I Swung a Sword at Hogwarts

Harry had never had such a terrible birthday.

His birthday was ruined by the house-elf Dobby, and now he was being punished with strict confinement.

He even felt like he might never be able to return to Hogwarts again.

Feeling a bit hopeless, Harry looked out through the gap in the iron bars on the window. Hedwig had lost weight due to the awful food over the past few days.

She sat there weakly, turning her head away angrily.

At that moment, the door—which was only opened twice a day—swung open.

Harry looked up to see John walking in.

"John!" Harry exclaimed in surprise.

John frowned slightly after stepping in. This place really was too cramped.

The sealed windows barely let any sunlight in. John gave Harry a small wave.

"Harry, Hermione said you weren't replying to letters, so I came to check on you."

Saying this, John sat down on the edge of Harry's bed and said curiously, "Why are you locked up?"

Just hearing about it made Harry angry. With full frustration, he said, "A house-elf broke in and told me not to go back to Hogwarts, then started causing chaos. Uncle Vernon found out I'm not allowed to use magic outside of school."

"You have no idea what I've been through during this time," Harry said, finally finding someone to vent to.

John was immediately puzzled.

"A house-elf caused you trouble?"

That didn't make sense—house-elves usually didn't go against wizards, let alone break into their homes to stir up trouble.

"Could someone have sent him?" John wondered if someone was deliberately trying to frame Harry.

"Could it be Malfoy?" Harry immediately suspected Malfoy as the likely culprit.

John was speechless. You two really are mortal frenemies...

But it didn't seem likely to be Malfoy. If it were, he'd probably have already written to John bragging about it.

Ruling that out, the next possibility was that the house-elf had acted on his own.

John was confused. What did a house-elf have to do with Harry anyway?

Only the ancient, wealthy wizarding families owned house-elves.

If it had been the Potters' house-elf, that might've made sense. No one doubted the Potter family's wealth.

John remembered reading that the Potters once developed a potion shampoo that sold out completely.

But the problem was, Dobby didn't listen to Harry.

House-elves couldn't disobey their masters. If it was the Potter family's elf, he wouldn't defy Harry's orders.

Both of them frowned, puzzled by the whole thing.

"Let's put that aside. John, are you here to rescue me?" Harry asked hopefully.

He had just heard Uncle Vernon scream like a slaughtered pig, so it had to be related to John.

Thinking of John's strength—he had once chopped off a troll's head—Harry suddenly felt a glimmer of hope.

John glanced at him and recalled the letter Ron had sent him. He shook his head and said, "I'm afraid not. You will be rescued—but not by me."

"Then who?"

Harry looked confused.

John smiled mysteriously. He had received Ron's letter.

Ron's father had told him that Harry had received a warning letter from the Ministry, and Harry hadn't responded to any mail.

So Ron planned a rescue mission, likely happening that very night. That's why John said it wouldn't be him doing the rescuing.

After all, he couldn't really call in a gang to kidnap the Dursleys. He was a law-abiding citizen—his threats to the Dursleys were just to scare them.

Though John wouldn't be the one rescuing him, Harry still felt a warm sense of comfort from their chat.

They talked about the holidays. John said he had gone abroad, which made Harry quite envious.

"Harry, be careful. I feel like it won't be long before Voldemort returns."

John said the name, and Harry's expression turned serious.

"I encountered a Death Eater in France. Just one, but that proves his forces haven't been completely wiped out. You need to be cautious. Maybe that house-elf's warning wasn't entirely baseless."

John didn't remember the plot of second year clearly. He vaguely recalled a secret chamber in a bathroom as a key plot point.

He warned Harry, hoping he'd stay alert.

"I understand, John. I'm really glad you came to see me. If only I had my trunk here—I could study," Harry said, realizing he needed to work hard too. But unfortunately, his trunk was downstairs.

John told him not to worry and went downstairs after saying goodbye.

Looking at the nervous Vernon, John said calmly, "Even if you're locking Harry up, you should at least let him organize his things."

Vernon immediately nodded. "I'll bring his things up right away!"

He was truly terrified of this young wizard, who was the same age as Harry. Even if he couldn't use magic outside of school, he could still summon gang members and make Vernon's life miserable.

He just wanted to get rid of John as fast as possible and would agree to anything.

So Harry's belongings were moved upstairs. Harry didn't know what John had done to make Uncle Vernon so obedient.

If he could make him obey, why not just have him let Harry go?

Harry didn't understand—but by then, John had already left the Dursleys' house.

Watching them see him off from the doorway, John nodded slightly.

Truthfully, he didn't hate the Dursleys as much as he thought he would.

As a Muggle family, the fact that they raised a wizard like Harry was already commendable.

That night...

John heard a roaring car engine.

He lived in the attic, and when he opened his window, he saw a green car flying through the sky.

It hovered outside the Dursleys' window. Inside were three red-haired heads.

No doubt—it was the Weasleys.

John stroked his chin and said, "This car is a blend of Muggle mechanics and magic—excellent alchemy."

It couldn't have been made by the Weasley twins; they weren't skilled enough in alchemy yet.

John remembered Ron saying that his dad worked at the Ministry's Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, which made him the likely creator.

"Interesting. Ron once invited me to his house—maybe I'll go visit and discuss alchemy."

He watched as the car's passengers pulled Harry inside. Thanks to John, Harry's trunk was already in his room, so they grabbed it and drove off.

The next morning, when Vernon Dursley saw the open window, he let out a furious roar.

He even suspected it was John who had the window removed overnight by gang members.

The thought haunted him for days. Dudley was grounded.

Petunia was terrified her precious son might be used as leverage.

Poor Dudley suffered, unable to even go out and bully other kids.

And all this had nothing to do with John anymore.

At the moment, he was writing a letter to someone named Ben Abbott.

After realizing he couldn't create a magical sword like Gryffindor's in the short term, John decided to shift his focus to enchanting.

Ben Abbott was a blacksmith, and John was commissioning a greatsword from him.

Ben's reply arrived a few days later—he agreed to make the sword.

Of course, John would pay, and also send the needed mithril and some special wood.

In just two weeks, he would have a brand-new sword.

The Hogwarts second-year book list had also arrived. John glanced at it and was stunned.

Besides the standard Standard Book of Spells, the rest didn't seem like textbooks at all.

Titles like Wandering with Werewolves, Holidays with Hags, and Travels with Trolls—they all sounded more like novels.

John remembered Hermione's list had the same books.

She even mentioned how entertaining they were and recommended them to John.

"Can Hermione see the future?" he muttered, confused.

He decided to put that thought aside.

John had built another alchemy lab in his basement. He'd recently crafted a few things there.

Maybe it was time to sell some of them.

Though his family was middle-class, alchemy came with huge expenses.

John decided to be self-sufficient—and ideally, find a professional partner to help sell his work.

Someone experienced—after all, his magical creations weren't pranks like the Weasley twins made, but genuinely dangerous items.

John thought for a moment. There weren't any professionals like that nearby.

Maybe he could find one in Diagon Alley.