Hogwarts' John Wick

The spell came too fast, so fast that people couldn't react.

Harry heard the sound of a strong gust behind him and was just about to draw his wand when he saw John already intercepting.

Grabbing Malfoy by his middle-parted hair and flinging him aside, John and Malfoy swapped positions in an instant.

At the marble staircase, a figure intercepted a spell. John waved his wand twice in quick succession, transforming the railings on both sides into two large dogs that lunged forward.

The opponent had ample combat experience and dodged the approaching dogs effortlessly. A curse shot out, colliding mid-air with John's blasting curse.

The fight came to an abrupt halt as both sides stopped simultaneously. It was only then that the onlookers realized what had happened.

John stood with a cold and imposing demeanor, his gaze radiating an icy sharpness.

"Professor Moody!" an astonished voice exclaimed.

It was Professor McGonagall.

She hadn't expected anything like this to happen on the very first day of term.

At the marble staircase, Moody's small normal eye fixed on John while his magical eye spun erratically.

Professor McGonagall hurried over, her face pale. Pressing down her fury, she demanded of the two who were still staring each other down, "Will someone tell me what is going on here?!"

Moody seemed to realize what had happened only a moment later. Fuming, he turned to Harry and barked, "Did he hurt you?!"

"What?" Harry was startled but quickly realized Moody was referring to Malfoy. He answered honestly, "No, he didn't."

Moody nodded and began descending the stairs with his characteristic gait, his wooden leg carved into a claw-like shape thudding against the steps.

"I despise cowards who attack others from behind!" he growled loudly as he loomed over Malfoy. "Such actions are dirty, despicable, and the hallmark of a spineless coward!"

Malfoy's face darkened, his fury barely contained as he retorted, "Then why don't you see if Harry Potter dares to duel me head-on?"

Needing a sneak attack to defeat Potter? Malfoy was better than that.

"You little brat..." Moody leaned in so close to Malfoy that their faces were nearly touching.

John's brows furrowed. In a cold voice, he interjected, "So you're saying you didn't just ambush someone, Professor?"

Moody turned sharply toward John at those words, his magical eye scanning John's wand and then locking onto his icy, indifferent expression.

Squinting slightly, John continued, "Or do you think you're justified simply because you believe yourself on the righteous side?"

John didn't like this Moody. Malfoy might have used his fists, but Moody had used magic.

The two of them stared each other down, neither backing down in the slightest.

The atmosphere grew tense as Professor McGonagall quickly pieced together what had happened from Hermione's account.

This situation, it seemed, had faults on both sides.

Professor Moody's use of a spell on a student had clearly angered Professor McGonagall further. "Moody! We never use Transfiguration as a form of punishment! Dumbledore must have told you that!" 

She was beginning to feel exasperated—this Moody was far too aggressive. 

"He might have mentioned it," Moody said nonchalantly, scratching his chin. "But I thought a good scare was in order." 

"We have detentions for that, Moody!" Professor McGonagall said sharply. "Or you could report the matter to the head of the student's house." 

"I'll do just that," Moody said with distaste, turning to glare at Malfoy. 

Malfoy glared back defiantly as Moody reached out, intending to drag him away. 

A hand suddenly intervened, pressing down on Moody's wrist. John's cold gaze locked onto Moody's face. "You don't want to do that," John said icily. 

Professor McGonagall was taken aback by the turn of events. "Mr. Wick?" 

"And if I do want to?" Moody growled. "Your head of house is Snape, isn't it? An old... friend of mine. I'd be delighted to have a chat with good ol' Snape!" 

"I'm telling you," John repeated, his grip tightening. "You don't want to do that." 

Ugh.. A flicker of annoyance crossed Moody's face as he tried to pull Malfoy away forcefully. 

By now, a quiet crowd of Slytherin students had gathered around them, their faces emotionless but their eyes fixed coldly on Moody.

"Let go, boy!" Moody growled. 

John didn't reply. Instead, the Slytherin students took a step forward, their movement shrinking the already small circle around them. 

Professor McGonagall looked around nervously, thinking that perhaps only Dumbledore could handle this situation. 

"I don't abandon my friends, especially not when they're being forced to bow their heads and admit fault."

John said, his grip firm enough to crush stone. His eyes locked onto Moody's, his tone deliberate and icy.

"Let's not make this uglier than it already is, Professor." 

Behind Moody, Heinrich had appeared at some point, followed by more Slytherins joining the gathering. 

