Hogwarts' John Wick

The moment Dumbledore saw Harry, he immediately began asking questions.

Upon learning that Harry had witnessed Arthur Weasley being attacked, he quickly instructed the portraits in the Headmaster's office to investigate.

The portraits in the Headmaster's office had corresponding frames within the Ministry of Magic.

At the same time, Dumbledore didn't remain idle—he brought a delicate silver instrument to his desk and sat back down in front of Harry.

With a gentle tap of his wand on the silver device, it immediately whirred to life.

It emitted a rhythmic dinging sound, while a small silver pipe at the top began to release wisps of pale green smoke.

Under Dumbledore's tightly furrowed brows and concentrated gaze, the smoke gradually gathered and twisted in the air. Within seconds, it formed into a steady stream of fog.

As the fog thickened, it began swirling in the air, the top part shaping into the head of a snake.

The snake's mouth was wide open.

"Of course, of course," Dumbledore muttered to himself. "But in essence, they are separate, aren't they?"

Harry couldn't make sense of Dumbledore's words. Then, the smoky snake in the air suddenly split into two.

Dumbledore's expression turned stern but satisfied. Just as he was about to end the device's operation, he froze.

His eyes widened in disbelief as the two smoke snakes turned into three.

He stared intently at the three snakes, and didn't move until the portrait sent to the Ministry returned.

Only then did he tap the silver instrument to stop it.

"Dumbledore," panted Everard, a former headmaster of Hogwarts, as he returned.

"Any news?" Dumbledore asked immediately.

"I kept shouting until someone came running," said the wizard in the portrait, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a curtain. "I told them something was happening downstairs. They were half-convinced—then his son came up carrying him, covered in blood."

"His son?" Harry asked in confusion.

Dumbledore replied, "Percy. He's also at the Ministry."

"Yes, his son saved him. Same red hair. He's being sent to St. Mungo's now. His son arrived just in time—if he'd been one second later, he would've died."

Ron finally let out a tiny breath of relief. Dumbledore turned to the portrait and said, "Thank you."

Then he looked toward Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, I need you to wake the rest of the Weasley children."

"Of course." Professor McGonagall stood and quickly walked toward the door.

Harry glanced at Ron, who now looked both scared and worried.

Harry whispered, "It was Percy who saved your dad."

"Yeah," Ron said blankly, "I've always hated that he worked at the Ministry..."

...

Ministry of Magic.

Percy was a workaholic.

The Ministry was in a state of chaos, and as the newly appointed department head, he had a backlog of cases to deal with.

He passed by his father's office and, remembering what John had said, knocked on the door, intending to go in.

But after waiting a long time without a response, Percy—being a Weasley—knew full well what kind of person his father was.

By the time he found Mr. Weasley, his father was already on the verge of death.

A large emerald-green snake had its gaping jaws wide open. Percy didn't have time to think—he drew his wand and acted on instinct.

"Stupefy!"

The spell interrupted the snake mid-attack. Seeing his bloodied father, Percy lashed out in fury.

But the snake was strange—it actually deflected the spell.

Realizing this wasn't a simple matter, Percy kept firing spells, pushing the snake away from his father's side.

Perhaps knowing it had lost its chance, the green snake cast Percy a deep, lingering glance, then slipped into the darkness and vanished.

"Dad!" Percy rushed forward to check Mr. Weasley's injuries.

Only after he brought him to the hospital did he notice his hands wouldn't stop trembling.

"Family..." Sitting outside, he ran his fingers through his hair, making a complete mess. "So this is why you didn't want me involved."

For the first time, Percy truly understood the kind of overpowering, irrational emotion that takes over when something happens to your family right in front of you.

He now knew—this was the reason John hadn't wanted him to get involved.

He was in the Constellation Society, but his family was in the Order of the Phoenix.

Weasley versus Weasley.

If something went wrong, it would be torment no matter which side it was.

Because Percy got him to the hospital in time, Mr. Weasley, apart from being injured, was no longer in life-threatening danger.

Percy sat by the hospital bed—one stared at the ceiling, the other at the floor—neither spoke.

"Thank you," Mr. Weasley broke the silence. "I thought, uh… you'd just go back."

