Hogwarts’ John Wick

117: Well, He is my Employee

"Good job, Harry!"

Hagrid's booming voice filled the air. "Now, let's see how you handle Buckbeak."

He unclasped Buckbeak's leather collar, and the tension in the group skyrocketed.

Hagrid instructed Harry, "You've already made eye contact. Don't blink. If you blink too much, the Hippogriff won't trust you."

Harry was starting to regret volunteering, as his eyes began to water from the constant staring.

Buckbeak tilted its sharp, bird-like head, its fierce orange eyes locked on Harry.

"That's it, Harry... Now, bow," Hagrid said, his voice cautious, as though afraid of startling the Hippogriff.

"Ehm*" Harry, despite his reluctance to expose the back of his neck to Buckbeak, followed Hagrid's instructions.

He quickly bowed and raised his head, relieved to find that it was still attached to his shoulders.

Buckbeak continued to stare at him, arrogantly unmoving.

Hagrid, starting to get nervous, said, "Now step back, Harry. Slowly, just ease back."

He was worried Harry might retreat too fast, which could upset Buckbeak.

However, just as Harry took his first step back, Buckbeak suddenly bent its scaly front knees and returned the bow.

Hagrid, overjoyed, exclaimed, "Well done, Harry!"

The first lesson had gone so smoothly that Hagrid was convinced everyone would love the class.

Students: Gasp!

In his excitement, he said to Harry, "Alright, you can pet him now, give him a pat on the beak."

For Harry, it would've been much easier to just step back.

John, watching this unfold, also let out a sigh of relief. It seemed that even with dangerous magical creatures, Hagrid's knowledge was reliable enough.

Seeing Harry successfully pat Buckbeak, Hagrid went a step further. He promptly hoisted Harry onto Buckbeak's back.

"W.. Wha—"

Harry was utterly bewildered by this sudden turn of events.

"—aaAAHH—!"

Before he could protest, Hagrid gave Buckbeak a pat on the backside, sending Harry soaring into the sky.

...

"Haah.. Haa.. That.. was.. something.." After a brief ride through the air, Harry returned to the ground, still visibly shaken.

Seeing that Harry had managed just fine, Hagrid became even more confident in his teaching.

He instructed the rest of the students to pick a Hippogriff and give it a try.

John selected a black one and approached it, locking eyes with the creature.

'This is easy,' he thought.

Feeling confident, Draco Malfoy, believing he was back on top of the world, strutted arrogantly towards Buckbeak, completely forgetting all of Hagrid's warnings.

John furrowed his brow. Malfoy was recklessly tempting fate.

Buckbeak, seeing that this person wasn't bowing, immediately raised its sharp talons, ready to strike.

Hagrid let out a loud shout, trying to stop the attack, as it seemed Malfoy was about to meet his end any second.

But before the talons could make contact, a red spell hit Malfoy, sending him flying out of Buckbeak's reach.

"Aah! Someone hit me! I'm dying—" Malfoy screamed instinctively, clutching his hand.

Hagrid rushed over to calm Buckbeak, while John walked up to the still howling Malfoy and let out a long sigh.

"Tsk"

"Quit exaggerating. I used the Disarming Charm, not the Killing Curse."

"Oh—? It was you John.. ehm.."

John pulled Malfoy up, who now realized that he wasn't hurt at all.

Malfoy, suddenly feeling very embarrassed, especially under Daphne's scornful gaze, wished he could disappear into the ground.

"Looks like your courage isn't quite there yet. Maybe try a haunted house next time," John quipped, casting Malfoy a glance. If he had just paid attention in class, none of this would have happened.

He then turned to the two dim-witted Goyle and Crabbe, who were contemplating copying Malfoy's actions, and sighed deeply.

Thanks to John's quick intervention, Buckbeak, who would have otherwise injured Malfoy, avoided causing any harm.

John glanced at Hagrid, who looked utterly mortified, but he chose not to say anything.

After all, it was the first class. He decided to give Hagrid some face.

If something had gone wrong on the very first day, Hagrid would probably cry himself to sleep, especially since this was the position he had always dreamed of.

By the end of the class, John hadn't even ridden a Hippogriff himself, too busy keeping an eye on things for Hagrid.

This made Hagrid feel incredibly guilty, knowing it was all his spontaneous decision-making.

After dinner, John suggested to Hagrid that he should adjust his lesson plan, as not every class would have John around to supervise.

