90: Dejected Malfoy and Free Dobby

Then it was Harry's turn. Dumbledore glanced at the Sword of Gryffindor that Harry had brought back.

With a smile on his face, he said something along the lines of, "Young man, you truly embody the spirit of Gryffindor."

Finally, it was John's turn. Feeling a bit uneasy, John remembered that he had set a fire earlier.

Snape, standing nearby, looked like he was grinding his teeth. After all, having a student who dared to drink poison directly was undoubtedly a headache for him as a teacher.

"Shrewd, brave, strong, trusting in your companions, and never abandoning any student."

"Mr. John Wick, your willingness to take risks for your friends and your spirit of selflessness is commendable."

John cautiously asked, "Professor, aren't you forgetting wisdom?"

Dumbledore paused. 'You dared to use your body to test poison, and you still want me to praise your wisdom?'

Silently brushing off that request, Dumbledore briefly explained who Tom Riddle was, which elicited more gasps from the parents.

"Did you know, Minerva," Dumbledore mused aloud to Professor McGonagall, "I think these events are worth celebrating with a feast. Could I ask you to inform the kitchen?"

Professor McGonagall, understanding that Dumbledore wanted to speak privately with the students, promptly agreed.

She left, taking the parents and Daphne with her.

Dumbledore then turned to Professor Snape and said, "Severus, we have a cat that needs treatment, don't we?"

Professor Snape's expression darkened, which secretly pleased Harry and Ron.

In the end, Snape had no choice but to reluctantly agree, since Professor Sprout's Mandrakes were ready. Before leaving, he shot a glare at the group.

John felt a headache coming on; he figured he had likely become Snape's number one nuisance.

Facing Dumbledore, the four of them still felt the pressure.

Dumbledore's scrutinizing gaze passed over John's face as he said, "You all have earned a Special Award for Services to the School, especially Harry and Ron. Sometimes, even I must break my own rules."

Dumbledore winked, and the two who had feared they might be expelled for breaking the rules breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let me think… each of you three has earned Gryffindor 200 points. John, you've also earned 200 points for Slytherin."

Hearing this, John couldn't help but exclaim internally at Gryffindor. With 600 points added in one go, Gryffindor quickly surpassed Slytherin.

Even with his 200 points, Slytherin was still trailing behind Gryffindor.

Harry was thrilled. Even though he knew some of these points were somewhat inflated, beating Slytherin was a great honor for Gryffindor.

Hermione bit her lip, hesitating before she asked, "Professor, we didn't really do anything. Isn't this a bit too much?"

Dumbledore smiled and replied, "The fact that you can say that is worth 200 points."

Adding points just like that?

John silently grumbled to himself—what about the referee cheating?

Alright, Hermione and the others did save him, so John had no choice but to accept it.

As if hearing John's inner thoughts, Dumbledore glanced at him.

"But sometimes, your methods can be a bit excessive," Dumbledore remarked.

John quickly plastered on a smile, unsure if Dumbledore was referring to the Fiendfyre incident. But considering Dumbledore's unfathomable power, John figured it was best to play it safe.

Because of John's intervention, Gilderoy Lockhart was still in his office, scribbling away furiously. Naturally, that meant he didn't have much of a role in this anymore.

Harry, who had been struggling with a certain question, blurted out, "Professor Dumbledore, Riddle said in the diary that I'm a lot like him..."

"He said that?" Dumbledore's eyes, beneath his thick silver eyebrows, gazed thoughtfully at Harry. "And what do you think, Harry?"

"I'm nothing like him!" Harry responded, his voice a bit louder and more agitated than usual.

"I'm in Gryffindor, I'm..." 

As he continued speaking, Harry grew silent, recalling the time he had worn the Sorting Hat. He hesitated, "The Sorting Hat told me I would do well in Slytherin. For a while, everyone thought I was the Heir of Slytherin… because I can speak Parseltongue."

He hoped Dumbledore could offer him an explanation. That moment of insecurity had led to him being susceptible to Riddle's influence later on.

"Harry, you can speak Parseltongue," Dumbledore said calmly. "Because Voldemort can speak Parseltongue. He is the last descendant of Slytherin. If I'm not mistaken, on the night he gave you that scar, he transferred some of his powers to you."

"He didn't do it intentionally; I'm quite sure of that."

Harry was stunned by this revelation. Then, feeling deflated, he said, "So I should have been in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat probably saw some Slytherin qualities in me."

"It placed you in Gryffindor," Dumbledore continued, unhurried. "Harry, you happen to possess many of the traits that Salazar Slytherin valued in his students."

