Hogwarts' John Wick

That day, Vernon Dursley's roaring overshadowed everything else as he unleashed his full fury.

This left Mr. Weasley feeling that Vernon was terribly rude, though he held back from losing his temper.

He instructed his sons to take Harry's luggage through the Floo Network first. Whether intentional or not, Fred spilled an entire handful of toffees on the floor just before leaving.

Feigning urgency, he exclaimed as he hurriedly cleaned up, deliberately leaving one piece behind.

Dudley, for all his flaws, always reacted first when it came to food.

As Harry stepped into the fireplace, he reflected on how the Dursleys had been relatively decent to him this summer and decided to bid them farewell.

Unfortunately, Vernon was still in a state of rage and fear and completely ignored him.

Mr. Weasley, slightly annoyed, muttered, "Didn't you hear him? You won't see your nephew again until next summer; you should at least say goodbye!"

Vernon looked like he was about to explode. You destroyed my living room, and now you're forcing me to say goodbye?!

He wanted to snap, but seeing the wand in Mr. Weasley's hand, he swallowed his anger and begrudgingly said, "Fine! Goodbye!"

His face turned an alarming shade of reddish-purple, clearly seething.

"...Goodbye," Harry replied, one foot already in the green flames of the fireplace.

"Ahhhh—!"

At that very moment, a horrifying retching sound erupted.

Aunt Petunia shrieked in terror.

Harry saw Dudley kneeling by the coffee table, a sticky, purplish-red tongue about a foot long protruding from his mouth. 

Dudley, his tongue blocking his throat, gagged and made garbled noises, unable to speak. 

At his feet lay a brightly colored toffee wrapper—the very same toffee Fred had "accidentally" dropped and left behind. 

Harry immediately realized this was Fred's doing. He almost laughed but managed to suppress it. 

Dudley was in visible distress, looking like he might choke. 

Petunia lunged at her son, grabbing at his tongue and desperately trying to pull it out. 

Vernon flailed his arms wildly, shouting curses and yelling at the Weasleys to get out, all while glancing nervously at Dudley, his small eyes filled with worry. 

Mr. Weasley also recognized this as one of Fred's pranks and stepped forward, wanting to help fix the situation. 

But Vernon, assuming he would harm Dudley, grabbed whatever was left intact in the room and hurled it at him. 

Mr. Weasley had no choice but to deflect the objects with his wand. 

"Oh, please, stop that!" Mr. Weasley pleaded desperately. "The solution is simple. It's all because of that toffee—Fred, my son, is always pulling pranks like this. I can fix it!" 

Vernon, already furious, turned redder than ever when he heard it was Fred's doing. He looked like he might storm off to grab his shotgun. 

"GET OUT! ALL OF YOU, GET OUT!" 

Vernon's stubby finger trembled as he pointed at Dudley, who was still in agony. Turning to Petunia, he said, "Go find that Wick boy next door. Beg him to save Dudley!" 

John was the only person Vernon could think of who wasn't openly hostile toward his family. In his mind, all these wizards were bullies—especially the Weasleys. 

They had blown up half his living room and turned Dudley into... this. 

Petunia struggled to support Dudley as she hurried outside. 

Mr. Weasley reached out as if to stop them but ultimately held back. 

Vernon, like a wild boar protecting its young, blocked the door and snarled, "Not unless you step over my dead body!" 

Mr. Weasley, at a loss for words, could only leave reluctantly. 

Still, a flicker of anger rose within him.

As the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, Mr. Weasley had spent his life fighting against wizards abusing Muggles. 

And now, it was his own son who had become a bully to Muggles. 

He stepped into the fireplace, hurrying back to reprimand his sons. 

As soon as Vernon saw him leave, he rushed outside to find his wife and son. 

... 

John had been on his way to the basement to conduct some experiments when a frantic knock sounded at the door. 

The knocking was urgent, and when John opened the door, he was startled by the sight of a nearly four-foot-long purplish-red tongue. 

"Dudley?" 

Staring in shock at Dudley's near-death state, John listened as Petunia tearfully pleaded, "Please, I beg you—save my son. He's dying!" 

John furrowed his brows as he ushered them inside. 

He drew his wand and pointed it at Dudley's tongue. "Finite Incantatem." 

Dudley's tongue began to shrink back to its normal size. John frowned and asked, "What happened?" 

Seeing her beloved son out of danger, Petunia finally breathed a sigh of relief. 

Just then, there was another knock at the door. John heard Vernon's heavy panting from outside and waved his hand casually. 

