Hogwarts’ John Wick

Chapter 553 553: 553: Hello, Hogwarts

John leaned against the table and glanced at Credence.

Seeing him in tears, John let out a sigh.

"Credence."

Credence slowly raised his head.

"What are you really pursuing, family, or the truth?"

Family or the truth?

Credence couldn't answer. What had happened today had brought him within a step of the truth.

"If your family's condition for taking you back is that you leave Nagini," John walked over, staring into Credence's eyes, "would you accept it?"

"No… it wouldn't be like that…"

John said calmly, "Maledictus. Listen to that name. They won't even call her a witch."

A Maledictus was treated as an exhibit, displayed alongside magical creatures in the circus.

Credence couldn't respond, because over these past months, he had come to understand that John was telling the truth.

"Family… or Nagini…" Credence looked up at Nagini. Seeing the worry on her face, he fell into hesitation.

John didn't urge him. He wanted to see whether this was someone worth sympathizing with, or helping.

At first, his relationship with Credence had been nothing more than a transaction. He could have completed the deal and left.

But now he couldn't. John glanced at Nagini, who was watching Credence with complete devotion.

John knew how much suffering Nagini would endure in the future.

He wouldn't allow his friends to be left with regrets.

But the premise was that Credence was someone worth saving.

You could say Slytherin was selfish, lacking the self-sacrificing spirit of Gryffindor.

But if you had a friend, you would want them to be a Slytherin.

Because their selfishness and narrowness were reserved for the people they truly cared about.

John would never be a saint in this lifetime. He possessed all the qualities of a Slytherin.

If one day his friend became an Obscurial, he wouldn't lock them away out of fear of harming others.

He would do everything in his power to save them.

He waited quietly for Credence's answer.

He had expected to wait a long time, but to his surprise, after breaking eye contact, Credence said without hesitation, "I choose Nagini."

"What you said is right, but I also don't want to give up searching for my family."

Credence no longer curled up. He slowly stood.

"My family has already become my obsession. I want to know why they abandoned me. I only need an answer."

His words were firm and resolute, so much so that Nagini even grew shy, something rare for her.

John smiled and handed the wand back to Credence.

"In that case, from now on, every drop of your magic belongs to me."

Credence took it in confusion, not understanding why.

But John gave no explanation, only telling him to do as instructed.

Noticing that Credence's release of magic was somewhat slow, John simply used mental magic to accelerate it.

As a result, in a single night, Credence became utterly exhausted.

Nagini felt heartbroken for him, but John did not.

He placed the wand, now glowing again, into the cauldron. As magic poured into it, the contents rapidly boiled.

At last, the liquid inside solidified, leaving behind a single drop of colorless fluid within the crystal.

"Reducto."

The solid cracked and burst apart, leaving only that single drop of colorless liquid floating in midair.

With a flick of his wand, Credence cried out in pain as a cut appeared on the back of his hand.

The blood flew toward John. Under the guidance of his wand, it gradually began to change.

John cut open his own palm, merging it with the blood.

Golden blood coiled around it, finally forming a pendant.

At the center of the figure-eight ouroboros pendant, the red blood and the colorless liquid circled each other, revolving endlessly, yet never touching.

John tossed it to Credence.

"Even if you die, you're to wear it in your grave."

Glancing at the bewildered Credence catching the pendant, John said calmly, "Our deal is complete."

"You're leaving?" Credence asked anxiously.

"No."

Just as Credence was about to smile, John added flatly, "No need to rush it today."

So he was still going to leave.

Credence felt a deep sense of loss, but he held onto a sliver of hope and asked, "Will we meet again?"

"I told you, Credence," John tapped the table with his wand, and everything on it quickly packed itself away, "the choice is yours."

"I'm just not strong enough," Credence understood what John meant.

At that moment, his feelings were even heavier than the day before.

When he looked up again, John was already gone.

…

Rumors spread that Credence was the last bloodline of that ancient French pure-blood family.

Not only did others believe it, even Dumbledore was somewhat convinced.

Travers, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, led a group of Aurors to find Dumbledore.

In the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom,

Dumbledore was teaching a lesson.

There was an open space in the middle of the room, surrounded by students.

They watched the scene before them with great interest.

A large-built boy in Gryffindor robes stood ready to engage. His appearance and build closely resembled Cormac McLaggen, likely a relative.

Circling him was their teacher, Dumbledore.

Although the boy was full of confidence, the wizard he faced was the only one in the world capable of standing against Grindelwald.

In almost a single exchange, the boy was sent flying, landing on a soft sofa conjured by Dumbledore.

The boy's stunned expression was so comical that the entire class burst into laughter.

Suddenly, the door opened.

Travers entered the classroom with Theseus, Leta, and several Aurors.

A female professor followed behind, scolding him for barging in. Already displeased with the school accepting Ministry funding while maintaining autonomy, Travers said, "I am the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I have the authority to go wherever I wish."

He glanced at the students and ordered, "Everyone out."

In another place, that command might have worked.

But this was the school, Dumbledore's domain.

The students didn't move until Dumbledore spoke, "Please follow the professor outside."

Only one person remained, the McLaggen boy. He said to Travers, "He's our best teacher."

Dumbledore said, "Thank you, McLaggen."

"Out!" Whatever McLaggen meant, it only made Travers more irritated.

McLaggen left.

The way Travers looked at Dumbledore was filled with wariness.

A mere teacher, yet the students defended him on their own, even to the point of ignoring the Ministry's orders.

Thinking of his purpose today, Travers suppressed his dissatisfaction.

He got straight to the point. "Newt Scamander is in Paris."

Dumbledore feigned ignorance. "Is he?"

"Stop pretending," Travers snorted coldly. "I know you're the one who sent him."

"If you had the privilege of teaching him," Dumbledore shrugged, "you would know that Newt isn't one to follow orders."

That attitude irritated Travers to no end. He disliked people who played dumb like this.

He tossed a small book to Dumbledore, signaling him to open it. "Have you read The Predictions of Tycho Dodonus?"

"Many years ago."

"The son is cruelly exiled, the daughter sinks into deep despair," Travers recited from the book.

"Yes, I know." Dumbledore flipped through it casually.

"It's rumored that this prophecy refers to an Obscurial. They say Grindelwald wants…"

"Wants a follower of noble birth. I've heard that rumor," Dumbledore said, his eyes deepening.

He seemed intent on maintaining his act of feigned ignorance.

Travers said irritably, "Wherever an Obscurial appears, Scamander shows up, to protect her."

"And you've even built a rather small international network of contacts."

He was practically tearing open all of Dumbledore's arrangements. Only then did Dumbledore finally stop pretending.

"No matter how long you've been monitoring me and my friends, you won't find even the slightest trace of a fabricated rebellion, Travers."

Dumbledore spoke calmly and firmly. "Because our goal is the same. To defeat Grindelwald."

"But let me warn you. Political suppression and forceful sanctions like this will only drive more supporters into his arms."

Travers snapped, "I'm not interested in your warnings!"

Did you think I wanted to keep pressing you like this?

Who was it that claimed to want no power, yet built an international network?

Who was it that claimed ignorance, yet had Newt Scamander turn New York upside down?

Who was it that pretended not to know while carrying out actions that changed everything?

Travers said bluntly, "Listen, I didn't even want to bring this up, because I don't like you."

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