Unicorn?
A white horse with a spiraled horn on its head appeared in John's mind.
The unicorn is a symbol of purity and a protected species.
Upon hearing the wailing, Hagrid ran towards the sound, his large frame surprisingly swift.
Despite John's physical fitness, honed through exercise, he struggled to keep up with Hagrid, who was accustomed to running in the forest and showed no signs of exertion. John had to sprint at full speed just to barely keep pace.
At a forest clearing with a water source, they found the unicorn.
The beautiful creature lay there, wailing, with a horrific wound on its body, bleeding silvery white blood like mercury.
"Approach carefully," Hagrid cautioned, gripping his crossbow tightly, ready to shoot if necessary.
The two cautiously approached the unicorn. Seeing its dire state, Hagrid couldn't bear to look.
"Oh no."
He knelt down to try to treat the unicorn, but its wounds were too severe.
"Nobody would harm a unicorn except for those insane enough to risk it," Hagrid said heavily. The wound was beyond saving.
John's heart sank. Unicorns were pure creatures, and even the beings in the Forbidden Forest wouldn't harm them.
A name popped into his mind: Quirrell.
Quirrell's nightly departures from Hogwarts were suspicious, and now with the unicorn being attacked, it was hard to believe he wasn't involved.
"John, let's bury her," Hagrid said.
They stayed with the unicorn until its final moments. The unicorn eventually stopped breathing, its eyes losing their sparkle as it collapsed.
They buried the unicorn in the Forbidden Forest, and Hagrid was in a somber mood all the way back.
John understood. Hagrid loved magical creatures, and seeing a unicorn die in front of him must have been heartbreaking.
"Hagrid, try to stay positive. We need to stay strong," John said as they returned to Hagrid's hut, where John tasted rock cakes.
The cakes were nearly inedible, but after John comforted Hagrid, he gradually felt a bit better.
"That wasn't an ordinary event. We need to prevent it from happening again," John warned Hagrid, knowing there would be a second time.
Hagrid perked up, "You're right, John. We must protect those little darlings."
Little darlings?
Only Hagrid would refer to the creatures in the Forbidden Forest that way.
After their patrol, John fed Fang some dog food.
Instead of returning to the common room immediately, he went to the library on the fifth floor.
Skilled in navigating the Restricted Section, John found a spellbook on Occlumency.
He felt an impending sense of danger, making Occlumency a priority.
He headed to the Room of Requirement to study and, after a night of effort, managed to reach level 1 in his studies.
...
On the day of the Quidditch match.
John was in the Great Hall, eating toast while Hermione fussed over Harry like a sister.
"I don't want to eat anything."
Harry shook his head, rejecting Hermione's offer, feeling too nervous, his legs trembling.
This feeling was terrible. More than falling off his broomstick, he feared losing the match in front of everyone.
"Don't be nervous, Harry. Just do your best," John said, sipping water. "It'd be worse if you catch the Golden Snitch but can't hold onto it, or if you get hit by a Bludger and end up in the hospital wing."
Harry saw the sense in that and reluctantly took a few bites of bread.
He didn't want to hear Madam Pomfrey's nagging.
Hogwarts' resident demolition expert, Seamus Finnigan, asked John curiously, "John, are you going to watch the match? See us beat Slytherin?"
"Uh... I'm in Slytherin."
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."
Seamus hurriedly explained, and John reassured him that he understood.
For some reason, Gryffindor students always instinctively considered John one of them.
Malfoy approached with his two cronies. Seeing Gryffindor and the despised Potter, he sneered.
"Wick, I'll take you to the Quidditch pitch. You probably don't know where it is," he said with a condescending air.
John figured he might as well go with them, as he intended to cheer for Slytherin.
After they left, Ron gaped, "I can't believe it. Malfoy actually invited John."
Harry was equally shocked, "I wish I could say you were mistaken, but I saw it too."
Seamus, convinced of a conspiracy, declared, "John must have used a Confundus Charm on Malfoy."
Hermione, thinking the Gryffindors were overreacting, wrinkled her nose and said, "John has earned almost 200 points for Slytherin."
Good behavior?
The Gryffindors exchanged puzzled looks. Beating up Malfoy on the first day counted as good behavior?
They were confused.
...
Quidditch truly was the most exciting sport in the wizarding world, and the large Quidditch pitch was almost too crowded for John to get a spot.
"See? Only I could find such a great spot," Malfoy boasted, ignoring that John had just saved him from falling down the stairs.
Goyle and Crabbe cleared the way, securing a good vantage point.
The stadium was divided into two distinct sections, one red for Gryffindor and one green for Slytherin.
The spectators were almost fighting before the match even began.
With Madam Hooch's silver whistle, the Quidditch match officially started.
The commentator, Gryffindor's Lee Jordan, stood beside Professor McGonagall, a die-hard Quidditch fan.
He cheered enthusiastically whenever Gryffindor scored and gave lackluster comments when Slytherin scored, much to John's amusement. This blatant bias went unnoticed by everyone.
After the first goal, John saw Hagrid pushing through the crowd on the opposite side. Even wizards couldn't resist the allure of Quidditch. Ron and Hermione looked like two small children beside him.
The match was intense, mainly due to the frequent fouls.
John had already heard the audience shout "foul" at least five or six times.
Unfortunately, Quidditch had no red cards.
Suddenly, John saw Harry's broomstick jerking erratically, as if it were bewitched.
He glanced at Malfoy, who was gloating over Potter's misfortune.
"Right, Malfoy doesn't have the skill for this," John muttered, which Malfoy didn't catch.
After a while, Harry's broomstick finally steadied.
John noticed that their Head of House's robes were on fire, and after putting it out, she accidentally elbowed Quirrell in the face.
"That must've hurt."
Unexpectedly, their Head of House seemed well-trained, nearly knocking Quirrell unconscious with that elbow. John's sharp eyes saw Quirrell's head slam against the seat behind him, leaving him dazed for several minutes.
Once recovered, Harry spotted the Golden Snitch and dived after it, crashing into the ground.
People watched as he clutched his mouth, then spat out the Golden Snitch.
Lee Jordan immediately announced that Harry had caught the Golden Snitch, ending the match.
With a score of 170 to 60, Gryffindor won.
John felt a pang of regret, saying, "We need a better Seeker."
With Harry's exceptional flying skills and his top-tier Nimbus 2000, Slytherin's Seeker seemed like a block of wood.
Malfoy nodded in agreement, then, realizing his unexpected camaraderie with John Wick, quickly left.
He also resolved to become Slytherin's Seeker one day and thoroughly defeat Potter.
John found Harry's broomstick incident suspicious.
As for whether their Head of House was involved, John could only say Snape was a steadfast ally.
After all, Snape, a lovesick fool, would never harm Lily's child. John even suspected that if Harry were a girl, Snape might have taken a more nurturing role.
This was, after all, a man willing to betray Voldemort for his unrequited love.
...
"Forget the big dog, forget what it's guarding. That's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel..."
"Aha, so it involves someone named Nicolas Flamel, huh?"
Hagrid's frustrated voice and Harry's inquisitive tone echoed.
John, having come from watching the match, stood at the door, pondering whether to enter.
Glancing at the dog food he brought, John decided he could wait, but Fang, the greedy dog, probably couldn't.
He could already hear Fang drooling.
It was unclear how this big dog ended up considering Tom its boss just for food.
John knocked on the door and opened it, seeing Hagrid inside, looking frustrated and upset with himself.
The trio of Harry, Ron, and Hermione were there too.
And, of course, the rock cakes on the table.
He hoped Hermione's dentist father could fix their teeth.
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