Hogwarts’ John Wick

108: Albania and the source of Call

The silver thread slipped from John's palm and started pulling in a specific direction.

He tightened his grip, and the thread remained still in his hand, though he could feel a faint force tugging at it.

"It's guiding me," John muttered.

After a moment of consideration, he left the Belby estate and Apparated. The moment he activated Apparition, the pull of the thread in his hand grew stronger.

Then John did something incredibly reckless.

He didn't complete the Apparition. Instead, he let the thread pull him wherever it wanted to go.

The sensation was strange, his body being stretched and compressed in all directions. Slowly, he felt himself being drawn into the thread.

His body raced through an unknown dimension, enduring the pain of this rapid acceleration.

With a loud pop, John finally landed, glowing with a faint silver light. The thread in his hand began to dissolve.

He took a look around and said, "Fuu~ I can say for certain, I've just illegally entered another country—Urg! Uwack!"

The wild and untamed surroundings made it clear—this wasn't anywhere in his homeland.

The primitive forest surrounded John, emphasizing how remote this place was.

It was his first time using Apparition for such a long-distance journey, and the intense nausea hit him hard. He gagged, his mouth opening as he dry-heaved a few times.

"Haah.. This scene looks exactly like the place I saw before," he muttered.

After a while, he recovered.

He fixed his gaze on a forked tree. In his earlier vision, this tree had appeared as well. The figure he saw had hidden there before disappearing.

Carefully approaching the tree, John's pupils dilated, the blackness in his eyes spreading.

In his sight, tiny chaotic particles of magic shimmered on the tree, just a few, scattered here and there.

"Is this ancient magic?" he wondered.

Once he was sure there was no immediate danger, John reached out to touch the particles.

As soon as his hand made contact, the chaotic particles transformed into a snake, biting his palm.

He recoiled quickly, inspecting his hand. A faint, dark wound was left behind, barely noticeable unless examined closely.

"Highly aggressive," he murmured.

After some trial and error, he conjured a small orb of water at his fingertips and wrapped it around the chaotic particles, containing them.

"Only goblin magic, which is also ancient, can control this," John muttered.

Three drops of water, each encasing one chaotic particle, swirled around his hand.

He grabbed one of the orbs and softly whispered, "Point me (poineme)."

It was merely an experiment, but to his surprise, the water droplet in his palm pointed in a specific direction.

John followed the direction indicated by the orb, noticing that the underbrush thickened as he progressed.

Occasionally, strange magical creatures scurried away, either from the sides or from the trees above.

"Damn. If Hagrid were here, he'd be thrilled," John thought with amusement.

At one point, a Red Cap attempted to ambush him, aiming for his knees, but John swiftly kicked it away.

After some time, the orb in his hand suddenly exploded.

"Out of magic?" he remarked.

Picking up the next orb, he repeated the process.

By the time the last orb had also burst, John had been walking for nearly another hour.

Finally, he saw an exit ahead — a small wooden cabin.

Noticing the absence of any light inside, John paused for a moment before casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself.

As he approached the cabin, he heard faint noises coming from within.

It sounded like a large snake hissing and flicking its tongue, accompanied by a chilling, sucking noise that made John's skin crawl.

"Nagini!"

The voice made John pause.

The last time he'd heard it was in his first year, in the Chamber of the Philosopher's Stone.

Hoarse, cold, like the feeling of a stone slipping down your spine in the dead of winter.

John instinctively gripped his wand tighter and crept closer to the wooden cabin.

The cabin, once someone's home, had likely now become a tomb for its previous owner, reduced to little more than bones.

Through a crack, John saw him—Voldemort, the Dark Lord who once terrorized the magical world.

But now, he was grotesque, an unnatural monstrosity, lying weakly on top of a twelve-foot-long serpent, Nagini.

Voldemort was surviving on venom, barely clinging to life.

He was so weak, so vulnerable, that a single thought crossed John's mind.

'Kill him.'

The thought, once there, surged like a flood, unstoppable and overwhelming.

He had once defeated Voldemort when he possessed Quirrell. He had beaten Tom Riddle, the student form of the Dark Lord.

