Hogwarts' John Wick

Finally, Dumbledore emphasized the binding nature of the Goblet of Fire contract. 

Once the contract is formed, if your name flies out of the goblet, you cannot refuse to compete. 

This caused some of the eager young wizards, who had been itching to make a name for themselves, to calm down. 

The Goblet of Fire was placed in the entrance hall, sitting on the stool usually reserved for the Sorting Hat. 

As the feast concluded, everyone began to leave. 

"All right, back to the ship," Karkaroff said as he approached the Slytherin table, speaking warmly and caringly to Krum. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Are you full? Shall I have someone bring you some hot mulled wine from the kitchen?" 

His attitude was kind and gentle, like that of a headmaster who deeply cared for his students. 

However, when another Durmstrang student, eyes gleaming with anticipation, asked if he could have some mulled wine too, Karkaroff's demeanor changed in an instant. 

"I wasn't talking to you, Polyakov!" Karkaroff snapped harshly. 

"And I see you've spilled food on the front of your robes again, you troublesome boy!" 

The speed of his attitude shift left the Slytherins utterly dumbfounded. 

Goyle leaned over and whispered to the person next to him, "Is he Krum's dad?" 

It wasn't just him—other students were starting to think the same thing. 

Karkaroff overheard this and shot a vicious glare at Goyle. 

John chuckled softly. It seemed that favoritism was present in every school. 

Madame Maxime led her students over, and Karkaroff's expression immediately changed, as if nothing had happened. 

"John, we meet again," Madame Maxime greeted him warmly, clearly in a good mood. 

The Beauxbatons students curiously looked over. John stood up, neither overbearing nor servile, and replied, "It's an honor, Madame Maxime. Hogwarts has many interesting places. I hope you all enjoy your stay." 

His demeanor was impeccable, leaving the Beauxbatons students visibly impressed. 

"You're still the same, making me feel like I should take you to Beauxbatons," Madame Maxime said, pausing before adding, "But it seems you don't need that now." 

She glanced at the Slytherin table, where several students were glaring at her. 

She smiled, gave Karkaroff a polite nod, and then led her students away. 

Fleur blinked, touched her badge, and indicated she would attend the Constellation Society gathering. 

It was only then that Karkaroff turned his attention to John. When his gaze shifted to Heinrich beside him, a complicated expression flickered in his eyes. 

"Heinrich, you should come with with us," Karkaroff said. 

"Fine, but Headmaster Karkaroff, we're not that close," Heinrich replied as he stood, completely unfazed by Karkaroff's darkened expression. 

He gave John a slight bow and walked straight toward the door. 

Karkaroff, with a dark expression, followed behind. 

As he reached the door, he came face to face with the Trio. 

Karkaroff froze. 

His eyes widened as if he had seen something unbelievable, leaving him completely stunned. 

"Yes, that's Harry Potter!" 

A furious roar erupted. Moody stood behind him, his heavy body leaning on his staff, the blue magical eye fixed on Karkaroff. 

At the sight of Moody, Karkaroff seemed to recall something, and his face quickly turned deathly pale. 

This scene didn't escape the others' notice, and Heinrich's lips curled into a mocking smile. 

"Scared, Headmaster Karkaroff?" 

His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the air sharply. 

Karkaroff's eyes widened further as he stared at Moody. "It's you?" 

"Unless you've got something to say to Potter, you'd better keep moving." 

The Durmstrang group blocked the doorway, leaving no room for argument. 

Karkaroff said nothing, glaring at Heinrich before silently walking away. 

"Look at that, our great Potter, always traveling with his babysitters," Malfoy sneered. 

Harry was about to leave, but upon hearing this, he couldn't help turning to look. 

It was Malfoy, grinning in a way that begged for a punch. 

He pretended to faint dramatically, while Goyle and Crabbe played the role of doting nannies, fussing over Malfoy with exaggerated care. 

The sight made Harry's anger surge. 

Moody came over and pulled him back, his gruff voice softening as he said, "Don't pay them any mind." 

Harry turned away without a word and walked off. 

Moody took a few steps, then turned back to cast a long, penetrating look in the direction of Slytherin. 

... 

The Constellation Society's secret chamber. 

The lighting was dimmed, with starlight projected from the dome ceiling. Various glowing texts of different colors floated in the air, dispersing and reassembling when touched. 

The hazy beauty of the scene was utterly enchanting. 

A luminous white wine trickled into crystal glasses, its sweet, fruity aroma spreading delightfully through the room. 

This was Fleur's first time entering the Constellation Society's chamber, and everything inside fascinated her. 

The round table was already filled, except for the seat directly opposite John. 

"I'm very glad," John said with a light chuckle, holding his crystal glass delicately. "The stars have gathered together. This toast is to Fleur Delacour, our dear friend, for joining us here." 

He raised his crystal glass, and the others smiled as they followed suit. 

The wine slipped down their throats with a sweet yet slightly tangy flavor. It was cool as it went down but left a warm sensation throughout the body. 

It was Fleur's first time tasting such wine, and she couldn't help but savor it for a while. 

A shooting star fell from the dome above, landing in their glasses and turning into wine, filling the glass once again. 

"This toast is for our graduated friend, Percy Weasley," John continued. 

