152: The Upside-Down Dog

Ron had suddenly become famous—and maybe he didn't mind being scared out of his wits if it meant all this attention.

For the first time in his life, he was getting more attention than the Harry Potter.

Though the lingering shock wasn't pleasant, he was already enthusiastically recounting his "Adventures of Ron" to the crowd.

"I was sleeping, then I heard this tearing sound. I thought I was dreaming, you know?"

Ron spoke like an old-fashioned storyteller, and the young wizards around him couldn't help but feel a thrill of suspense.

"But then this cold wind hit me, and I woke up, and one side of my bed curtains had been ripped off…" He was going into great detail when suddenly someone shouted.

"Look, there's a dog doing a handstand outside!"

In a flash, all the young wizards rushed out to see.

Tom, the beagle, was balancing on her front paws, looking forlorn in the corner, his cute appearance making some of the girls want to go over and help him.

But when they glanced at the Slytherin student standing nearby with a frosty look on his face, they didn't quite have the courage to step forward.

The Weasley twins came over, looking stunned. "Blimey, is that John?"

"He loves that dog. What happened?"

As the school's most well-known dog lover, John was actually punishing Tom.

The twins thought this was even scarier than hearing Filch had fallen in love.

Some even speculated that this John might actually be someone else in disguise.

Among those with this theory was Malfoy, who didn't hesitate to step up and "rescue" his friend's dog.

And then...

Malfoy, clutching his bruised eye, snapped at Goyle and Crabbe, "You both knew he was real, didn't you?"

The two quickly shook their heads, and Goyle, unable to hold it in, burst out laughing.

Malfoy pulled out his wand, which sent Goyle sprinting away in fear.

Daphne hurried over, taking in John's intimidating expression and asking with concern for Tom, "What's going on?"

"What's going on? Huh." With a cold smirk, John looked unmoved by Tom's pleading, nearly tearful expression.

What was going on?

This dog had actually stolen his spare wand and given it to Sirius Black.

He should've figured—ever since Fang started coming around begging for extra treats, he should've known.

Tom here had another dog on the side. And not just any dog—a wanted criminal.

"Don't plead for it," John said firmly.

His rare sternness made Daphne stop in her tracks, exchanging a bewildered look with Pansy.

Pansy: "Did you feed him something strange?"

Daphne: "Nope, I haven't even tried out the strawberry mapo tofu recipe from the Ice Creame shop yet."

A quick exchange of looks between them made it clear they were both thinking the same thing. If it wasn't something he ate, then what could've made John so angry?

They had no idea that John was still sore about getting bitten by the Black Dog.

If Crookshanks hadn't been hiding out in Gryffindor, there would probably be a cat doing handstands here as well.

John shifted his foot, a twitch at the corner of his mouth betraying the sharp pain.

Damn, that fucker really bit hard.

If John weren't as tough as he was, that bite might've taken a chunk out of his leg.

Leaving Tom to do the handstand until the end of class, John turned, a flash of annoyance in his eyes.

The last time he'd looked this rough was after being chased by those spiders in the web-filled forest.

With that look on his face, no one dared to approach him.

Ron, still a bit sour about losing the spotlight, muttered as he glanced over at John, "Do you think he found out about what we were doing this morning?"

He was referring to the room he went to in the morning. Harry, eyeing John carefully, said, "No way—he didn't come over there."

...

Walking with a bit of a limp to class, John headed to the infirmary to get his leg treated after it was over.

Simple.

Gold.

With 100 Galleons, his leg was completely healed.

The coin spell had simply activated, and the healing magic restored his leg.

John rubbed the spot of his former injury, now showing no trace of harm.

The price was still absurdly high, though.

John couldn't help but wonder if goblin magic had middlemen driving up the costs.

With a spring in his step, he headed back to the edge of the Forbidden Forest from last night, staring at the tree he'd shattered.

"It seems he held back."

John recalled the battle from the night before—Sirius hadn't used any offensive spells on him. Instead, he'd chosen spells to restrain and disarm.

That final bite might have just been a last resort.

Thinking this, John started walking toward the deeper forest.

Just as he was about to step in, he stopped, catching Luna's gaze as she looked right at him.

