Monday.
In the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Oz tested the students on the application of the Impedint Jinx.
"It seems you've all managed the basics of the Disarming Charm, Stunning Spell, and Impedint Jinx," Oz said.
After an entire sester of hard work, she had finally managed to correct the utterly abysmal fundantals of the fifth-year students.
"Though these are just three simple spells, if applied correctly, they can allow you to effectively counter any threat," Oz told the class. "In all my years as an Auror, these were the spells I used most often."
"In fact, I can tell you that in many situations, the effectiveness of these three spells far exceeds that of more complex magic."
Oz taught more from the Auror training perspective. For Aurors, power ca second—casting speed was what really mattered.
When facing an enemy, whether you used a Disarming Charm or a more advanced curse, the goal was the sa: incapacitate the opponent.
Aurors preferred the simpler Disarming Charm—quicker and more efficient for ending a duel.
This term, Oz had outlined a new learning plan for the fifth-years: they were to master the practical use of these spells.
The students listened attentively, especially those aspiring to beco Aurors themselves.
Umbridge had almost entirely stopped showing up to this classroom, making it one of the rare safe havens left for the students.
Class ended, and the students chatted animatedly about their new assignnts.
...
Great Hall.
Malfoy muttered, "Did you see that Potter? That arrogant look on his face."
He'd already noticed Harry looking distracted during class, but he had clearly misunderstood the reason. He said bitterly, "He probably thinks that as the Chosen One, he can master anything instantly."
The real issue was that Malfoy had been outperford by Harry in Defense Against the Dark Arts. That guy seed born to be an Auror, ranking just behind John in that subject.
John raised an eyebrow and replied noncommittally, "If you spent as much ti studying as you do watching him, you could do it too."
Spacing out in class and then having the nerve to complain?
Malfoy was montarily speechless—right then, a blur of motion sped past them.
Pansy's escape attempt had failed.
Even though she'd hidden in the common room all day yesterday, she still couldn't avoid running into Daphne in class the next day.
Faced with Daphne's burst of speed, Pansy could only wear a miserable expression as she repeated "I'm sorry" who knows how many tis.
"You almost made …" Just rembering her own bold move of asking 'soone' out made Daphne's cheeks flush bright red.
Pansy, looking like she was about to cry, said, "But I apologized to you afterward!"
"That was your idea of an apology?!" Daphne had received Pansy's letter.
If circumstances had allowed, she would've stord straight to Pansy's house.
Pansy mumbled, "I think this can still be salvaged…"
"How exactly are we supposed to salvage this? Tell , with what?!" Daphne gave Pansy a fierce glare.
Pansy quickly said, "Look, John didn't reject going out with you. That proves he likes you too!"
"Don't talk nonsense," Daphne frowned. "He goes out with whoever invites him."
"Uh..." Pansy thought about it carefully, and despairingly realized—that might actually be true.
Daphne clenched her fists and made Pansy sign a series of unequal treaties.
Humiliated, Pansy turned around and took her frustration out on Goyle and Crabbe.
The two big guys were completely baffled.
Goyle and Crabbe: What did we even do to deserve this?ಥ_ಥ
The days leading up to the award ceremony were peaceful. John would occasionally look at a particular Constellation badge, and more often, he stayed in the Constellation Society.
...
January 8th.
That day was a Monday. When John walked into Snape's office, Snape's expression imdiately darkened.
John noticed that there was sothing new in the office—an object and a person.
A Pensieve, and Harry.
The two of them looked so sneaky it was like they were doing sothing scandalous.
Thinking about how Harry had told others he was coming to Snape for tutoring—and then looking at Harry's utterly lifeless face…
"Hope I'm not interrupting your… tutoring," John said with a snort.
Harry felt like he'd just been caught in the act—an overwhelming sense of sha washed over him.
"Wick," Snape subtly blocked John's line of sight and said with his usual sarcastic tone, "you'd best tell why you're here, so I can overlook your little offense of entering without knocking."
He stared into John's eyes, enunciating clearly, "There shouldn't be any more stray mutts wandering into Hogwarts uninvited."
"I did knock. It's just that the two of you didn't seem to hear it."
John retracted his gaze. His eyebrow raised slightly—trying to read my mind?
Activating Occluncy, John responded with a humble smile, "My reason for coming is perfectly legitimate."
"Oh?" Snape couldn't get a single read on him, which confird just how strong John's Occluncy really was.
