The two big guys rubbed their hands nervously, wishing they could shove their heads into the ground.
"Tell me," John leaned back in his chair, eyes half-closed, expression dangerous, "Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe—when did this happen?"
"John, I don't know what you're talking about," Crabbe tried to play dumb, waving his hands in denial.
John grabbed Crabbe's left hand and yanked up his sleeve with force, his tone sharp: "Then tell me—what is this!"
The Dark Mark appeared on Crabbe's left forearm.
Crabbe panicked. "Don't—don't reveal it here!"
Goyle was clutching his head in fear, while Pansy shrieked at the two of them, "You actually—you dared to do this?!"
"No, it wasn't me—it was my dad," Crabbe said, his face pale.
John let go of his hand and stared at them coldly.
"Prove it to me," John said.
Crabbe's lips trembled. "What?"
John raised his hand. A small silver knife appeared and floated in front of Crabbe and Goyle.
"Destroy it," John said coolly. "Either keep it and become my enemy, or destroy it—and stay at Hogwarts."
The two big guys were completely bloodless, and even Pansy was frightened.
"John, they…"
"Pansy, let me guess—his mission."
John narrowed his eyes, a mocking smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he said softly,
"Kill Harry Potter, or… John Wick. A sneak attack?"
"No, not that."
John stared at the two trembling figures and chuckled lightly.
"Poison, then?"
"No, no, John, we didn't!" Crabbe was nearly hysterical.
John cut him off. "Prove it. Right here."
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a glance, fear clear in both their eyes.
This was the king of Slytherin, formed of green crystal glass.
His word in Slytherin was law.
Goyle reached out with a trembling hand and picked up the little silver knife. He hovered it over the mark on his left arm, hesitating—then made up his mind.
"Ugh—ahhh!"
The blade pierced his skin. Blood dripped down as he screamed, dragging the knife inch by inch across his arm.
His brain nearly shut down, sweat poured down his face, and he panted heavily.
The Dark Mark was split down the middle by a long, bloody gash.
Seeing this, Crabbe finally made up his mind.
He took the knife from Goyle, let out a scream of his own, and stabbed through the Dark Mark.
Blood flowed down both of their arms, pooling on the floor—strangely, it didn't spill out of the compartment.
Pansy was pale, covering her mouth to stop herself from screaming.
The coldness in John's eyes faded. He reached out a hand and held it over Goyle's wound.
Black threads wove through Goyle's flesh, and the Dark Mark slowly faded away. The wound gradually healed.
Crabbe received the same treatment. The blood on the floor gathered into two blood-red glass-like orbs, each imprisoning a tiny snake inside.
John handed them over—one to each of the boys.
"You've just bought yourselves another life."
Looking at their even paler faces, John chuckled lightly.
"No need to tell your fathers. I'll handle everything. Stay here for Christmas."
Voldemort trying to sneak two student Death Eaters into Hogwarts—what an idiot.
John looked at the two of them, waved his hand, and the compartment door swung open.
Just then, Malfoy came over and saw the two of them clutching something and rushing out in a panic.
He blinked in confusion and asked, "What happened to them?"
John smiled and said, "Maybe they had a stomachache."
"Pansy, you're here—don't you want to see what's different about me today?"
Malfoy immediately started showing off his prefect badge the moment he saw Pansy.
Pansy exploded, "You pompous brat—you smell like a skunk from '82!"
With that, she stormed out of the compartment in a hurry.
Malfoy was left standing there, utterly baffled. "What's her problem?"
"Maybe she had a stomachache."
Malfoy: "…"
Do you seriously think I'm that easy to fool?
Daphne came over with a grumpy face. But the moment she saw John, her eyes lit up. She shoved Malfoy aside and was about to sit down.
Malfoy was quick to react. He blocked her.
"You're not leaving me alone to go listen to Cedric's speech."
Under Daphne's murderous glare, Malfoy dragged her off—half pulling, half forcing her—to help maintain order on the train.
As prefects, they had to assist with school duties and had a designated prefects' carriage.
Daphne absolutely hated this position.
After they left, someone else entered John's compartment.