John thought to himself: perhaps he could kill Voldemort now.

Now, perhaps he could alter the entire course of history—change the future of Hogwarts and prevent the many battles to come.

'Kill him.'

'Kill himKill himKill himKill himKill himKill himKill himKill him'

The thought became unstoppable, flooding John's mind.

His eyes locked onto the grotesque figure that was Voldemort.

The wand in his hand was ready to unleash a Killing Curse or Fiendfyre, to erase the Dark Lord from existence forever.

Merlin's First-Class Order, future White Wizard, the esteemed Johnny Silverhand, savior of the magical world.

These visions of the future flickered through his mind.

John's heartbeat quickened as he raised his wand, pointing directly at the abomination.

Just as he was about to strike, John's vision flashed with colors.

...

"Fiendfyre!"

John cast the spell decisively, and crimson flames instantly engulfed the entire wooden cabin form outside.

He saw Voldemort's angry roar, and the big snake wanted to get out but the outside was surrounded by Fiendfyre.

Fiendfyre turned into a fire dragon and entered the cabin window.

The moment it entered, Fiendfyre touched a barrier and turned into a green flame snake to devour John.

...

Beads of sweat covered his forehead as John realized his fate. The thoughts flooding his mind vanished instantly.

"There's an incredibly advanced rebound curse on it."

John was filled with fear. If he had actually attacked, the rebound curse would have severely harmed him.

At the same time, he realized that his state of mind earlier had been off, much like when Harry had been influenced by the diary.

Without making a sound, John retreated, realizing he had almost fallen into the Dark Lord's trap.

Luckily, his ability to foresee the future saved him. Otherwise, he might not have walked away from this.

Once he had retreated far enough, John fixed his gaze on the small cabin.

His pupils darkened as he saw the cabin was flowing with chaotic particles.

'Could these be related to Voldemort?'

John couldn't recall Voldemort ever using ancient magic, but given the Dark Lord's talent, it wouldn't be surprising if he had mastered it.

As he observed further, he noticed that the chaotic particles were not coming from Voldemort but were instead emanating from the snake.

"Nagini… " After muttering the snake's name, some fog cleared from his mind.

"..I somehow remember it was destroyed by Neville as a Horcrux later."

Staring at the giant snake, John suddenly heard a voice in his ear.

~~"I'm here, save me."~~

The voice was sorrowful, filled with pain and sadness. John looked in surprise at the large snake, which showed no signs of anything unusual.

The voice seemed to be coming from inside the snake, as if someone was trapped within.

"Voldemort's magic, or..."

John recalled that it was after touching the book on the Blood Curse that he first heard the call. He glanced at the giant snake.

Could it be that this was a victim of the Blood Curse, transformed into a cursed serpent?

The Blood Curse could turn a person into a snake, granting them a power similar to that of an Animagus, but with the risk of being consumed by that very power.

If his guess was correct, the snake's original form should be human.

The Blood Curse was ancient, and it seemed to align with the characteristics of ancient magic.

"So, you were the one calling me here."

John gazed at the serpent, falling deep into thought.

This snake was destined to become one of Voldemort's Horcruxes—or perhaps it already was?

Under such circumstances, taking the snake away seemed to be filled with challenges.

"Hmm, Should I go back and get help?"

As soon as the thought occurred, John immediately dismissed it. He had no idea where he was, and if he left, it would likely be difficult to return.

Right now, he was all alone, and across from him was the formidable Voldemort.

The chances looked slim.

"It's not my style to let such a rare piece of ancient magic material slip through my fingers."

John was torn. The system hadn't issued any specific task, and he wasn't sure whether to take the risk or not.

"Ok! Judging from the earlier magical summons, this giant snake probably goes out to hunt or to carry out tasks for Voldemort. Once it leaves, things will be much easier."

In a word, he decided to wait.

Since he couldn't make a move against Voldemort, his only option was to bide his time—waiting until Nagini left the hut.

"If it doesn't leave within a week, I'll just bail."

Setting himself a time limit, John began his long wait.

Fortunately, he had brought along his small pouch, packed with snacks like dried fish—originally meant for feeding owls but now doubling as his rations.

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