Hogwarts’ John Wick

"Let me think… where did he conduct his experiments?"

This island had originally belonged to Ekrizdis. Only after his death was it discovered and officially turned into Azkaban Prison.

The Ministry of Magic must have thoroughly inspected this dangerous, curse-filled place. If anything had been found, it would have already been taken away or destroyed.

It seemed, at first glance, that Ekrizdis had left nothing behind.

But..

John stared at the seawater crashing into the cavern.

"I remember seeing water."

A thought flashed through his mind, and he walked toward the sea.

If there truly was a place the Ministry wouldn't search, then the seabed was the only possibility.

Transforming his lungs into those of a dragon, John dove several hundred meters in a single breath.

Finally, when half the air in his lungs had been used up, he saw a ship resting on the ocean floor.

Strangely, it had no sails and no rudder.

Rather than a ship, it looked more like a sealed container.

He brushed aside a fish that swam too close and found an entrance.

It was a broken door, the interior completely flooded with seawater.

Scattered bones and various silver objects lay sunken within.

Shackles used for restraint and hooks rusted from long exposure to seawater lay scattered around.

There had once been all kinds of magic here, but with the passage of time, it had all faded.

Fish and parasites had taken over, settling in freely.

After searching for a while, John found a cabinet.

Inside were parchment records filled with writing.

But the seawater had done significant damage. Some had even been washed away.

John tapped it with his wand, making the cabinet follow him as he swam out.

Once he surfaced, he began examining its contents.

"Experimental records." He stared at the parchments.

An entire cabinet full of records. Just how many people had Ekrizdis harmed?

Using magic, he dried the parchments.

Fortunately, parchment was far more durable than ordinary paper.

The writing on them had also been made with special ink.

"Every dark wizard is a mad scientist."

These records documented horrifying experiments, but they also contained the crystallization of Ekrizdis's knowledge.

"I once encountered a dream demon," John murmured softly, reading the contents of one parchment.

"Dream demon?"

The first time John had come face to face with Ekrizdis, he had taken on the appearance of Ambrosius.

"He met Ambrosius? No… it should be Merlin."

In the entire wizarding world, the only one who could be called a god was Merlin.

Legend said that Merlin was the son of a dream demon.

A being capable of entering the dreams of others, and Merlin was born of such a creature.

There were also tales that Merlin was the child of an elf and a dream demon.

If there truly was an immortal wizard, then there could only be one.

Merlin.

"The Ambrosius I knew stayed in the Dragon Grounds for a thousand years and eventually exhausted his soul," he murmured. "Then who did he encounter?"

The one John had met was his senior, the one who had told him that Merlin was not just a single person.

"And there's also the Witcher world," John pondered. "Which Merlin was that one?"

Whether it was Dumbledore or Grindelwald, neither of them came close to Merlin in terms of mystery.

The god of magic in the wizarding world.

John pulled his thoughts back and snapped his fingers.

The parchments inside the cabinet rose neatly, scattering to fill the entire cavern.

With another wave of his wand, they rapidly gathered before him.

Thousands of sheets stacked together, their volume shrinking until they formed a single book.

John looked at the blank cover and thought for a moment. "Let's call it Ekrizdis: Ravings of a Madman."

…

The title appeared on the cover.

The cabinet burst apart, its fragments sinking back into the seabed.

John picked up Ekrizdis: Ravings of a Madman and placed it into his small bag.

He had already delayed long enough.

"Perhaps Diagon Alley will get me to Paris faster."

Wings spread from his back. John had no intention of flying for days again.

He headed toward London.

…

London.

Rainy days were far more common here than clear skies.

The streets were still lined with unmelted snow.

John Apparated back here.

He appeared in Diagon Alley, beside a wizarding post office.

John glanced at it, then suddenly stopped.

Watching the owls flying out, a thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.

"If I can't set an anchor in the past, then I'll let the future set it instead."

The idea took root and began to grow rapidly.

John murmured to himself, "Once I'm done with Credence's matter, I'll try it."

For now, the conditions weren't sufficient. He took a long look at the owl post office.

Then he headed toward a Portkey, encountering someone from the Malfoy family along the way.

What?

How could he be sure it was a Malfoy?

That signature platinum-blond hair, the arrogant, punchable expression, and the preference for wearing all black.

All the signs were enough for John to confirm it was a member of the Malfoy family.

After all, Malfoy genes were strong. Generation after generation looked like they were carved from the same mold.

He just didn't know which elder of Draco's family this Malfoy was.

Beside that Malfoy stood a man in his twenties with black hair, speaking quietly with him.

A pale face and dark golden eyes.

The man leaned in, whispering.

"You should continue to exert your influence."

"I'm already taking a considerable risk by doing this," Malfoy replied.

The man let out a soft laugh, his tone carrying a deeper meaning. "Why do I feel like you're deceiving me?"

Malfoy forced an awkward smile, a hint of wariness flashing in his eyes. "How could that be?"

"Grindelwald will change this world. The Malfoy family needs to choose the right side." The man stood and placed his hat on his head.

To Malfoy, it sounded like a warning.

Malfoy gave a cold snort.

Grindelwald's ideology was not the same as pure-blood supremacy. What he sought was revolution, a reform that would change the way wizards lived.

But what families like the Malfoys wanted was for pure-bloods to reign supreme.

Their ideals were different, and Grindelwald had killed pure-bloods as well.

"Grindelwald cannot give pure-bloods their rightful status. You'll be scorned by them, Edgar," Malfoy said, offering his own advice to this relative of his.

"Grindelwald is the light I pursue," the man said, lowering the brim of his hat slightly, a faint smile at the corner of his lips. "I am willing to die for him."

A man who did not fear death—why would he fear the scorn of pure-bloods?

…

Paris.

At some point, this place had become synonymous with romance.

Those who came here for holidays all hoped for a chance encounter with love.

John had his own encounter as well, though it wasn't a romantic one, but being driven along by others.

After picking up the clothes he had ordered from the tailor, John looked at the three stars on the collar and nodded in satisfaction.

"Please come again."

The shop owner personally escorted John to the door, his face full of smiles.

This customer spent generously and gave clear, precise instructions, unlike others who were vague and abstract. He was exactly the kind of client a tailor loved.

John gave a slight nod and left.

Reaching a secluded corner, he tucked the neatly packaged box of clothes into his small bag.

Heading to the hidden district, he went looking for the circus.

"The circus? They've already left," a beautiful florist owner told John.

John fell into thought, uncertain. "You mean the circus has gone on tour?"

"Yes, they've left. They'll be touring Europe for several months."

Perhaps because of John's looks, the shop owner told him this for free.

As a return, when John left the flower shop, he was holding a bouquet of daisies.

"So… I have to wait until they come back?"

Plans couldn't keep up with changes. John had originally intended to drain Credence a bit more, but the circus had already gone on tour.

It was also his own oversight. When he had sent Credence to the circus as cheap labor, he hadn't looked into their schedule.

More than anything, he had just needed a place for Credence to hide his identity.

Even he couldn't arrange everything perfectly.

As a result, Credence had unknowingly left Paris again, heading to another country.

"Fine. I might as well use this time to prepare."

John felt a bit helpless. The first thing he needed was a place to stay.

The wizarding world wasn't suitable for him to remain hidden, so he would have to find a residence in the Muggle world instead.

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