The door opened. 

Vernon, gasping for air, rushed inside. Seeing that Dudley was fine, he heaved a deep sigh of relief. 

The couple had clearly changed into their best clothes earlier, but now they were in a state of disarray—especially Vernon, who had some cuts from smashing decorations in his fury. 

Mrs. Wick appeared quietly, offering tea to the Dursleys, who were not frequent visitors. 

"That little shit—er—Harry!" Vernon began, but seeing John, he swallowed his anger and continued, "We put on our best clothes to welcome those Weasleys, and they blew up my house!" 

Vernon recounted, in loud and animated detail, what the Weasleys had done. 

John quickly pieced the situation together. 

To be fair, this time, the Weasleys were indeed in the wrong. 

They were there to pick up Harry, and Vernon had no objections—in fact, he fully supported it. 

The Weasley family likely never anticipated someone sealing up a fireplace. They had a friend connect the Floo Network, only to end up in a sealed-off hearth. 

Having no better understanding of the situation, Mr. Weasley simply blasted through the wall. The force was so strong it blew up half the living room. 

The Dursleys had even dressed up to welcome Harry's guardians.

If they'd been standing any closer to the fireplace, the whole family might've ended up hospitalized. 

Rubbing his slightly aching forehead, John could tell that Vernon was filing a complaint. 

John had just advised Vernon last term to treat Harry a little better, and now half his living room had been destroyed. 

"This was indeed the Weasley family's mistake. I'll help you repair your living room," John said with a sigh. "Wizards often misunderstand the Muggle world. Mr. Weasley probably didn't realize that ordinary people need to hire workers to fix damages like this." 

Hearing John's words, Vernon finally calmed down a little. 

John turned to look at Dudley. Dudley shrank back in fear, moving closer to Petunia. 

"Dudley's currently on a diet, right? I have a very effective training plan that works best with the right diet," John said. 

Dudley flinched at the mention of diet, recalling the dreadful green salads. He was about to protest when John continued, "Actually, the best way to lose weight isn't just eating vegetables. A balanced diet is key—beef and chicken breast can really help with weight loss." 

Dudley didn't hear much of the rest but latched onto the part about eating meat. Immediately, he began begging Petunia to agree. 

"..."

Petunia sighed helplessly and agreed to the plan. 

As promised, John went over to help repair the Dursleys' house. 

Walking into their home, John couldn't help but think about how childish pranks were understandable, but Mr. Weasley's lack of basic common sense was another matter entirely. 

Raising his hand, John waved his wand, and the damaged items in the living room began to restore themselves. 

In less than half a minute, everything was back to normal, including the sealed-up fireplace. 

As John left the Dursley home, he was met with an enthusiastic send-off from the entire family. 

Vernon, in particular, seemed to have completely changed his attitude. What had once been a perception of John as a meddling wizard defending Harry had transformed into respect for someone reasonable and fair-minded. 

When John returned home, he saw Mrs. Wick holding a basket of broken plates and teacups. 

"John," Mrs. Wick said, looking at him expectantly.

"..." John immediately understood. 

With another wave of his wand, all the items in the basket were as good as new. 

Feeling a bit drained, John didn't forget to write a letter to Percy, urging him to have a serious talk with the twins. Pranks like these on Muggles posed significant safety risks. 

Unlike wizards, Muggles lacked the physical resilience to withstand the twins' antics. 

The next day. 

After getting up and washing, John informed Mrs. Wick that he would be going out for a few days. 

When Watson learned that John was heading to the Quidditch World Cup, he almost got on his knees to beg his son to take him along. 

"Have you finished handling your own affairs?" John said casually. 

Watson immediately lost his nerve; he still had a pile of things to take care of. 

When the time came, John prepared to leave. 

He double-checked the items he needed to bring, as he would be camping overnight at the Quidditch World Cup grounds. 

Fortunately, he had already asked Tommy to transport most of the gear ahead of time, so he only needed to carry a few additional items himself. 

Stepping outside, John disappeared with a soft crack as he Apparated. 

Crack!

When he reappeared, he found himself in a desolate, misty swamp. 

Walking forward through the dense fog, a door came into view, followed by a small stone cottage. 

From the Muggle caretaker, Mr. Roberts, inside the stone cottage, John collected his tent and then headed toward the area behind the cottage. 

There, hundreds of uniquely shaped tents were already pitched, stretching all the way to the horizon, where the silhouettes of a dark forest loomed faintly in the distance. 

________

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