Dumbledore had been right—John Wick already possessed strength that surpassed not just the school, but most wizards.
"I'd like to request a day off tomorrow," John said politely.
A day off?
Snape pondered for a mont. Harry thought John was being wildly unrealistic.
No illness, no reason offered at all.
"Granted."
What stunned everyone was that Snape actually agreed.
Harry felt like Snape had been swapped out with soone else entirely.
John chuckled lightly. "Thank you very much, Professor Snape."
Harry couldn't believe it—John had clearly spoken rudely to Snape back at Grimmauld Place.
He could swear, if he had spoken to Snape like that, he'd be in detention until the end of term.
John turned to leave. When he reached the door, he suddenly paused and spoke to Harry. "Oh, Harry."
Harry looked up instinctively and t John's eyes.
Snape imdiately stepped in front of him, blocking the view. John looked slightly surprised but said calmly, "I hope your grades improve."
With that, he left with a neutral expression.
He even closed the door on his way out.
Snape waited until the door shut, then turned back to Harry and said coldly, "We can begin the next exercise."
He doesn't want and John facing off.
A strange thought surfaced in Harry's mind, and Snape said directly, "Yes, your diocrity would only further highlight John Wick's talent. Try not to embarrass yourself."
Damn it. He forgot Snape could read minds.
Harry's expression changed dramatically, but the words had already surfaced in his mind.
Snape sneered—You've badmouthed so many tis before, let's see how you deal with this now.
In that mont, Harry truly considered reconciling with John.
...
January 9th.
John arrived at the Ministry of Magic.
He stepped into a red telephone booth in London, picked up the receiver, and dialed the number.
"62442."
The call went through.
A cold, artificial female voice echoed in the booth.
"Welco to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your na and business."
John said, "John Wick, here to receive an award."
"Thank you," the cold artificial voice replied. "Visitor, please take your badge and attach it to the front of your robe."
A badge slid out of the tal slot usually used for change. John picked it up—engraved with the word Awardee—and pinned it to his clothing.
Once it was in place, the cold voice instructed him to register his wand at the security desk.
Then, the entire telephone booth began to sink slowly into the ground.
The Ministry of Magic was built underground in London, and this wasn't John's first ti here.
After entering the main atrium of the Ministry and registering his wand, John once again made his way to the Wizengamot.
Unlike last ti, the venue where the previous debate had taken place was now filled with people dressed in formal ceremonial robes, all waiting for John's arrival.
"John Wick."This ti, Basba had stepped into the background. A white-bearded elder with a powerful voice conducted the ceremony.
"In recognition of your contributions to the magical world, we hereby present you with the Order of rlin, Second Class."
The ceremony wasn't particularly elaborate. The mont the purple dal symbolizing the Order of rlin (Second Class) was pinned to John's chest, it marked him as the youngest recipient of the Order in magical history.
Photographers captured this historic mont, and reports about Hogwarts' rising star, John Wick, would soon spread far and wide.
Percy was present too, and he felt genuinely happy for John.
He had always believed that—even without the persona of Johnny Silverhand—John Wick was still the brightest star in the world.
...
Slytherin table.
Sothing felt missing today.
Yes, their king was gone.
When John was around, Slytherin always seed more united and cohesive.
Malfoy, bored out of his mind, was suddenly hit on the head by a newspaper dropped from an owl flying overhead.
He casually opened it and took a glance—his eyes suddenly widened.
"Oh My!—L-Look at the newspaper!" he shouted urgently, raising his head.
The entire Great Hall was startled by his outburst.
Ignoring everything else, Malfoy swept aside the items on the table, stepped onto the long table itself, and read aloud from the newspaper for all to hear.
"January 9th, 1996 — The brightest star in magical history rises.
Hogwarts' genius, John Wick, breaks the myth of the incurable Blood Curse and takes a monuntal step toward unraveling the curse. He is awarded…"
"The Order of rlin, Second Class!"
Everyone was stunned by this declaration—Slytherin erupted into chaos.
In that mont, Hogwarts was drowned in the deafening cheers of Slytherin House.
Malfoy held the newspaper high in the air and shouted at the top of his lungs:
"Our king—glory to Slytherin!"
"Glory to Slytherin!"
"Glory to Slytherin!"
"Glory to Slytherin!!!!"
The other three Houses were weirdly silent.
Even Umbridge forgot to intervene, completely stunned by this rule-breaking commotion.
_________
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