Hogwarts' John Wick

212: Dobby’s Work and the Crystal Ball Exploded

212: Dobby’s Work and the Crystal Ball Exploded

Hogwarts' kitchen had a hundred house-elves working at all times, so John grabbing a late-night snack was nothing out of the ordinary.

He hadn't visited much since his third year.

Tonight, on a whim, he decided to stop by.

Reaching the kitchen entrance, he skillfully scratched the pear on the fruit painting.

The pear let out a giggle and transformed into a bright green door handle.

As he stepped inside, a shrill voice immediately rang out.

"Get out, you disgraceful freak!"

John spotted an older house-elf, furious, pointing at a familiar figure.

Looking closer, he realized—wasn't that Dobby?

A whole group of house-elves glared at Dobby with hostility. Next to him stood another familiar elf.

'If I'm not mistaken, that's Winky, from the Crouch family,' John narrowed his eyes, unable to figure out why two rogue house-elves had shown up here.

The yelling continued, with an endless stream of insults pouring from the mouths of the other house-elves in the kitchen.

They called Dobby a disgrace to all house-elves, a filthy creature who tarnished their reputation by demanding payment from great wizards.

Coming from the Malfoy household, Dobby had long since grown used to this.

Dobby faced the accusations fearlessly, but Winky wasn't nearly as strong-willed.

She sobbed loudly—starting as soft whimpers, but soon escalating into full-on opera-level wailing.

The moment John stepped inside, the house-elves who had been scolding Dobby immediately lowered their voices.

"Mr. John Wick!"

Dobby let out an excited squeak and ran over, waving his tiny hands wildly. "Dobby knew it! Dobby knew he would one day meet John Wick again!"

As he rushed forward, Winky continued crying in the background.

The house-elves who had been leading the insults all made faces of disgust and stepped back, wanting nothing to do with Dobby.

"When did you get here, Dobby?" John asked.

"Today, sir! Dobby started work today! The pay is one Galleon per week, and Dobby gets one day off per month! Professor Dumbledore originally offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, but Dobby bargained him down to this!"

Dobby's face was full of lingering fear, as if taking that much money would have gotten him hit with the Cruciatus Curse.

The moment he finished speaking, the other house-elves couldn't help but hurl more insults, as if he wasn't receiving one Galleon, but a pile of dung.

Even though one Galleon wasn't much, in the house-elf world, it was an explosive amount—let alone the fact that he even had a day off each month.

This completely shattered their worldview, and the other house-elves cursed Dobby furiously, refusing to associate with him.

But since the esteemed wizard, Professor Dumbledore, had spoken, they had no choice but to accept working alongside the "abnormal" Dobby.

"Well, I didn't expect this."

John shrugged, surprised to have run into Dobby here.

Winky was still crying. To shift the focus, John asked, "How much are you getting paid, Winky?"

That only made her cry harder.

Tears gushed like a broken dam as she shrieked, "Winky was cast out, but Winky has not fallen that low!"

Alright, so Dobby really was the only house-elf of his kind.

John didn't hold much hope for house-elves gaining equal rights, but he also didn't feel like getting involved.

While looking around the kitchen, he noticed a spot that had been polished until it gleamed.

At some point, Trelawney had appeared in front of him, silencing the other students, who had been noisily fabricating their own predictions.

Her voice trembled as she softly called out, "Dear?"

John's gaze shifted away from the crystal ball, his gray-white eyes appearing eerie and mysterious.

The color slowly faded from his eyes, but an inexplicable, unbearable feeling welled up inside him.

Lavender's fearful voice quivered, "John... started making death prophecies again."

Taking a deep breath, John forced away the unsettling sensation.

A crack suddenly appeared on the crystal ball, and in the next instant, it shattered with a loud explosion.

Even Trelawney was startled, clutching her chest in shock.

The entire class felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding.

Harry and Ron, who had recently reconciled, stared at John with expressions of unease and suspicion.

Forcing a stiff smile, John turned to Trelawney and said, "Sorry, Professor, I'd like to take a leave of absence."

The class had only been in session for half an hour, yet John was already asking to leave.

Trelawney, full of concern, immediately granted his request and even awarded him 30 points for his prophecy.

Leaving the classroom, John's face remained grim.

That prophecy... gave him a terrible feeling.

Could this be about something happening around me?

Arriving at the Black Lake, John tried to calm himself.

Staring into the water, for the first time, he felt an unsettling fear deep inside.

"It'll be fine. If I equip everyone properly, everything will be fine."

John tossed a stone into the Black Lake, and it just so happened to hit a merperson who had poked their head above the surface. The merperson cursed loudly in the water.

John shot them a look.

The merperson immediately shut their mouth and fearfully dove back into the lake.

By the time John returned to the castle, news of his latest death prophecy had already spread.

This time, the message was even more direct than the one in third year.

"The warrior's choice will lead to bloodline slaughter, death will bloom in the night, and an unquenchable fire will take away a beloved one."

Ernie Macmillan swallowed nervously, his expression tense. "This is telling us that one of the champions is going to die."

Hannah Abbott gasped, covering her mouth in shock. "Which champion will die?"

"I think it's Harry Potter. I mean, you all know..." Ernie trailed off as he noticed Harry walking past.

After John started feeling better, he made his way to the Great Hall.

He spotted Malfoy deep in discussion about something, looking absolutely delighted.

John immediately walked over and doubled his training regimen.

Among all the people involved, John figured Malfoy was the most likely to run into trouble.

After all, he attracted way too much hatred—he could probably get into an accident just by walking down the hall.

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