Old broomsticks lay beside each young witch and wizard. Madam Hooch, dressed smartly, instructed each student carefully.
Despite her repeated warnings to be cautious, an accident occurred.
Neville lost control and soared into the sky, his Remembrall falling to the ground. Though the fall was somewhat cushioned, he still broke his arm.
Madam Hooch hurriedly took Neville to the hospital wing, leaving the two houses' students looking at each other in confusion.
Draco Malfoy picked up Neville's Remembrall and began taunting Harry, which inadvertently led Professor McGonagall to discover Harry's Seeker talent.
John didn't get involved. Firstly, he knew Harry was there, and secondly, he was still struggling with his broomstick.
After several attempts, John finally managed to get airborne.
Hermione, wanting him to avoid breaking the rules like the others, found herself talking to empty air and ended up stomping her foot in frustration.
Though he wobbled at first, John soon got the hang of it and stabilized.
[Ding, you've received the buff: Pilot]
[Pilot: Increases broom flying speed and control]
"Is that even possible?"
Once stable, John began to enjoy flying freely.
Professor Snape, passing by and seeing his performance, snorted and turned away.
From ancient times, flying had been a cherished dream of humankind.
Having mastered this ability, John reluctantly landed only when class ended.
At dinner, John encountered Malfoy.
Malfoy, flanked by his two cronies, strutted up arrogantly and said, "Wick, didn't you want to duel me? I'm challenging you now. Tonight at eleven-thirty, in the Trophy Room on the third floor."
With that, Malfoy, looking like a victorious rooster, walked away with his cronies.
John watched him go, muttering, "Has this kid been listening to too much Liang Jingru? Where did he get the courage?"
Didn't he know John was supposed to clean the Trophy Room?
Carrying a bag of cat food sent by Mrs. Wick, John made his usual trek to the Trophy Room.
Mrs. Norris sat by the door, her red eyes gleaming like stained glass as she meowed at John.
By now, John had grown quite familiar with Mrs. Norris. He opened the cat food and poured some out for her.
After finishing his cleaning, Mrs. Norris had also finished eating.
John picked her up and took out a comb from his pocket, brushing her tangled fur smooth.
Mrs. Norris purred contentedly.
Filch was likely out catching students, having learned that John wouldn't shirk his duties, he now left John to clean the Trophy Room alone.
"I'll just see what you're up to."
Knowing Malfoy wouldn't be foolish enough to challenge him, John decided to stick around and see what tricks he had up his sleeve.
Since he was already punished to clean here, he didn't mind staying a bit longer.
At eleven-thirty, instead of Malfoy, he heard hushed whispers.
Four people walked into the Trophy Room: the trio of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, along with a stray Neville.
Neville had been locked out for hours after forgetting the common room password following his arm treatment, eventually being found by the trio.
Seeing John, the four stopped in their tracks.
"What are you doing here?" John asked, puzzled.
Harry, equally confused, said, "Malfoy told us to come here. Are you his accomplice?"
John looked exasperatedly at the suddenly wary Harry and said, "Do you think Malfoy got beat up for nothing on the first day?"
That made sense, leaving Harry speechless.
So now, it was four Gryffindors and one Slytherin.
The five of them stared at each other, wide-eyed, until Harry angrily exclaimed, "We've been tricked by Malfoy!"
Ron, equally upset, added, "Sneaky Slytherin—uh, not you, John."
Thanks to the incident at the start of the term, where John had single-handedly taken on three opponents, he had become the one Slytherin the Gryffindors liked.
In fact, whenever anyone from the four houses mentioned John Wick, their first thought was that the Sorting Hat must have malfunctioned. Surely, he belonged in Gryffindor.
Even the Gryffindor students thought so. The Weasley twins were convinced that the Sorting Hat must have been clouded by too much dust and planned to give it a thorough cleaning with detergent.
As they were talking, they heard Filch's voice outside.
John quickly realized Malfoy's plan was to get them caught out of bed.
Harry figured it out too and shouted, "Oh no, it's Filch! We need to run!"
The four of them bolted for the exit, dragging John along by each arm, as Neville and Hermione each grabbed one of his hands.
There was a reason these two ended up in Gryffindor, the renowned house of boldness. They didn't give John any chance to explain, turning the innocent bystander into a fugitive.
John had no choice but to run with them, even pulling Neville back to his feet when he nearly tripped.
They ran through the castle with Filch hot on their heels, occasionally hearing Mrs. Norris's warning meows.
John couldn't help but grumble internally, "All that cat food for nothing."
Despite feeding her so well, Mrs. Norris had no qualms about betraying him at a critical moment.
They finally reached the Charms classroom area and leaned against the cold walls, gasping for breath.
Except for John, who remained unfazed.
Strength vs. Magic: Round Two.
Strength wins again.
…
Gasping for breath, Hermione scolded, "I—told—you."
"Malfoy tricked you. He never intended to duel. He must have tipped off Filch."
Harry realized this too, but his pride wouldn't let him admit it out loud. All he could think about was getting back to the Gryffindor common room. If they got caught, they'd be expelled for sure.
"That sneaky Malfoy!" Harry cursed under his breath.
Just as they were about to leave, things took a turn for the worse.
A door creaked open, and Peeves the Poltergeist, dressed like a clown, swooped out.
Seeing the group of students, Peeves let out a piercing shriek.
Harry's heart sank. "Peeves, please, you'll get us expelled!"
Peeves cackled, "I'm going to tell Filch and have him catch you all. It's for your own good."
Ron tried to threaten him, but it was no use. He swung at Peeves in frustration, making things worse. Peeves began to wail loudly, attracting Filch.
John glanced at Peeves, his temper flaring.
No wonder no one liked Peeves—he was truly insufferable.
Seeing John, Peeves remembered his fierce reputation from the start of term and hesitated.
"After this is over, I'll make sure Peeves gets what's coming to him," John muttered.
As they passed Peeves, John made a throat-slitting gesture with his thumb.
Though Peeves didn't understand the gesture, he backed away nervously.
They reached the end of the corridor, where they found a locked door.
Ron wailed in despair, "We're done for!"
"Move aside, Alohomora!" John said, pulling out his wand and unlocking the door.
They quickly slipped inside and shut the door, pressing their ears to it.
Outside, Filch met Peeves, who played tricks on him, leaving Filch cursing in frustration.
John, bored, looked around the room. When he turned back, he saw three massive heads.
The enormous creature filled the room, six fierce eyes glaring at them in apparent surprise.
Swallowing hard, John's voice trembled slightly, "Hermione, Harry, Ron, Neville—you might want to see this."
They turned and froze at the sight.
Faced with the choice between Filch and a possible death, Filch seemed like the friendlier option.
Without hesitation, John reached for the door handle and opened it.
"Run!" John shouted to the four who were frozen in place. He dragged Neville, who was closest to him and whose legs had gone weak, out of the room. The others quickly followed suit.
With a loud bang, the door slammed shut behind them.