"Some of his rare talents—Parseltongue, resourcefulness, strong will... and a certain disregard for rules."

As Dumbledore mentioned Slytherin, John noticed that everyone's eyes were suddenly on him.

Harry recalled how John had ambushed Riddle: "Resourcefulness?"

Ron remembered how John couldn't resist petting Professor McGonagall's tabby cat in their first year: "Strong-willed??"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, almost smiling: "Disregard for rules."

"Hey, that's enough!" John thought to himself. What part of him didn't fit?

So what if I'm in Slytherin?

Is it so wrong for a Slytherin to wield a wand in one hand and a sword in the other? Didn't they notice that Merlin also swung a sword?

"If you keep looking at me like that, I'll sue you for slander!" 

Dumbledore's expression was also quite strange. If Harry hadn't come back with the Sword of Gryffindor, he might have thought John was the true Gryffindor. After all, it takes a certain bravery to drink poison straight up.

To help Harry hold onto his Gryffindor identity, Dumbledore even pulled out the Sword of Gryffindor for a bit of a showcase. 

"Only a true Gryffindor can summon it, Harry."

Dumbledore's intention was to strengthen Harry's belief, but this only made Harry's expression turn awkward. He hesitated and said, "Professor, maybe the sword chose John."

"?"

Dumbledore was stunned. He hadn't been sure who had summoned the Sword of Gryffindor, and by the time he found out, the sword had already disappeared. Seeing Harry holding it, he assumed it was Harry who had summoned it.

Harry explained, "The sword fell from the air, landing right between John and me."

"..."

Dumbledore fell into deep thought. How was he supposed to interpret that?

"It doesn't matter. Just think of yourself as a true Gryffindor, Harry," John comforted him.

But somehow, the words didn't quite sound like comfort. Dumbledore had no other solution, especially since even the Sword of Gryffindor hadn't made it clear.

"John... keep protecting the school," Dumbledore wanted to say a few more words to John. But recalling all that John had done, he blinked, hoping John wouldn't burn the school down while trying to protect it.

John gave an awkward smile—it really wasn't intentional.

After exchanging a few words, the group was ready to leave. Just as they were about to open the door, it was flung open with such force that it nearly hit John's nose. John reached out and pushed the door back without any hesitation.

"Dumbledore—ouch!"

Lucius Malfoy clutched his now-red nose. He looked behind the door and locked eyes with John, who raised an eyebrow at him, full of defiance.

This only added fuel to Lucius's already simmering anger, and he nearly lost his composure. Under his arm was a bandaged Dobby. Lucius was here to cause trouble for Dumbledore, so he decided to temporarily overlook the Muggle-born standing before him.

Fuming, he stormed up to Dumbledore. 

Not wanting to watch the adults argue, John walked out of the room, glancing back at the trio who seemed glued to the spot. He shook his head in disbelief.

"Typical Gryffindors, always nosy."

After waiting outside for a bit, John noticed a disheveled Lucius exiting the room. Lucius shot John a glare. And John? He wasn't about to let that slide.

Harry came out, still looking like he wanted more drama. John grabbed him and, with a wink, said, "Harry, I think you have the chance to free a soul."

"What?" Harry looked puzzled.

John pointed at Dobby, who was standing behind Lucius. Harry immediately understood.

Caught up in watching the scene with Ron and Hermione, Harry had nearly forgotten about Dobby. He quickly ran back to Dumbledore to borrow the diary. Just as he was about to pull off his sweaty, smelly sock that had been on his feet all day, John stopped him.

"I don't think Dobby would appreciate that."

John pulled out his wand and conjured a fresh sock, handing it to Harry. 

Harry understood and slipped the sock inside the diary, then ran over to return it to Lucius. 

When Lucius noticed the sock, he angrily yanked it out and threw it away, quickly tossing the diary back to Harry as if trying to wash his hands of the whole situation.

Dobby caught the sock like it was the key to his freedom and held it high with joy.

Having lost his position on the board and now his house-elf, Lucius was furious and even looked ready to lash out.

But Dobby, now free, struck his former master, stopping him in his tracks.

Lucius left in disgrace, and John watched him go, his fingers unconsciously rubbing his wand.

"Lucius Malfoy," John murmured, his gaze intense.

When they returned to the Great Hall, John saw students in pajamas, still groggy from sleep.

He couldn't help but wonder what Dumbledore was thinking, throwing a feast in the middle of the night.

________

Read 12 Chapters ahead of WN at:

Patreon.com/Dragonel