John held a piece of bread in one hand, bringing it to his mouth. It was dry, offering nothing but a slightly stiff texture. With Malfoy having gone home and Daphne called back by Mr. Greengrass, the Slytherin common room felt much emptier, almost deserted. Heinrich, spreading jam on another piece of bread, placed it beside John. "Aren't you going to ask?" he inquired, noticing John's lack of curiosity about his injured hand.
"In Durmstrang, it's not uncommon for wizards to suffer bodily harm without even realizing it," Heinrich explained, his golden eyes appearing dull beneath his tousled black hair. His pale, handsome face bore a sickly expression. Accustomed to such circumstances, Heinrich began to serve John, taking on a role that seemed more than just friendship.
John frowned, asserting, "We are friends, Heinrich."
Heinrich paused, his dim eyes hidden by his hair. Shaking his head, he responded, "To me, you are the beacon of light that Edgar has sought his entire life." His words were sincere, leaving John momentarily silent. He had initially thought Heinrich's allegiance was solely about joining the Star Society, but now it was clear there was more to it.
"Then I'll trust you to watch my back," John declared, his expression serious.
A smile broke through Heinrich's sickly demeanor. Placing his right hand over his heart, he swore, "Behind you, there will always be a shadow named Heinrich Edgar."
John chuckled, "That doesn't mean we can't be friends, right?"
Heinrich, taken aback, felt a warmth in his heart.
...
There's always a price for dabbling in the forbidden: an eye, an arm, a leg, or even life itself. By comparison, John's loss of taste seemed trivial. At least he still had his handsome face and nose intact, right, Voldemort?
With Professor Lupin away for the holiday, John felt a bit more at ease. Lupin's keen perception had always made John wary, sensing that Lupin might have discovered something.
After a tasteless breakfast, John made his way to Professor Snape's office. Snape was under the impression that John had uncovered Lupin's secret as a werewolf, and John knew he owed Snape an explanation. Moreover, he was curious about the root of Snape's evident disdain for Lupin. Even without knowing the specifics of their past, the depth of Snape's animosity was palpable, almost as if Lupin had stolen his wife.
Arriving at Snape's office, John knocked. The door swung open abruptly, revealing Snape with a sneer upon recognizing John. This left John puzzled.
Intelligent individuals often communicate with minimal words. Snape stepped aside, allowing John to enter before slamming the door shut behind him. With a stern face, Snape commanded, "Sit."
John, sensing Snape's foul mood, complied. Snape retrieved a bag from his desk drawer, laying out various potion-making tools, among which a bottle of Veritaserum stood out.
John tensed, attempting to lighten the mood, "Professor, surely you don't need that?"
Snape's sneer deepened. "You've kept your lips sealed tight. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been deprived of gossip for so long."
Realizing why Snape was upset, John awkwardly scratched his head. "Is this about Professor Lupin?" he ventured, hoping to defuse the tension.
John had suspected that Snape and Lupin shared a bitter history, but the extent of Snape's resentment seemed far greater than he had imagined.
Attempting to change the subject, John reached for the tool bag, only for Snape to slap his hand away. Wincing in pain, John grinned sheepishly.
"Professor, do you hold a grudge against Professor Lupin?" John inquired, quickly adding, "Ahem, the students think highly of Professor Lupin."
"Not bad? That hypocrite," Snape began, his tone laced with disdain, revealing the deep-seated animosity that lay beneath their professional facade. "An ugly guy!" Snape nearly spat the words through clenched teeth as he recalled that group of infuriating Gryffindors: James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin. The four had formed a tight-knit group, with Snape frequently finding himself at odds with them. Their encounters often involved casting jinxes, and there was a time when Snape nearly lost his life due to Lupin. Back then, without the Wolfsbane Potion, Lupin had no choice but to isolate himself during the full moon, enduring the painful transformation into a werewolf. However, Sirius Black once deliberately led Snape into Lupin's hiding place. Although James Potter ultimately saved him, Snape never saw it as a genuine rescue, believing instead that James was merely afraid of the consequences of Snape's potential death.
Faced with John's inquiry, Snape's expression was one of indifference as he stared back and posed a chilling question: "What if the esteemed professor you speak of was involved in a murder?"
John was taken aback. Remus Lupin, involved in a murder? The Lupin he remembered, both as Johnny Silverhand and during his time at Hogwarts, seemed far removed from such accusations. Snape's demeanor suggested he was unwilling to delve into the past, leaving John to ponder the implications.
"He's a dangerous man, John Wick," Snape finally said.
After a moment of contemplation, John met Snape's scrutinizing gaze head-on and replied, "If that's the case, I know what must be done. But first, I will conduct my own investigation." With that, John stood, maintaining the decorum expected of a headmaster, and left Snape's office.
Snape watched him go, his gaze lingering on John's right hand, which hung limply by his side. Something about it seemed to catch Snape's attention, sparking a mix of thoughts and suspicions, but he remained silent.
Leaving Snape's office, John found himself deep in thought. "Lupin, involved in a murder?" he mused, stroking his chin. The contrast between the Lupin he knew and the one Snape described left John conflicted. He regretted not familiarizing himself more with the Harry Potter series before his time travel. Now, 11 years later, his memory was failing him.
Complaining about his predicament, John lamented, "Can't even get a moment's peace during the holidays." Between Azkaban escapees, Animagi, soul magic, Dementors, and now a murder accusation, John's year had been anything but quiet.
Seeking to heal his injured right hand, John made his way to the Room of Requirement and entered the Gryffindor Chamber of Secrets. There, he prepared a potion using unicorn horn, a rare ingredient. The potion, resembling milk, offered no taste to John, who downed it without hesitation, eager for any relief it could provide. His hand's tremors lessened, but he noted the dwindling supply of unicorn horn, a necessity not just for him but for Nagini as well.
Realizing he needed more, John decided to visit Hagrid, hoping the groundskeeper might have some unicorn horn stashed away. As he approached Hagrid's hut, he noticed a cat and a dog—Tom and Crookshanks—playing nearby. Not surprised by their presence, John was, however, taken aback by the sound of sobbing coming from inside the hut. Recognizing Hagrid's booming cries, John found himself wondering, "Why is Hagrid crying again?" And then, with a hint of amusement, "Wait, why did I say 'again'?"
Steeling himself for whatever emotional turmoil awaited, John prepared to enter Hagrid's hut, ready to offer whatever support he could to his friend. It seems that Hagrid finds a reason to shed tears every year. In my first year, it was Norbert, the fire-breathing dragon, and in my second, Aragog, the acromantula. I wonder, who will be the cause this year? Fueled by curiosity, I leaned forward and knocked on the wooden door. The sound of heavy footsteps approached swiftly, and with a creak, the door swung open to reveal Hagrid. He stood there, clutching a pink handkerchief, his face a mess of snot and tears. Despite his rugged exterior, Hagrid had the heart of a gentle giant.
"John, have you heard?" Hagrid's voice broke as he saw me, and he enveloped me in a bear hug that made my ribs creak in protest.
"Hagrid...please...let me go," I gasped, struggling for air.
Three years had passed, three whole years! I looked at Hagrid with a mix of desperation and resignation. Despite dedicating myself to physical training all year, I still felt utterly fragile in Hagrid's embrace. It made me question, is all my hard work futile when faced with Hagrid's natural strength?
Hagrid's tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve, coupled with his immense physical strength, often put me in these awkward, albeit endearing, situations. It was a reminder of the unique bonds formed within the walls of Hogwarts, bonds that were as diverse and complex as the magical world itself.
_________
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