After today's incident, Hagrid realized just how dangerous these creatures were for the little wizards and agreed to change the upcoming lessons.

With that sorted, John went to the Slytherin Chamber and took a few books with him.

He spent the night in the dorms, cramming as much knowledge as possible.

He threw the responsibility of walking Tom onto Daphne, who happily complied.

…

On the third day of the term.

John heard shrieks coming from the Great Hall.

Curious, he walked over to see what was going on. It turned out to be people reading the newspaper.

Sirius Black had been spotted near Hogwarts by Muggles!

Seeing this, John didn't think much of it. After all, with Dementors stationed everywhere, even someone using Polyjuice Potion wouldn't be able to get in.

No longer paying attention, John found that Heinrich became cautious when drinking after breakfast. It was probably because of the psychological trauma of garlic essence.

...

The morning was Potions class.

Professor Snape seemed to be in an even worse mood than usual, though his attitude towards John had slightly improved.

At least now, John wasn't treated the same as the Gryffindors, but rather as a proper Slytherin student.

It wasn't clear what Snape had gone through to cause this change.

John successfully brewed a Shrinking Solution, earning Slytherin 30 points from Snape.

In just three days since the start of the term, Slytherin had already pulled far ahead of the other three houses.

The afternoon class, however, was one of the most dreaded over the past few years:

Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Given their past experiences, none of the students had high hopes for the new professor.

Professor Lupin entered the classroom, placing his worn-out suitcase on the desk.

"Good afternoon. Please put your textbooks back in your bags. Today's lesson will be a practical one. All you'll need is your wand."

A practical lesson?!

The students all glanced at John.

Aside from John who had acted as Lockhart's apprentice, no other professor had ever held practical lessons before.

This piqued their interest, and they eagerly tossed aside their books, following Lupin out of the classroom.

As they walked through the corridor, they saw Peeves the poltergeist mischievously stuffing chewing gum into a keyhole.

Just as Lupin was only two steps away, Peeves finally looked up.

Seeing Lupin, Peeves opened his mouth, ready to burst into song.

Lupin, being a gentleman, smiled kindly at Peeves. It brought back memories—he had dealt with Peeves often during his own school years.

"Loon—" Peeves began, about to call Lupin "Loony Lupin."

But the moment Peeves saw John, he shrieked in fear.

"No, no, no! J-John Wick is here! I've gotta get out of here, fast!"

Peeves bolted away as if his life depended on it, leaving Lupin astonished.

Back in his day, Peeves had never been that terrified.

Turning his head, Lupin looked at John's innocent face.

"I remember you—John Wick. It seems Peeves is quite scared of you."

John blinked.

He hadn't done much, really—just caught Peeves a few times to test out some spells about souls.

Who would've thought Peeves had such a weak psychological tolerance? Seeing John was like seeing a ghost—no, more like seeing the Dark Lord himself.

After that little interruption, Lupin remembered something Professor Flitwick had told him.

Flitwick had said, "If there's anything you're unsure about, you can consult John Wick. He was the assistant for Defense Against the Dark Arts last year."

A teacher consulting a student?

Now, it seemed that this assistant wasn't so simple.

Lupin glanced at John with a hint of curiosity but didn't dwell on it too much.

After passing through another corridor, they arrived at the staff room.

Inside was another professor—Snape.

John looked curiously at Professor Snape. He was sure their head of house had a class this afternoon.

As soon as Lupin and Snape locked eyes, the lingering grudges from their youth filled the air with tension, thick like gunpowder.

Even Neville couldn't escape Snape's biting sarcasm, which left Harry fuming, ready to throw a punch.

Scoff~

Snape shot a cold glance at Lupin before leaving the room, but not without pausing briefly by John's side.

"You might want to take note of something, certain people, certain identities," Snape muttered cryptically.

His words were vague, but they almost directly implied that Lupin had some kind of problem.

John had a peculiar expression. He suspected that Professor Snape was trying to hint that Lupin was a werewolf.

As if John didn't already know.

After all, he was technically Lupin's boss and had even generously supplied the Wolfsbane Potion.

Snape glanced at John, as if unsure whether he understood or not, then gave him a look before leaving.

Soon enough, Lupin's first lesson began. At the far end of the room stood a familiar old wardrobe.

Inside it was the Boggart John had captured last year from the Shrieking Shack.

Their first lesson: how to deal with a Boggart.

_______

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