Daphne stood beside John, her face a mask of pride and disdain as she cast a contemptuous look at Moody. 

The atmosphere was tense, heavy with unspoken pressure. Even Moody, battle-hardened as he was, seemed momentarily caught off guard by the sheer weight of it. 

John turned his gaze to Professor McGonagall, softening his tone. "Professor McGonagall, it seems our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor might not be entirely familiar with the school rules. Perhaps Filch would be more than happy to provide him with a copy of the handbook." 

He released his grip, and Moody's hand dropped to his side. 

When John lifted his head again, his usual calm expression had returned. "Go back," he said quietly. 

With that, the Slytherin students parted, creating a clear path.

John took the lead, walking out of the gathering. Daphne jogged a few steps to catch up and positioned herself beside him. On his left, Heinrich had already fallen into step. 

Malfoy let out a cold snort and turned back to Harry. "Potter, you should face me head-on instead of hiding behind your new babysitter." 

Harry flushed with embarrassment, his face turning red. Ron, who had initially been furious, quieted down as the Slytherins encircled them. 

Hermione, meanwhile, watched John with astonishment, surprised by the sheer authority he now commanded. 

It was just as the Slytherins began to disperse that Snape arrived. 

At the forefront of the group, John and his companions bore the Constellation Society insignia on their chests, the badges gleaming with starlight. 

Snape's expression shifted subtly, a complicated mix of emotions crossing his face as he murmured under his breath, "John Wick." 

… 

Hogwarts was never a place where secrets could be kept for long, especially when, for the first time in its history, a student had openly clashed with a professor. 

Few bothered to analyze the cause of the incident anymore.

In the eyes of the other three houses, all they knew was that Slytherin, once scattered like grains of sand, had suddenly fused into a unified, radiant emerald glass. Under the light, it dazzled with an undeniable brilliance. 

The matter soon reached Dumbledore's ears. Even he hadn't anticipated such an event. 

And yet, it seemed Moody had been at fault. 

The old professor's use of transfiguration as punishment had angered McGonagall enough that she had voiced her complaints to Dumbledore, decrying Moody's excessive methods. 

"John Wick.. He's grown to such an extent already?" 

Dumbledore's expression turned complex as he learned of the three moves exchanged between John and Moody. 

There was no doubt about Moody's strength—he was a legendary Auror, responsible for putting half the prisoners in Azkaban. 

In fact, Dumbledore had once considered Moody as one of the few capable of succeeding him in opposing Voldemort, should anything happen to himself. 

For someone as experienced as Moody to engage in a skirmish with John, only for neither to come out on top… 

"What do you think, Severus?" Dumbledore turned to Snape, who was seated in the headmaster's office. 

"I've told you before," Snape replied evenly, his expression unreadable. "Slytherin is already in the palm of his hand. You've seen it yourself." 

Yes, he had seen it. 

Besides the heads of houses, who else could command such influence? 

Those Slytherins had even encircled a professor for John's sake—something utterly unprecedented. 

Even during Voldemort's school days, his influence had never gone so far. 

Students naturally held a reverence for their teachers. Yet for John, those Slytherins had cast aside that innate respect without hesitation. 

Dumbledore could no longer discern the path ahead for John. All he could do was ensure this student did not venture down an irredeemable road. 

For the first time, Dumbledore found his thoughts wavering about the role of the chosen savior. 

… 

The King of Slytherin—impressive, isn't he? 

The price for it came the next day during Potions class, as John became the target of relentless questioning by Snape. 

But!

In response, John racked up points like crazy. 

No kidding—if Snape asked how to brew the Elixir of Life, John could probably tell him, no problem. 

Snape: So infuriating, but I still have to award points if he answers correctly. 

Thus, within just two days of the new term, Slytherin's points skyrocketed, prompting the other three houses to loudly accuse them of cheating. 

In response, Slytherins scoffed. After all, cheating could never compare to the greatness of having John Wick. 

And so, time marched on to the third day of term. 

The first class was Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

Coincidentally—or perhaps inevitably—Gryffindor and Slytherin were once again paired for this class, as they seemed to be nearly every year. 

This year was no exception. 

Professor Moody's lessons had gained wide acclaim among the sixth years, so the students were particularly excited. 

As the sound of his clunking footsteps echoed down the hallway, Harry and Ron craned their necks eagerly. 

That scarred face appeared in the doorway of the classroom. 

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