C9: Lessons and Magic Upgrades
A few students bolted down the corridor, not caring whether Filch was nearby or not.
Luckily, fate was on their side. Filch had gone off to investigate another corridor, giving them enough time to sprint back to the portrait of the Fat Lady guarding the Gryffindor common room.
The woman in the pink dress peered at them from her oil painting and asked, startled, "Where have you been at this hour?"
"Don't ask, just open up quick!" Ron panted, clutching his side.
Sweating and breathless, the group exchanged nervous glances, haunted by the memory of the massive three-headed dog they'd just escaped.
Harry stepped forward and muttered the password, "Pig snout."
The portrait swung open.
"Wait—John, aren't you in Slytherin?" Harry asked suddenly, turning around just as they were about to go in.
John blinked. In all the chaos, he'd forgotten he wasn't part of their house. Gryffindor wasn't his dormitory.
The Fat Lady looked at him with a raised eyebrow but didn't comment as John stepped back and watched the others disappear behind the closing portrait door.
Shrugging off the curious gaze of the portrait, he turned and headed back down the dim corridor.
On his way back to the dungeons, he ran into none other than Draco Malfoy.
It wasn't hard to guess what Malfoy was doing likely checking to see whether his trap for Harry had worked. But he clearly hadn't expected to run into John.
Draco turned on his heel, trying to retreat but John closed the distance in a few quick strides. Being nearly a head taller, John shoved him against the cold stone wall with a thud.
"So, little Malfoy," John muttered, voice low and dangerous, "you wouldn't want Professor Snape to hear you were wandering around after curfew, would you?"
Draco's eyes darted about. The corridor was empty, Crabbe and Goyle were likely snoring in their beds.
"You—you were out too!" Malfoy stammered, trying to bluff through his fear.
John smirked. "I'm not one to hold grudges. I settle them right away. What do you think I should do?"
Before Draco could answer, John clapped a hand over his mouth. With his free hand, he flicked his wrist and a wand slipped neatly into his grip from a sleeve sewn with hidden compartments by Mrs. Wick, the Hogwarts seamstress who'd taken a liking to him.
"You know," John whispered, waving the wand dangerously close to Draco's eye, "the wood of a wand is quite solid. Even without spells, it can do damage."
The tapered tip hovered, threatening but never striking. Draco's legs trembled.
"Shh—quiet now. We don't want Filch hearing us. You do know he keeps chains and manacles in his office, right?"
Malfoy's pale face turned ghostly, sweat beading on his brow.
Then John punched him—clean in the gut.
Draco folded like a wet parchment, groaning and sinking to his knees.
"Let this be a lesson," John said, standing over him. "Try something like this again, and I won't be so gentle."
He turned to go but after a few steps, he paused.
Sighing, he looked back at Draco, who still clutched his stomach and groaned softly.
If Filch finds him now, Slytherin'll lose even more House Points.
Reluctantly, John helped him up and muttered, "We're from the same House. There's no need to make this personal."
Draco didn't answer. His lips quivered, and his face was still ashen.
John continued calmly, "Look, we don't have to be friends. But we don't have to be enemies either. I won't go after you unless you come at me first. Simple."
Draco said nothing. But the trembling in his eyes suggested he'd understood.
…
"Pure-blood."
The stone wall behind a suit of armor slid open as John muttered the Slytherin common room password.
He half-dragged Malfoy into the dim, damp lounge and placed him on a green leather sofa near the fireplace.
Whoever had designed the Slytherin dorms clearly had a taste for gloom low ceilings, ancient bones, and flickering green lamps gave the room a dungeon-like feel. Cold and dark, with the occasional eerie flicker of something massive moving beyond the windows of the Black Lake.
John glanced at the glass as the giant squid floated lazily by.
"Just remember what I said," he told Malfoy, who was curled up and still wheezing. "We may not like each other, but we shouldn't destroy each other."
Without waiting for a reply, John headed to his dormitory.
After a long day of classes, dueling drills, and that unplanned confrontation with Fluffy the three-headed dog, he checked his system.
His magic value had finally hit 65 just enough to level up.
After a quick wash, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying the night's events.
That beast—Fluffy. Hagrid must've been involved.
He remembered the trapdoor beneath the dog. There had to be something hidden underneath.
Hagrid had mentioned buying something "very important" from Gringotts with Harry.
A vault was broken into right after. Coincidence? I don't think so.
Also… the dog had a weakness. Music. Yes—Hagrid had said something about Fluffy relaxing to music.
Satisfied with his deduction, John finally drifted into sleep.
…
The next morning, Draco passed by him in the Great Hall as if nothing had happened. But he didn't sneer. Didn't smirk. Didn't provoke.
Apparently, John's warning had stuck.
Meanwhile, Harry and Ron were whispering intensely over breakfast.
"They're hiding something in that trapdoor," Ron said.
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "The vault Hagrid took me to at Gringotts—it was empty the next day. That's what it was. It's being guarded."
They had no idea John was listening and nodding internally.
Hermione, however, wasn't speaking to either of them.
She plopped down next to John with a huff.
"I cannot believe them. We were almost eaten alive, and those two think it was a jolly adventure!"
"Oh my God," she whispered furiously, "how can anyone be so idiotic? And to think I share classes with them!"
John just listened, as he always did. You didn't interrupt Hermione when she was in full rant.
Neville soon joined them. He stuck close to John now—ever since last night, he considered John a reliable protector.
And so, a Slytherin sat with two Gryffindors. An unusual sight.
After breakfast, John stuck to his usual schedule.
Morning: A jog around the Black Lake.
Noon: Push-ups and frog jumps.
Evening: Sit-ups and dueling drills in the trophy room.
Late: Quiet reading and exercise before bed.
Every now and then, he took his two companions, Tom and Basil on walks near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. But after Hagrid caught him once and warned him sternly, he kept his distance.
Still, that's how he got to know Fluffy. Or, as Hagrid affectionately called him, "Yeh little Yaya."
Yaya was surprisingly docile when offered bits of enchanted dog food from Tom's pouch.
…
[Ding! Magic Level Up – Current Magic Level: 2]
Jogging along the lake, John wiped sweat from his brow, smiling.
"Finally."
He now had enough magical energy to start training properly.
So far, he only knew Alohomora, the unlocking charm. While useful, it wasn't exactly thrilling.
He needed more spells.
With Hermione's textbooks and a little observational learning, he picked up Wingardium Leviosa even before the official Charms class.
Standing by a tree, he raised his wand over a fallen leaf.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
He felt the tug of magic, and the leaf floated gently upward.
[Magic: Level 2 (10/500)]
[Spells: Alohomora (Lv. 3), Wingardium Leviosa (Lv. 1)]
[Skills: Short Weapon Mastery (Lv. 7), Polearm Mastery (Lv. 6), Heavy Weapon Mastery (Lv. 3), Firearms Mastery (Lv. 1)]
[Blessings: Physical Fitness, Speed Attack, Accuracy, Academic Aptitude, Pilot, Endurance Running]
The levitation spell was still weak—only able to lift light objects—but it filled John with satisfaction.
He had his eye on the Restricted Section of the library next.
Getting caught might earn him detention… but that might also grant him access to clean it.
And while others feared the shadows of that forbidden place, John only smiled.
Because somewhere beyond those shelves, real power was waiting.