his persona, to offer a semblance of hope in the darkness that had consumed him. It was a daunting task, but John was ready to undertake it, driven by a belief in the power of redemption and the human capacity for change.
_________
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Direct Link to playlist
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_Hg-qsW4rM&list=PLKskshYG-OcPTR4-Nw7IWFEBZm07D8pBV&ab_channel=NovelAudioForge