Somewhere along the vast sea of students, John had lost Hermione within the crowd.
Stuffed inside a carriage with several classmates of different years, he crossed his arms as he ignored the unfamiliars.
So instead, he passed the time looking over the lake, silently observing the rowboats travel across their first year passengers as they looked on with awe.
John didn't blame them. At first, he had a slightly similar reaction as well.
They were about to be taught magic in a bloody castle for god's sake.
The carriage rides, for obvious reasons, took a bit longer than the latter as they trekked towards Hogwarts.
It was still a stupid sounding name in his not so humbly and ever so present opinion.
Students of all years were pushed into the great hall and placed within their houses.
The rumbling over chatter overwhelmed the ears as friends and peers reunited and reacquainted.
Seeing as he didn't appear to've graced anyone's good side since last time, and the new first years currently being sorted wasn't something he was paying attention to-John was left alone with his boredom.
He took the time to examine his teachers while listening in to some of his conversing peers, placing a decent amount of effort in ignoring the presence of LockHart altogether.
"-it is disgusting how many classes we have those Gryffindor oafs this year."
They do know that Hermione could out-quiz their entire friend group, right?
"-agreed. And our latest DADA teacher is somehow a step down from the bubbling moron from our previous year. This place has become such a joke!"
For once...he actually shared half that opinion.
"-if my family ran this school instead of that madman!-then we could get a proper education!"
Madman?
Brown hues looked over the man in question.
From those always-knowing blues to the long robes that the wizarding community apparently considered fashionable.
Honestly?
He didn't see it.
With another huff at his minuscule entertainment, he searched the hall for Harry and Ron knowing that Hermione hadn't earlier.
The mage scanned the table across the room, slightly frowning as he went through dozens of students with no avail.
Where...where were they anyways?
John caught Hermione's gaze, an equally perplexed pair questioning his own.
He shrugged, for that was the only answer he had to give her.
The young witch bristled, more out of their sake than John's disappointing help.
The blond turned back to his table, unable to do much else.
Chatter came to a close when the headmaster appeared before his signature podium, waving a hand to attract the attention of many.
Dumbledore gave them a smile as warm as the candles burning next to him.
"Welcome, welcome students to yet another year of schooling. First years, myself and my colleagues formally introduce you to the place that you will live, learn, and hopefully thrive in.
Hogwarts.
Now, before you eat and are sent to your dorms, we would like to state some old and new ground rules to follow. Please accommodate by these to not only allude trouble, ensure and keep points for the house-cup, but to ensure your safety as well.
Earn enough points for your house by the year's end, and win the cup well-deserved."
In the corners of his eye he saw multiple students grin and quite literally pat themselves on the back as they remind each other of their winning streaks.
"We do realize that things have slightly varied as of last years...incident.
School ground curfews have remained in effect, be by and stay within your dorms by that time or you will receive punishments seen fit."
John grimaced.
Yeah, he might've saved the school and potentially this world, but the sheer amount of rants, multiple reprimands and verbal back lashings alone is making him second guess ever taking another step outside his door the moment the sun goes down.
"The forbidden forest, of course, is strictly off limits and those caught entering or exiting without permission or guidance may very well face expulsion.
Following last year, the third floor has, in fact, opened to walk through. But, I do advise one to tread carefully, as construction and room rearranging has not been fully completed."
John supposed that made sense...without the main attraction, The Philosopher's Stone gone, there really wasn't too much of a point to leave a ridiculously guarded floor where it was when it didn't have a whole lot to guard anymore.
"And with the...last Professor Quirrell leaving us with with an open slot-" John snorted "-I would like to welcome our newest Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor: Professor Gilderoy LockHart."
The golden haired man in question stood up when called, beaming like the sun in the middle of an April day and taking in praise and applause from his star-struck peers.
"For Merlin's sake..."
"This moron won't last a month when I'm through with him-"
"Dumbledore better make this lunatic just simply a replacement! I cannot and will not stand more than a single year of his tutoring!"
John felt slightly sick by not only the man's appearance and greeting by smiling charmingly with a wave, but because he's agreed with his fellow snakes more than once on the same night.
He shuddered and swallowed back bile.
"That being said, we do wish for this year to proceed smoothly for all. Once again, the teachers and I welcome you to journey through to Hogwarts well," he waved his hand, food appearing once more by the man. "Enjoy."
Children, travel ridden, tired, and fueled by hunger, waisted no time in follow his instructions.
John shook his head and picked through the various meats, vegetables and fruits with a fork.
That man sure has a thing for the theatrics.
John had finished eating a good few moments prior, content with nursing his goblet of pumpkin-juice for the time being.
All seemed to be at a ease, he had almost forgotten that fact that two of his associates were apparently missing when several of the teachers suddenly stood, expressions alarmed and raced out the doors.
That, of course, is when the owls starting flooding through the great hall.
They dropped their cargo seemingly at random, hitting students upon their heads, knocking over goblets and trays, and overall startling the environment.
John blinked when one Astra landed beside him, opting him to delicately grab the paper delivered to him.
Who publishes and sends out newspapers at night?
Ignoring the peers gathering at his back to observe as well, the headline striking him.
His jaw fell open slightly and his brows furrowed firmly.
FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES!
YOU ARE READING
John Constantine and The Overgrown Serpent
Fanfiction(I do NOT own John Constantine nor Harry Potter. I do NOT own most images or characters. I DO own the plot and the occasional hand drawn art) He was still here... Time flew and he was "12" now... With his new life, he didn't have anytime to himself...