It was Daphne's younger sister, Astoria Greengrass.
"John." Astoria greeted him cheerfully, then stared at him for a moment.
"What is it?" John touched his face, thinking maybe some of Crabbe and Goyle's blood had splattered on him earlier.
"It's nothing," Astoria said hesitantly, "Just… you look like something's on your mind."
John paused, then laughed. "You're really sharp. Might make a great Auror one day."
Astoria blushed bright red from the compliment. John turned his head to glance at his reflection in the glass.
Was he really that easy to read?
...
The train rumbled along the tracks, smoke puffing from the chimney into the sky.
Hermione came by on her patrol and lit up when she saw John.
"John." She stepped into the compartment to greet him. Ron followed behind, lifting a hand in greeting—unsuccessfully.
Astoria eyed Hermione warily.
Hermione spoke with a hint of guilt, "Sorry, about last time…"
"Hermione, we're friends," John said with a smile. "Do I seem like someone who'd be that unreasonable to you?"
Well… very reasonable. Reasonable enough to break into the Order of the Phoenix and nearly chop off Sirius Black's hand.
Ron didn't dare say that out loud.
He just leaned against the corridor wall, occasionally peeking in.
Hermione was delighted to hear that. She said, "Yes, we're friends."
John noticed the prefect badge on her chest and chuckled. "I haven't congratulated you yet—on becoming a prefect."
Hermione smiled. "This time, I beat you."
John shrugged, unconcerned. "I suppose."
That remark reignited Hermione's competitive spirit—she was determined to outdo John.
Since she wasn't done with her patrol, they chatted for a bit before she left.
Daphne came rushing back in like a shark smelling blood.
She glanced around warily, as if searching for something.
"Aren't you supposed to be on patrol?" John asked, puzzled. Astoria quickly tucked away a pen, looking a little guilty.
"Ah, it's fine." Maybe realizing her intentions were too obvious, Daphne's earlobes turned red.
After the train ran for a while, the prefects no longer needed to patrol.
John's compartment was now full.
Malfoy returned from his patrol, smugly declaring, "You should've seen those Gryffindors I lectured. Their faces were priceless."
Typical Malfoy, performing at his usual level.
The sky gradually darkened.
This also meant they were getting closer to Hogwarts, and the compartment slowly quieted down.
Upon arrival, at the Hogwarts station, a sharp-chinned woman with meticulously groomed hair had taken Hagrid's place.
But she was clearly not as noticeable as Hagrid. John took one look and immediately guessed that Hagrid was probably off on another mission.
He boarded a carriage and waited for it to depart.
...
Harry also noticed Hagrid's absence. He squinted into the darkness, trying to spot him.
Ginny reminded him that they were blocking the way.
Helpless, Harry had no choice but to leave for now.
Along the way, he was filled with worry. This was the first time Hagrid hadn't been waiting at the Hogsmeade station to greet the new students.
He let his thoughts wander, dragging his heavy steps onto the path outside.
Just as he was wondering if Hagrid had fallen ill, he noticed that the usually empty space in front of the carriages… was no longer empty.
To be precise—there was now a horse.
Well, sort of a horse.
It looked a bit reptilian. There wasn't an ounce of flesh on it; its black hide clung tightly to a bare skeleton.
Every single bone was clearly visible. Its head resembled that of a fire dragon, and its eyes were pale and pupil-less.
Large, bat-like wings—black and leathery—were folded against its sides.
They stood motionless in front of the carriages, one in front of each and every one.
Ron and Hermione came over. Harry had wanted to share his worries with them.
Though he didn't get any answers, being with friends always helped him feel less on edge.
"What are those things?" Harry complained to Ron, pointing at the eerie horses.
But Ron just looked confused. "What things?"
"Those horses." Harry froze for a moment, pointing again at the strange creatures.
Yet Ron still acted like he couldn't see a thing. It unsettled Harry—this wasn't funny at all.
Could it be… he was seeing things?
At that moment, Luna appeared, carrying the cage that held Pigwidgeon, the tiny owl.
They'd met her on the train.
___________
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