In Hogsmeade Village, the only all-wizard village in Britain, John stepped into Honeydukes Candy Shop, a place beloved by young wizards and frequented by adults as well. The sight of candies shaped like cockroaches crawling around made John ponder the peculiar mindset of their creator. Picking up one of these candies, he experienced the unsettling sensation of it squirming in his mouth. It was overwhelmingly sweet, akin to swallowing a mouthful of syrup, so intense that it nearly choked him.
"Could I have some of these?" John asked the shopkeeper, maintaining a stoic expression as he crunched down on the candy. After spending ten Galleons, he filled his small bag with a variety of sweets.
Hogsmeade, though a village, was bustling with activity. John noticed Hagrid heading towards the Three Broomsticks and decided to follow. Inside, he ordered a Butterbeer, finding it pleasant, though he mused it might be better if served cold, despite the risk of it becoming too thick and greasy.
"John? What brings you here?" Hagrid, a frequent patron, exclaimed upon noticing John.
John gestured for Hagrid to join him, observing the Ministry of Magic officials milling about outside. "Hogsmeade seems to be attracting a lot of attention from the Ministry," he remarked casually.
Hagrid, nursing a beer nearly as large as a bucket, took a hefty gulp before leaning in, a troubled look on his face. "You know, Sirius is lurking near Hogwarts," he whispered, clearly struggling with whether to share more. After several failed attempts to continue, Hagrid's discomfort was evident.
"Don't strain yourself, Hagrid. You're seeking my help, aren't you?" John inquired, taking a sip of his Butterbeer. His demeanor shifted to one of authority, despite the absence of his Ring of Conjuration, which would have completed his wizardly image.
Hagrid, now feeling as though he was confiding in someone as formidable as Dumbledore, straightened up and hesitantly said, "John, you're incredibly powerful, the most formidable student I've ever encountered. Sirius will surely target Harry, and I hope you can..."
"Protect Harry?" John interjected, his tone indifferent. "Hagrid, you're not the first to ask this of me. I've heard similar requests since my second year."
Hagrid felt awkward, aware of the oddity in asking a student to safeguard another. "Harry isn't a child anymore, Hagrid. He's capable of protecting himself," John stated, declining the request. His focus was on studying soul magic, leaving little time for other concerns.
Hagrid, growing anxious, raised his voice, "You don't understand how dangerous Sirius is! He betrayed James, his best friend, and moreover, he's..."
Pausing, Hagrid's expression turned somber, "He's also Harry's godfather. I can't imagine how Harry would react upon learning the truth."
John pondered this, realizing the depth of Harry's potential anguish. The notion of avenging his father's death could drive Harry to recklessness, a concern evidently shared by the Weasleys. For Harry, this betrayal marked the onset of his misfortunes. John empathized, knowing he would struggle similarly if placed in Harry's shoes.
Hagrid, lost in thought, took another sip of his drink, the weight of the situation pressing heavily upon him. In the dim light of the tavern, Hagrid's expression was somber, his large hands wrapped around a glass of beer that seemed almost comically small in his grasp. "John, you have to promise me you'll stop him," Hagrid implored, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by a serious concern. Despite his bumbling nature, Hagrid's love for Harry was unparalleled; he was like a clumsy bear of a father, fiercely protective of his cub.
"I'll look after him, Hagrid, but you must understand, Harry isn't a puppy. I can't just keep him on a leash," John replied, his tone firm yet understanding. He knew the importance of ensuring Harry's safety, but also recognized the need for Harry to make his own choices.
Hagrid's face brightened at John's assurance. In his eyes, John was the most formidable student at Hogwarts, capable of outmatching even the professors. "Another glass of butterbeer, please," Hagrid called out, signaling for a refill as he noticed John's empty glass.
