Hogwarts’ John Wick 265: Constant Vigilance—Oh Sh!t!!

265: Constant Vigilance—Oh Sh!t!!

A gruff, deep voice.

Harry knew that voice too well—it had taught him for an entire school year.

It was Moody.

Harry instantly thought of the ti Ardolph Edgar had impersonated Moody, making him tense up even more.

"Professor Moody?" he asked uncertainly.

Moody growled, "Professor, eh? Don't know about that. Haven't been properly conscious for long, and when I was, the standard was bloody awful."

Even after so ti had passed, Moody still couldn't help but grumble when talking about the period he'd been under the Imperius Curse.

Harry's nerves finally settled as a second voice chid in.

"No worries, Harry. We're here to get you out."

It was Lupin!

Harry's heart skipped again, but this ti out of joy.

His favorite professor—Professor Lupin—who was also his father's friend.

That voice always brought him a strong sense of security.

Lupin looked much more worn than Harry rembered from school. He didn't have the sa energy about him—more like soone who'd been running errands non-stop for days without any sleep.

He had deliberately dressed in his best clothes, though they were a bit worn.

Over the past year, Lupin had been busy with various matters.

But when he looked at Harry, a brilliant smile blood across his face.

Harry, full of questions, couldn't help but smile back at Lupin.

"He looks exactly like I imagined," said a witch among them, holding her wand high.

She was the youngest of the group—a pale, heart-shaped face, sparkling black eyes, and spiky, vividly violet hair.

"Hello, Harry," she greeted him with a mischievous, lively smile.

"Ah, I see what you ant, Remus," said a bald, dark-skinned wizard standing at the back.

His voice was deep and slow, and he wore a golden hoop on one ear. His gaze at Harry was filled with both scrutiny and nostalgia. "He looks just like Jas."

"Except for the eyes," added another wizard with a head full of silver hair, wheezing slightly as he spoke. "Those are Lily's eyes."

It felt just like a family gathering.

Harry was the kid being brought out and introduced to all the relatives.

Lupin and the others had co to escort Harry, acting as his guards. But Moody, ever suspicious, wasn't at ease. He wanted Harry to prove his identity.

Having once been impersonated, Moody now had twelve layers of caution on this front.

Understandable.

Lupin asked Harry, "Harry, what does your Patronus look like?"

"A stag," Harry answered nervously.

Lupin could confirm—this was indeed Harry.

Being stared at by so many people, Harry naturally felt a bit tense.

He stuck his wand into the back pocket of his jeans—only to be yelled at by Moody.

"Don't stick your wand back there! Do you know, even wizards more powerful than you have burned their own backsides doing that!"

That neurotic tone was very Moody. Harry thought the version of Moody played by Edgar had been far too aristocratic(?)... restrained.

At least Barty Crouch Jr. never warned about wands exploding in your pants.

The violet-haired woman seed very interested in the idea of a wizard burning his butt with a wand and asked, "Do you know who burned their backside?"

"None of your business! Just don't put your wand in your back pocket!"

At least to the woman, that sounded like a guilty dodge. She rolled her eyes so hard they nearly touched the ceiling.

As they were getting ready to leave, Harry learned that it was the violet-haired woman who had sent the fake winning letter to the Dursleys through the Muggle post.

He secretly admired her cleverness.

He already couldn't wait to get out of there.

But they still had to wait a bit longer—Lupin told him they needed to wait for the signal.

While they waited, Harry got to know the wizards who had co to fetch him.

Moody didn't need much introduction—after all, he had taught Harry for a year.

Well, most of that ti it had actually been Ardolph Edgar impersonating him.

The woman with violet-colored hair was nad Nymphadora Tonks.

But she didn't like people using her full na—she preferred to be called just Tonks.

The dark-skinned man was Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Then there were others: Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Emline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, and Hestia Jones.

They had all volunteered to co get Harry.

Harry wanted to ask a few things—like questions about Voldemort.

But the mont he even started to say the na, they all shushed him at once.

Moody told him to shut his mouth.

Harry was confused.

"Nothing can be said here, it's too dangerous," Moody explained, his magical eye still spinning warily.

Suddenly, his eye swiveled toward the outside, and Moody asked, "Who's that?"

Harry followed the direction of his pointing finger and saw a house much bigger than the Dursleys'.

He paused for a mont and said, "That's John's house."

"John? John Wick?"

Moody's expression turned serious, and Lupin's face grew complicated.

Harry found their expressions strange. Had sothing happened?

But Moody didn't say anything more—he just glanced silently and turned his head away.

Lupin let out a sigh. Harry felt frustrated. This again—he knew absolutely nothing.

But Lupin did tell him they would be flying back on broomsticks, which was at least good news. At least now he knew how they were getting back, right?

Harry went upstairs to pack. Tonks, noticing his sour mood, decided to try cheering him up by changing her hair color—being a tamorphmagus and all.

Unfortunately, now that Harry knew Tonks was a tamorphmagus, it reminded him of Ardolph Edgar again, and that just made him feel worse.

After packing up, Harry ca back downstairs with Tonks.

At that mont, a red spark lit up the sky outside.

It was the signal.

Moody gave Harry a sharp knock on the head—like cracking an egg. A cold sensation seeped from the wand into Harry's body.

The Disillusionnt Charm.

It was Harry's first ti experiencing it, and it felt incredibly strange. He was reminded of John's invisibility trick.

"Invisibility cloaks get blown around on a broomstick, don't cling properly. The Disillusionnt Charm camouflages you better," Moody explained, prompting Tonks to loudly praise him.

The second signal ca—green sparks.

Moody unlocked the back door, and they headed out one by one.

Harry was thrilled—he finally wasn't being left behind.

"Now! Let's go! Rember! Constant vigi—What the—!!"

That excitent didn't last long.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Although Moody had carefully assigned tasks with great vigilance, he hadn't expected that there would be magic on the roof of John Wick's house.

The first three who took off ended up dropping like dumplings.

From the attic, a dog's head popped out and barked wildly at them.

It was Tom.

...

August 12th was the day of Harry's hearing, to be held before the Wizengamot.

John was making plans to weaken Dumbledore's power on that very day.

"Even if you're Dumbledore, you still have to pay a price."

His eyes narrowed dangerously—this was the perfect opportunity to strike at Dumbledore's position as headmaster.

Even if he couldn't bring him down directly, he had to force Dumbledore into major concessions.

In John's mind, Dumbledore's figure flashed, along with the image of the Fiendfyre blazing.

His breathing grew rapid, and before he realized it, everything around him tightened and began to float in the air.

"I didn't expect that I was so impatient."

Placing a hand over his chest, John muttered to himself.

___________

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