The Golden Trio was feeling a little excited—this kind of secret gathering always stirred a bit of adventurous spirit in young people.
Harry caught sight of a man in a white mask hurrying away. He looked familiar.
He turned to look in the direction the man had come from—and his expression froze.
"What the…" Hermione followed his gaze and also fell silent.
"Hm? Where are you looking—" Ron was the last to notice the odd expressions on their faces. He turned around and shouted, "Oh shit—John!"
John snapped his fingers, and the crystal wine glass vanished.
There was still a fifth of wine left in the silver bottle. He glanced at the man sipping firewhisky by the bar, walked over, and set the bottle down.
"All yours."
Daphne seemed a bit tipsy—though it was also entirely possible she was just using it as an excuse to hold John's hand.
Holding Daphne's hand, John nodded toward the trio. "Hermione, what a coincidence."
"John, you…" Hermione was dumbfounded.
"Oh, just met up with a friend. Didn't expect to find you guys hosting a tutoring session here."
John chuckled lightly, clearly not taking the whole Defense Against the Dark Arts training group seriously.
This irked Harry, who snapped irritably, "You heard everything?"
"If you mean the organization created to fight against Voldemort," John raised an eyebrow, "then yes, I heard it—very clearly."
"You—" Harry was momentarily at a loss.
He could tell that John didn't care about this training group at all. In fact, it felt more like John thought they were just kids playing pretend.
Ron demanded, "You're not going to tell Umbridge, are you?"
"Hmm?" John looked at Ron and asked calmly, "Weasley, do I look that bored?"
He said goodbye to Hermione, then took Daphne's hand and left the Hog's Head.
Before leaving, Daphne shot Ron a deadly glare.
After they were gone, Ron huffed angrily, "He's definitely going to tell."
"John would never do that," Hermione glared at Ron. "He's never been a snitch."
"Well, who knows?" Ron grumbled, clearly annoyed by John's superior attitude.
...
John needed to check the alcohol content of that wine—Daphne seemed a bit drunk.
Otherwise...
Why would she keep clinging to his hand?
He remembered that this particular wine was supposed to have a very low alcohol content. Did he grab the wrong bottle?
Back from Hogsmeade to the castle, John made a stop at the Room of Requirement.
He had promised Daphne a quill, and naturally, he wouldn't go back on his word.
Crafting a quill wasn't any less complex than making a wand. He took one of Basil's feathers—earning Basil a whole pouch of dried fish as extortion in the process.
Tom tried to offer up some of her dog fur, but clearly, you couldn't make a quill out of dog hair.
John had been visiting the Gryffindor Secret Chamber much less frequently lately.
This was his first time entering it this term.
Setting the storybook aside, John began crafting the quill.
"Wonder how Neville and the others are doing."
After finishing the quill, he placed it into a box, along with a special kind of secret ink he'd made.
Words written in this ink could only be read by the writer or someone designated by them.
He sealed both the quill and the ink inside the box and went to deliver it to Daphne.
At the school bulletin board, a large notice had just been posted.
John glanced at it—Umbridge was starting trouble.
He knew she wouldn't be satisfied just making things difficult for the professors.
—By Order of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor:
All student organizations, societies, teams, or clubs are hereby disbanded.
For the purposes of this decree, an organization, society, team, or club is defined as any regular gathering of three or more students.
Permission to reform may be requested from the High Inquisitor.
No student organization, society, team, or club may exist without the High Inquisitor's approval.—
After giving it a glance, John had to admit—Umbridge really had a talent for digging her own grave.
This was clearly an attempt to seize complete control. But what she didn't seem to realize was that the Hogwarts staff generally didn't care much about student clubs.
Even Quidditch rarely got any interference.
And the punishment listed? Immediate expulsion upon discovery.
With Dumbledore out of the picture, Umbridge had clearly gotten too full of herself.
"Come to think of it, the Constellation Society technically counts too," John mused, unconcerned.
Not like anyone knew where the Constellation Society even met. And besides, Umbridge wouldn't dare expel them.
Copies of this notice had also been posted inside the common rooms of all four Houses.
In Slytherin, people glanced at the notice—and for the most part, ignored it entirely.
John delivered the quill to Daphne.
Sitting next to Daphne was Astoria, who was puzzling over how such a low-alcohol drink could make her sister's face turn that red.