After finishing his drink, John stood up to leave. Hogsmeade had proven less interesting than he had anticipated, but his true purpose lay elsewhere. Cloaked in shadows and anonymity, John made his way to the Hog's Head Inn, a place far removed from the warmth and camaraderie of the Three Broomsticks. The inn was notorious for its unsavory clientele and the macabre decor of animated pig heads, their saliva dripping ominously from their fangs.
Seated in a secluded corner, John's presence was concealed beneath his cloak, his face hidden from view. It wasn't long before a figure approached, donning a white mask. "Sir," the masked man greeted, his voice familiar to John.
"Where is the item I requested?" John inquired, his voice calm yet commanding.
"Here," the man replied, presenting a silver-carved box. "We retrieved it from an old witch in Knockturn Alley. She had been using a child for experiments, but we've dealt with her."
John inspected the box, confirming its contents before nodding in approval. "Return to the shop and keep me informed. The Ministry hasn't taken any action against us, have they?" he asked, his voice still laced with a hoarse quality.
"No, sir. In fact, Cornelius Fudge himself expressed a desire to visit you, but I declined on your behalf due to your absence," the man named Tang Mi responded with a hint of admiration.
"Fudge's interest suggests Dumbledore is growing impatient, and Fudge himself is becoming desperate," John mused, shaking his head. "Fudge lacks the qualities of a competent minister. We'll watch and intervene when necessary."
With a nod of agreement, Tang Mi departed the Hog's Head Inn, leaving John to contemplate the ancient tome within the silver box. This was no ordinary book; it was a tome of Forbidden Magic, ancient and powerful, requiring careful handling. Its contents included research on the soul, including methods of soul separation—a topic of dark intrigue.
John didn't linger in Hogsmeade. Utilizing Apparition, he vanished from sight, leaving Daphne searching in vain. His return to Hogwarts was swift, his destination the Chamber of Secrets. Even Filch seemed surprised by his sudden appearance, and Harry, ever curious, could only watch as John disappeared down the corridors.
In the solitude of the Chamber, John opened the silver box to reveal the red leather-bound book. The moment his fingers brushed against its cover, a piercing scream assaulted his ears, reminiscent of a dementor's wail. With a grimace, John employed Occlumency to quell the cacophony, determined to uncover the secrets that lay within. After the mysterious voice faded away, John's expression visibly relaxed. He opened the book, which was filled with records penned in elegant cursive handwriting. As John perused the pages, his eyes widened in surprise at intervals. Once he had absorbed the information, he closed the book and, with a newfound determination, took the box to capture more Dementors.
Following the successful capture, John began his experiments with a solemn mantra, "Curse to curse, soul to soul, take care of yourself." As he worked, the Dementor before him started to disintegrate, piece by piece. Three hours swiftly passed as John remained focused on his task. Then, an extraordinary phenomenon unfolded before him. A human form, radiating a silvery white glow, was extracted by John's meticulous efforts. The stark contrast between the black and white was mesmerizing.
"Success," John whispered to himself, barely containing his excitement. The luminous human form condensed into a small orb, and with precise movements of his wand, John separated the black from the white. A triumphant smile spread across his face as he carefully stored the last fragment of the soul into a vial. He had achieved the impossible: a Dementor was not only dissected but done so in a manner that preserved its essence.
"Using another soul as a blade," John mused, his gaze lingering on the dwindling pile of soul fragments. His initial elation faded into a somber reflection. "It's a cruel operation," he admitted with a heavy sigh. Yet, the presence of Dementors offered a grim consolation; there were always more to be captured for his experiments.
John's venture into the unknown realms of magic was marked by both groundbreaking success and the ethical dilemmas that accompanied his methods. As he continued his research, the line between innovation and morality blurred, leaving him to ponder the true cost of his pursuits.
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If you are tired of reading I also have this converted to an audio novel on my youtube
https://www.youtube.com/@NovelAudioForge/featured
Direct Link to playlist
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_Hg-qsW4rM&list=PLKskshYG-OcPTR4-Nw7IWFEBZm07D8pBV&ab_channel=NovelAudioForge