Mr. Weasley looked a little embarrassed. A few months ago, he and Percy had a big argument.

Because of the Order of the Phoenix.

In Mr. Weasley's eyes, Percy's dedication to the Constellation Society was a sign of immaturity. He had hoped his son would contribute to the Order of the Phoenix.

But now, it was Percy who saved him.

In the pool of blood, he saw his son force that snake back.

Only then did Mr. Weasley, as a father, realize his son had become strong—no longer the boy sheltered under his protection.

"I want to talk to you," Percy picked at the dried blood on his clothes with his fingernail. "Was it Dumbledore who sent you there?"

"Sent me where..."

Percy looked at his father. "The Department of Mysteries."

"Sorry, Percy," Mr. Weasley sighed. "I can't tell you the reason."

"You almost died," Percy said angrily. "Why were you at the Department of Mysteries? That's not your jurisdiction! If Dumbledore wants something from there, let him go get it himself!" Percy shouted. "He shouldn't have sent you!"

"Percy!" Mr. Weasley barked sternly. "That's enough. Don't talk about Dumbledore anymore."

"Dumbledore," Percy growled through clenched teeth, standing up, "He acts like he's above everything, never caring about anyone else."

"Percy?"

A surprised voice came from outside—it was Molly Weasley.

She rushed in and hugged her son tightly, tears brimming in her eyes. "You saved your father, Percy. You're my pride."

The father and son, who were arguing moments ago, said nothing more. They just offered a few comforting words to Molly. Percy noticed his younger siblings and Harry standing behind her.

His gaze lingered on Harry for a moment before gently pulling away from his mother. "I have to handle things at the Ministry. I'll be going now, Mum."

"I'll send your Christmas present," Molly said, crying tears of joy, nodding as she wiped her eyes.

Percy walked past his siblings without stopping.

"He was arguing with Dad just now," Ron murmured. "I could tell."

Harry nodded. Fred and George, after confirming that Mr. Weasley was no longer in life-threatening danger, became very curious about the bandages wrapped around him.

…

"Department of Mysteries?"

John stared at the message Percy had sent him. So, Dumbledore's target was something inside the Department of Mysteries.

"Well, what a coincidence." John placed the Horcrux cup back under its cover.

Dumbledore's goal aligned with his own. A glint flashed in John's eyes.

He asked about Mr. Weasley's injuries and learned that the man had been attacked by a snake.

That left John feeling a bit puzzled.

"A snake?" John thought of Nagini, but quickly dismissed the idea.

He frowned. Where did the second snake come from?

That snake had intelligence—when it realized the task couldn't be completed, it retreated into the darkness and escaped.

Such intelligence wasn't something an ordinary snake could possess. The appearance of that snake meant they were competing with the Order of the Phoenix over something.

"So they're trying to infiltrate the Department of Mysteries. That must be why the Order stationed someone there."

John had figured out the motives on both sides.

Voldemort wanted to obtain something from inside the Department of Mysteries, and the Order of the Phoenix was trying to prevent him from getting it.

For Voldemort to go to such lengths to orchestrate a plan, that thing must be extremely important.

"Their conflict will bring me benefits."

Sitting on the sofa, John rubbed his fingers against the ring, staring at the Horcrux cup.

"The Horcrux is reacting again… and that same feeling of being watched."

John narrowed his eyes at the cup. Could it be that Voldemort was connected to the Horcrux?

He shouldn't have noticed anything… unless it was because John had tried to extract the soul inside the cup last time, triggering a sense of danger?

Whatever the case, the cup now needed to be guarded even more securely.

Click.

The clock's hand pointed to twelve. Christmas had arrived.

John was at Silverhand Manor. He stood up and walked to the balcony of the estate.

Outside, the patrolling guards wore cheerful smiles, wishing each other a merry Christmas.

Looking out at the peaceful scene, John murmured, "Merry Christmas."

He looked up at the sky. Above, a dozen thestrals with eagle heads and winged horse bodies were pulling a pile of presents toward Knockturn Alley.

Amid fireworks and joyful singing, this Christmas was filled with festivity.

________

Read 12 Chapters ahead: Patreon/Dragonel