When she saw John giving Daphne a gift, Astoria's eyes widened to the size of Galleons.
She decided to shelve the alcohol mystery for now—studying why an iron tree would bloom seemed more urgent.
"That notice?" Daphne accepted the quill, her heart fluttering like a startled deer.
John replied casually, "Just ignore it."
When Malfoy saw that notice, he tore it down on the spot.
Nobody found it surprising anymore.
Pansy had finally gotten over the trauma from that train carriage incident. She looked at the gift Daphne received with envy in her eyes.
She glanced around at the boys in Slytherin and made up her mind—she needed to find a guy who could make her a gift with his own hands too.
But all she saw were the clueless faces of Crabbe and Goyle, which irritated her so much she went over and kicked them both...
Crabbe and Goyle: Life is unfair..(┬┬﹏┬┬)
...
Meanwhile, in the Great Hall—
The newly formed training group, ready to kick things into high gear, was now in a mild panic.
The timing of this decree was just too suspicious.
Ron huffed angrily and said, "See? I told you so."
"What are you talking about!" Hermione was furious. "It wasn't John!"
"If not him, then who?" Ron said sarcastically. "That day it was just him and Greengrass. Who else could it be?"
Hermione had enchanted the parchment—anyone who signed it and then snitched would trigger a reaction.
But not a single person in the Great Hall had been affected.
When John arrived at the Great Hall, he immediately noticed the angry glares being thrown his way.
He thought for a moment and instantly understood what was going on.
"What are you looking at, Weasley!" Malfoy shouted bluntly.
Ron's face flickered with panic for a second, but he quickly remembered he was a prefect.
Malfoy didn't hesitate to charge over with his crew and launched a verbal onslaught at Ron.
Ron was so furious he wanted to fight, but he didn't need to think twice—when it came to fists, he was no match for the tall and well-shaped Malfoy.
…
Umbridge's decree had caused quite a stir throughout the school.
But it had little effect on Slytherin.
Umbridge even included Quidditch teams under the category of clubs.
She seemed to be reveling in this feeling of total control. Montague came to find John, asking about the Quidditch team situation.
"Just continue training as usual," John waved his hand casually.
Montague relaxed at that, and Malfoy, lounging on the sofa with his legs crossed, asked, "So we don't need to worry about that so-called decree?"
"Unless she wants to expel the entire Slytherin house," John chuckled. "But she wouldn't dare."
Malfoy grinned and said, "I'd love to see the sour faces on Potter and his lot."
Slytherin respected strength.
And in their eyes, Umbridge wasn't a strong person.
If Umbridge thought she could make Slytherin bow with this kind of tactic, she had clearly miscalculated.
However, John still showed up at Umbridge's office, where her saggy face wore a contrived, sugary smile.
"Mr. Wick, it's clear you've been involved in some activities in violation of Educational Decree No. 24,"
Umbridge said in an overly sweet, affected voice, deliberately softening her tone. "I must remind you what sort of punishment violating the decree entails."
John calmly stared at Umbridge.
Hoisting a rock only to drop it on your own foot?
It was obvious Umbridge had caught wind of something and was now trying to make an example out of the biggest figure among the students.
She'd already dealt with the unruly troublemaker Harry Potter—now it was John Wick's turn.
"I know you Muggle-born students are always trying to do something outrageous and attention-seeking," Umbridge said with feigned concern.
"I used to be in Slytherin House myself," she added in a girlish high-pitched tone, as if sharing a little secret, her fake smile plastered on her face. "I can give you a chance."
In her heart, Umbridge was sneering—Slytherin students obeying a Mudblood?
Don't those pure-bloods feel any shame?
Her short, stubby fingers pushed a thin quill toward John, letting out a giggle. "I want you to write: I must not tell lies."
With a note of twisted cheer in her voice, she added meaningfully, "Until the words are etched into your heart."
She wanted to use this boy as an example, to bring Slytherin under her control.
Just the thought of controlling Slytherin made Umbridge feel giddy with excitement.
Though she herself was a half-blood, she loathed her Muggle heritage and always claimed to be pure-blood.
She even deeply despised her own Muggle-born mother for giving her such blood.
Disgusting Muggle-born students should know their place at the bottom!
John glanced at her. As her smile grew wider, he casually picked up the quill—
—And let out a low chuckle.
__________
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