Hogwarts’ John Wick

"I must have misheard, Albus." Bathilda Bagshot assumed she had imagined it.

Dumbledore smiled kindly.

Bathilda looked at the arriving guests and said, "It’s been a long time since I’ve been somewhere this lively."

"You should get out more often," Dumbledore said. "There are many new and interesting things these days."

"Is that so?" Bathilda did not sound very interested. She had always been something of a recluse.

If not for the Weasley wedding invitation, she would not have come at all.

Suddenly, Bathilda rubbed her eyes as though they were bothering her.

"What’s wrong?" Dumbledore had just been about to offer her some dessert when he noticed her repeatedly rubbing her eyes.

"I think my eyesight is failing me, Albus." Bathilda stared in one direction and said blankly, "I feel as though I’ve seen someone familiar."

Dumbledore followed her gaze and saw John.

He said nothing and rose to walk towards Moody.

He knew John would not want anyone disturbing him right now.

"Albus, don’t you think that boy looks familiar?" Bathilda could not shake the feeling of recognition. She turned around, only to find that Dumbledore had already walked away. "Albus?"

John walked over and sat opposite Bathilda.

"Hello, child, but I think the person sitting there will be coming back," Bathilda said, still unable to remember him.

John looked at the elderly woman who had once helped him during one of the most difficult periods of his life and smiled.

"Hello. My name is John Wick."

"Wick?" Bathilda brightened inexplicably at the surname. "I knew someone with that name too. He was a good boy. His name was..."

Bathilda froze again.

No matter how hard she tried, she could not remember his name or even what he had looked like.

She asked in confusion, "What was his name?"

"Yorl."

John reached out and held the old woman’s wrinkled hand, speaking gently.

"His name was Yorl Wick."

"Yor... Yorl..."

Within Bathilda’s clouded memories, the figure of a white-haired blind boy slowly appeared.

The boy in the elderly woman’s fading memory gradually became clearer.

The boy who had accidentally turned the leaking roof of her house into a skylight.

The boy who had made her heart ache for him.

The boy who had left.

Everything slowly returned.

Warmth spread across the back of Bathilda’s hand.

She remembered.

The image of the white-haired boy gradually overlapped with the black-haired young man before her.

Bathilda murmured, "Yorl."

"I’m here," John said with a smile. "Madam."

"You said we would meet again." Bathilda looked at the unchanged young man before her with complicated emotions, then lowered her gaze to their joined hands.

One was old.

The other was still young.

Bathilda smiled.

For an elderly woman whose emotions had always been somewhat muted, she smiled with genuine happiness.

"I’m an old woman now, child."

She looked at John. "And you’re still just as young."

Reaching out, Bathilda touched John’s face.

"Your eyes are healed, but you still look like someone who makes people worry about you."

John did not mind the gesture. There was a faint tremor in his eyes as he smiled.

"I’ve grown too. You’ve grown old, Madam."

For a moment, it was as though the two of them had returned to a hundred years ago.

Bathilda, the bookish girl.

And the blind, white-haired boy.

Bathilda sighed with emotion. "It took far too long for us to meet again."

The adopted white-haired boy had changed in the blink of an eye.

It had taken only a few seconds for her memories to return.

But the wait itself had lasted a hundred years.

The old woman’s words were enough to bring tears to one’s eyes.

John said gently, "I’m very glad I was able to see you again."

"I’m just as glad."

In Bathilda’s eyes, it was as if two other boys appeared beside the white-haired youth.

Only now, those two had already become old men.

Their reunion was interrupted as Fred’s wedding began.

The laughter and cheerful atmosphere suited Fred’s magpie-like personality perfectly.

Mrs Weasley had originally planned to arrange for a band to perform and make the wedding more formal. She had even insisted that her sons dress properly.

But Fred had no interest in any of that.

He had specifically written that everyone should wear their favourite clothes, and added that they could wear whatever they liked.

So at the wedding, John saw people in wizard robes, as well as someone wearing beach shorts with pyjamas on top.

Harry did not see Mrs Weasley anywhere and asked curiously, "Where’s Mrs Weasley?"

Ron said, "Fred tricked her into the kitchen. He originally wanted to use the Full Body-Bind Curse on her and keep her at home until the wedding started."

"Why?" Harry did not understand the point.

Ron looked shocked. "You have no idea how terrifying she can be. She wanted to bring in a symphony orchestra."

Just imagining it made Ron shudder.

"That would’ve been worse than killing us."

Harry thought about it and had to admit that it sounded terrifying.

The wedding officially began.

Mr Weasley tugged at his bow tie. It was a little tight.

Mrs Weasley wore a brand-new purple robe and an ornate jewelled hat given to her by the twins.

The smiles on their faces could hardly be contained.

Fred and George still had not escaped Mrs Weasley’s clutches. Large white roses had been pinned to their buttonholes.

Bill looked somewhat gloomy at the sight, and Charlie patted his older brother on the shoulder, telling him to forget about Fleur.

But how could someone like Fleur simply be forgotten?

Golden balloons floated into the air.

Angelina walked over arm in arm with her father, Mr Johnson, along a pale purple carpet.

Once the guests were seated, Fred took Angelina’s hand from Mr Johnson.

The two looked at each other and smiled.

Ron muttered, "So he can act serious when he wants to."

The wizard officiating the wedding asked Fred, "Fred Weasley, do you take Angelina Johnson..."

After two heartfelt declarations of "I do," the wizard announced, "I now pronounce you partners for life!"

Mrs Weasley covered her face with a lace handkerchief and quietly began to cry.

Hagrid was there as well. Despite his enormous build, he had an exceptionally soft heart, and he pulled out a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and started crying too.

Ariana sat beside John, staring at the wedding without blinking.

John was somewhat moved as well. He stroked Ariana’s head and said, "One day, you’ll get married too."

Ariana blinked.

Luna, meanwhile, said seriously, "Those aren’t roses. They’re a new Weasley product, Bang-Bang Fireworks."

Her father, Mr Lovegood, was studying them just as seriously.

Just as the officiating wizard was about to announce the band’s entrance, John saw the corner of Fred’s mouth curl upward.

That expression meant he had no intention of having an ordinary wedding.

"Ladies and gentlemen..."

Whoosh!

Bang!

Fred tore off the white rose and raised it high, cheering, "Let’s celebrate!"

The white rose in his hand bloomed, transforming into a flock of white doves that flew into the air.

They popped the golden balloons overhead, turning them into enormous candy bubbles that drifted down.

Then the white wedding tent lifted into the air.

Fireworks from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes shot skyward and exploded into a riot of colours.

The band that had originally been arranged to play sentimental music tore off their outer clothes and immediately launched into something lively and cheerful.

Countless glasses descended from the sky, stacking themselves into a champagne tower as tall as Hagrid.

The corner of John’s mouth curved upward.

As expected, quiet was never their style.

Only revelry suited them.

Mrs Weasley stared in astonishment before she was quickly dragged away to dance.

Fred pulled Angelina into a strange dance, and both of them burst out laughing.

The two tails of his coat detached and transformed into a pair of lively magpies that flew throughout the wedding, weaving through every burst of laughter and cheer.

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