I Swung a Sword at Hogwarts

Chapter 51: Chapter 51: The Canary Wharf Speed King and the New Semester



The Hogwarts Express rumbled along the tracks.

"Harry and the others aren't on the train."

Hermione had searched every compartment but couldn't find Harry or Ron.

Hearing this, John put down the Chocolate Frog that was about to reach his mouth. He thought for a moment—could they have missed the train?

"Maybe they missed the train. It's no big deal. They just need to send a letter to the school, and someone will come pick them up."

He popped the Chocolate Frog into his mouth and looked at Neville.

Ever since visiting his parents during the holidays, Neville had seemed a little downcast.

"Neville, are you okay?"

He asked, and Neville was momentarily startled before nodding. "I'm okay, John."

"That's good. Want some toffee?"

John shoved the toffee into Neville's hand, thinking of Neville's parents, whose condition was caused by a curse.

"The Unforgivable Curses."

John thought of the Cruciatus Curse he had once used and figured he'd better avoid using it again if he could.

His thoughts drifted out the window.

He saw a black dot gradually approaching, and John froze.

He rubbed his eyes, unsure if he was seeing things.

A familiar flying car sped alongside the Hogwarts Express, screeching past. Screams echoed from inside.

"Mr. Wick, you're flying in the wrong direction!"

"No, not that way—that's a dive!"

John watched wide-eyed as the flying car nosedived, disappearing beneath the viaduct the train was passing.

He muttered to himself, "I think… I just saw my dad."

If he hadn't been mistaken, the flying car just now held three people.

Harry, Ron, and his own father—Watson Wick.

John's expression turned stiff. He hadn't expected his father to be so bold, actually driving a flying car like that.

Did he think this thing was just a normal automobile?

"Let's just hope Harry and Ron survive in one piece."

John clasped his hands together in a silent prayer, leaving Hermione completely confused.

What?

The Speed King of Canary Wharf?

Forgot to mention—there are more boats than cars over there.

Seeing the anxious look on Hermione's face, John tactfully decided to forget everything that had just happened.

"Hermione, don't worry. Harry and Ron will be fine."

He silently added to himself: probably.

"Thanks, John."

Hermione felt maybe she had been overly anxious. Harry and Ron couldn't be dumb enough to forget to write to the school… right?

...

Harry and Ron regretted everything.

Why had they trusted a seemingly reliable adult?

"John! John!"

Ron screamed frantically, calling out John's name as though only he could save them and make this crazy uncle stop.

Harry hit his head on the car ceiling for the tenth time. Thankfully, the car was built well—it hadn't fallen apart.

Of course, Harry's head might give out first.

In contrast, Watson was full of excitement.

One hand on the steering wheel, he casually pushed the car to 200 mph.

"LONG LIVE THE SPEED KING OF CANARY WHARF!"

With that cheer—and two miserable screams—they once again overshot their destination.

...

Unlike first years who entered Hogwarts by boat across the Black Lake, second years had a different route.

On a muddy path outside Hogsmeade Station, rows of horseless carriages waited.

As far as the eye could see, there were at least a hundred.

The lack of visible horses made them feel eerie.

"What pulls these carriages?"

Hermione asked curiously. She and John shared a carriage.

"They're pulled by Thestrals—a magical creature."

John stared at the front of the carriage. He remembered that only those who had witnessed death could see them.

"Could it be… Quirrell?"

He suddenly recalled watching Quirrell's body get taken over by Voldemort.

Each carriage seated four. After Neville climbed in, a blonde girl beat Ernie Macmillan to the last spot.

"Hi, John. Long time no see."

Though she tried to act casual, Daphne's eagerness to snag the seat clearly showed her intent.

John smiled in greeting. Though they were in the same house, he didn't interact much with other Slytherins.

Aside from Malfoy and his two lackeys, he'd probably spoken the most to Daphne—and that still wasn't more than ten sentences.

Hermione saw Daphne and immediately felt a natural sense of rivalry.

Women's instincts are often unreasonable. Hermione glared at Daphne.

Daphne, with pride, flipped her golden hair, which gleamed like silk under the night sky.

Neville felt the temperature drop. Was it just the night air?

Inside, the carriage smelled faintly of mildew and straw.

After everyone boarded, the carriages formed a line, moving along the muddy path toward Hogwarts.

The Thestral-drawn carriages advanced toward the castle. As they neared the front gates, John spotted the winged boars on either side.

They passed through the main gate, up the slope, and arrived at the stone steps by the massive oak doors of the Hogwarts castle.

Students entered the Great Hall. Soon after, the first years from the boats arrived too.

Hermione still hadn't seen Harry or Ron, and John's seat at the Slytherin table didn't help her nerves.

At the Slytherin table...

Malfoy had wanted to sit next to John, but Daphne snatched the seat before he could.

"That's my seat!"

Malfoy vented his frustration. Daphne glanced at him, her eyes clearly saying: Beat it.

"Ahem, maybe a different spot offers a better view."

Thinking of Daphne's ancient pure-blood family, as old as his own, he decided to be a gentleman.

Malfoy sat across from John.

"You've grown taller, Draco," John said.

"Really? I thought so too! How much taller?"

Malfoy was genuinely excited. His height had always undermined his presence.

He always thought if he had John's height, he could easily suppress that annoying scar-head Potter.

John gestured a large gap, then quickly shortened it to about two fingers' worth.

"About this much."

John himself had grown about that much too.

Still, Malfoy was thrilled and shared his grand plan for the term.

"My dad promised to donate a whole set of Nimbus 2001s to the team. Once I'm Seeker, we'll crush Potter!"

Rich beyond reason.

This single move by Malfoy turned the Slytherin team into the top dog.

What shocked John even more was how openly Malfoy abused the system.

"I think with your skills, you don't need to go through backdoor methods as a second year."

To be fair, Malfoy flew quite well. Not quite Harry's level, but among other students, he was top-tier.

John's praise delighted Malfoy, who agreed—unfortunately, his father didn't.

The Sorting Ceremony began, and John immediately spotted Ginny Weasley, her bright red hair impossible to miss.

Snape was nowhere to be seen. John guessed he was off hunting Harry and Ron.

After all, who else could make Professor Snape act personally?

John got his answer soon enough.

Because Snape entered the Great Hall looking furious.

"John Wick, come with me."

Even Malfoy, seated a table away, could feel the icy pressure from their head of house.

He whispered nervously, "What did you do? I've never seen Professor Snape this angry. Don't make us lose points!"

John thought for a moment. He hadn't done anything wrong—he'd been well-behaved.

"No idea. I'll be back."

With Daphne watching worriedly, John left the Great Hall.

He was led to Snape's office, filled with jars and vials—some rare potions ingredients, others preserved parts of magical creatures.

And there, John saw—his very much alive father.

Alright, now he knew why Snape was furious.

Other people's kids got their dads in trouble—his dad got him in trouble.

John rubbed his forehead. Seeing the murderous look in Snape's eyes, he wondered if this situation could still be salvaged.


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