Percy wore a smile, his demeanor showing a bit of the maturity he had gained since leaving school and stepping into the working world. 

As the gathering continued, everyone shared their conversations—discussing the situations in various schools and venting about work-related matters. 

Eventually, the topic shifted to the Triwizard Tournament. 

As Barty Crouch's assistant, Percy knew a lot of insider details. 

Malfoy, after downing a few glasses of wine, let out a small burp and asked, "John, are you going to join the Tournament this time?" 

The three eligible participants at the gathering all paused, their gazes fixed on John. Their eyes sparkled with anticipation, competitiveness, and an eagerness to prove themselves. 

John took a sip of his wine, then shook his head with a faint smile. "I won't be entering." 

The three looked somewhat disappointed. They had no doubt whatsoever that John could bypass Dumbledore's age line. 

Whether it was Fleur, Heinrich, or Cedric, they—all of the Constellation Society—had complete confidence in John. 

The gathering came to an end. 

...

The next day was Saturday. 

Students who usually loved to sleep in were, for once, all up and about early. 

In the entrance hall, at least twenty people had gathered. 

They were all carefully observing the Goblet of Fire. 

The Golden Trio was there too. Ron eagerly asked a third-year girl, "Has anyone put their name in yet?" 

"Yes, the Durmstrang lot," the girl replied. "I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts sign up yet." 

"Bet someone snuck in last night while we were sleeping," Harry said. "If it were me, that's what I'd do." 

As they watched, laughter erupted behind them. 

It was Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. 

The three came down the stairs, visibly excited. 

"Done it," Fred said smugly to the trio. "Just drank it." 

Fred and George had come up with the idea of using Aging Potion the day before. 

Now, they'd already drunk it. 

Since they were only a few months shy of the age limit, they were brimming with confidence. 

"I don't think it's going to work," Hermione said skeptically, clearly unimpressed. "This is Dumbledore's magic we're talking about—I'm certain he would have accounted for that." 

The three ignored her, trembling with excitement. 

The Weasley twins held up their pre-written names on parchment. In full view of everyone, they leapt toward the Goblet of Fire like they were diving into a pool. 

At first, nothing happened. They burst into triumphant laughter. 

But the next second, they were both flung backward and landed on the ground, their hair and beards suddenly long, white, and bushy. 

The twins sat up, laughing hysterically at first, but then they couldn't help but start bickering and tugging at each other's new facial hair. 

Dumbledore, having witnessed the scene, stroked his own beard, as though comparing its quality to theirs. 

He kindly informed the group that several others had already tried the same idiotic tactic of using Aging Potion to bypass the age line. 

After that, Dumbledore walked back into the Great Hall. 

John arrived with Malfoy, and when he saw the twins' beards, he couldn't help but laugh. 

Entering the Great Hall, he noticed it had already been transformed into Halloween decorations, with bats and pumpkins as the timeless theme. 

They were loudly discussing who had already thrown their name into the Goblet of Fire. 

John didn't care and casually picked up a piece of bread to eat. 

He was thankful that Daphne had overslept today due to being hungover. He'd heard that she had planned to prepare a special asian dish she learned from Master Chang's book.

Cedric asked Cho about the dish's name and told John that it was a pork dish and Daphne wanted to add cherry as the core.

Yeah, I should probably kill that Cheng or Chang guy before it's too late. John thought. He was probably joking about the killing part... but he looked serious.

Cheers erupted from outside as someone else put their name into the Goblet, breaking John's dangerous chain of thought. 

It was Angelina Johnson, a Chaser from the Gryffindor Quidditch team—a tall girl with dark skin. 

The trio of Harry, Ron, and Hermione were delighted. Seamus Finnigan chimed in, "Yeah, better her than that pretty boy Cedric Diggory." 

For some reason, Gryffindors seemed to believe no one from the other houses deserved to be a Champion. 

Hearing this, Malfoy couldn't resist mocking, "Pretty boy? Cedric could crush you with one hand. Harry should know that better than anyone." 

With that one sentence, Malfoy successfully drew all the animosity toward himself. 

This was a skill unique to Malfoy, a consistent top-three contender on Hogwarts' "Most Hated Students" list. 

Ron glared at him and shouted, "That's because of the Dementors! Harry still beat you!" 

"Sure," Malfoy sneered, "but my team won, didn't it? Unlike you lot, whose sole purpose seems to be making the Boy Who Lived look good." 

"Oh, and by the way," Malfoy added, twisting his mouth with practiced malice, "it was John who drove off the Dementors that day, not Harry fainting from fear." 

Malfoy's barbed words made him seem like he'd graduated top of his class from the League of Insults. 

"Is that so? John's so great, but he can't become a Champion!" Ron blurted out carelessly. 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the atmosphere froze.

Not just the Slytherins, but even the other students fell silent. 

The strange tension in the air made Ron finally realize that his mouth had gotten him into trouble—again. 

Everyone's gaze shifted to John. He calmly finished chewing his bread, sighed, and muttered to himself about how even a simple meal couldn't be peaceful. 

Taking a sip of water, he stood up and began walking toward Ron. 

This action made the Gryffindors instantly go on high alert, like they were facing a dangerous threat. 

___________

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