"Luna, what are you doing here?"

John walked over, and Luna seemed to drift along in a daze. Her voice was ethereal, almost like a song: "I'm looking for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Longbottom has a lot of Wrackspurts around him, so I came out."

"?"

John's mind practically sprouted a question mark. Luna pointed at his face and said, "Now you have a lot of Wrackspurts around you, too."

Wrackspurts?

He activated his insight spell but couldn't see anything.

"They're invisible," Luna sang gently. "They float into your ears and muddle up your thoughts. But now they're flying away."

John raised an eyebrow; his thoughts had indeed been a bit jumbled just now.

Glancing at Luna, who seemed ready to move deeper into the forest, John said, "It's dangerous over there. When I have time, I'll help you look for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

That bite from the night before had thrown him off balance, but Luna's appearance grounded him.

He smiled warmly, feeling a protective, almost sibling-like fondness—though he didn't actually have a sister.

Luna nodded and skipped over to him, her bare, muddy feet moving freely. John frowned and asked, "Did someone hide your shoes again?"

He knew Luna wasn't exactly popular in Ravenclaw, and it seemed like those "little eagles" had been a bit cruel.

"My shoes are magical," Luna replied without concern. "They play hide-and-seek when I fall asleep."

John thought for a moment, then nodded. "Then I'll give you a pair of shoes that won't play hide-and-seek," he said.

Luna smiled, a rare expression for her; she usually looked as if she were daydreaming.

John drew his wand and conjured a stream of water to wash the dirt off her feet, then took off his own shoes and placed them on her feet. A tap of his wand, and the oversized shoes shrank to fit.

Standing barefoot, he shrugged and said, "Now these shoes won't play hide-and-seek. You can rest easy."

Luna gazed at the charmed shoes and seemed genuinely happy.

John walked ahead barefoot, asking, "Can you tell me what exactly the Crumple-Horned Snorkack is?"

Luna followed, her steps leisurely and dreamlike, and answered in her airy voice, "It lives in Sweden, can't fly, has curved horns, and looks like a little calf…"

Her voice, like a gentle melody, drifted through the quiet forest.

Several people saw John walking Luna back to Ravenclaw Tower barefoot, and some Ravenclaw students fell silent as they noticed. Their lips moved, and John caught the words "Loony girl."

He looked up, and a silent pressure fell over the Ravenclaws who had been whispering. With a scream, a few of them scattered. When Luna turned her head, John simply waved with a smile.

Leaving Ravenclaw Tower, John headed to Professor Snape's office.

As John opened the door, he couldn't help but take a good look at Snape's hair.

Hmm, not much better than Sirius Black's.

Snape's gaze was icy, and his eyes lowered, noting John's muddy, bare feet.

They stood in silence for a moment until John finally asked, "So, Professor Lupin wasn't the only one involved in that attempted murder, was he?"

Snape's eyes narrowed, his tone dripping with irritation. "I told you already, John Wick, that werewolf is no saint."

"He and Sirius Black—"

John paused, fixing his gaze on Snape, and continued, "—and Harry's father."

"If this is all you've found after all this effort, then, Mr. Wick, I must say I'm disappointed," Snape sneered with an edge, as if mocking the simplicity of John's findings.

Ignoring the barb, John stepped closer to Snape. "So… the one who was almost killed—was you, wasn't it, Professor?"

At this, Snape's face darkened completely, and John could see a slight twitch in his expression.

"...Mr. Wick, you've learned far more than you should. Perhaps Lupin was quite pleased to recount those days to you."

In the end, Snape held his temper, his upper lip stiffened, clearly on the razor's edge of losing patience.

"No," John shook his head, watching Snape's nearly furious expression, and said calmly, "It was Sirius Black who told me."

"What!?" Snape shot to his feet, his eyes locked on John with a piercing glare.

His face trembled, and he squeezed out the words from his teeth one by one: "You met him, the damned Azkaban fugitive, Sirius Black."

His face was angry and embarrassed, and even mixed with murderous intent that people could see.

"Tell me... where is that damned guy!"

__________

Read 12 Chapters ahead of WN:

Patreon.com/Dragonel