200: Neville's Special Training and Ron's Outspokenness

Saturday. 

John pulled Neville aside for a private conversation. 

They walked together out of the castle, heading past the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack. 

Neville, though no longer as timid as before, still found this unusual and asked, "John, what are we doing here?" 

John glanced around to ensure no one was nearby, then pulled a small pouch from his bag. He took out the Silent Heart and hung it on the doorknob. 

Once activated, the Silent Heart ensured that no sound from within the Shrieking Shack could escape. 

The whole setup looked suspicious. 

Neville trusted John wouldn't harm him, but he couldn't help swallowing nervously. 

Just as Neville was beginning to wonder what on earth John had planned, John tossed a wand to him. 

Then John asked, "Neville, do you want to heal your parents?" 

Neville caught the wand, looking utterly bewildered. When he processed what John had just said, he froze for a moment, then nodded forcefully. "Of course I do!" 

"Are you sure?" John stared at Neville with a very serious expression. 

Without a moment's hesitation, Neville nodded again, his face full of determination. 

Seeing Neville's resolve, John felt reassured. 

In a casual tone, John said, "Alright, starting now, I'll teach you how to use the Cruciatus Curse." 

"What..?" Neville stared at John in utter disbelief, as if he had just heard the most absurd thing imaginable. He cried out, "The Cruciatus Curse?" 

That was one of the Unforgivable Curses! Even Moody hadn't gone so far as to teach students that. 

He didn't even have the energy to wonder how John had learned it. All he could think about was how the wand in his hand now felt like a burning coal. 

If he were caught using an Unforgivable Curse, he'd be sent straight to Azkaban. 

Neville wanted to refuse, but before he could get the words out, John's face turned stern. "Don't you want to save your parents? Then you need to learn this curse!" 

The refusal caught in Neville's throat. His face turned bright red from holding back his protests. 

John didn't care about his hesitation. Better safe than sorry—he had to ensure Neville mastered the curse. 

Empathy was key to the treatment, and who better to act as the medium than Neville, the son of Frank and Alice Longbottom? 

Their blood ran in his veins, a connection that even the deepest madness couldn't sever. 

If no other method of creating empathy worked, John planned to make Neville the one to carry out the spell. 

At the same time, John wanted to see whether Neville had what it took to act as a member of the Constellation Society. 

Sometimes, achieving a goal requires doing things that go against one's nature. 

... 

October. 

John served as Neville's sparring partner for the Cruciatus Curse, but honestly, there wasn't much progress. The issue was Neville's excessively kind heart. 

It was a great quality in general, but right now, at this critical juncture, it was proving to be a major obstacle. 

So, during lunch in the Great Hall, John turned to Malfoy for advice. 

"Draco, any tips on how to make someone despise you quickly?" 

Malfoy looked up, completely baffled. "Despise me? Why are you asking me that?" 

John stared at him silently. Why you? Do you really not have any self-awareness? 

"Ahem, I honestly have no idea," Malfoy stammered, feeling oddly guilty under John's gaze. 

"Do you really not understand your own reputation? If the school held a competition for the most annoying person, you'd easily make the top three," John said meaningfully. 

"The other two spots would go to Filch and Professor Snape." 

Malfoy: "…"

Well, that hit right where it hurts. 

Fine, Malfoy had to admit he was naturally gifted in this area. 

He told John that the key was to relentlessly target someone's sore spots. Focus on their vulnerabilities and hit them where it hurts most. The more someone valued something, the more you should degrade and insult it. 

Hearing Malfoy's detailed advice was like an epiphany for John. 

He sincerely complimented, "As expected, when it comes to being despicable, no one outdoes you." 

Malfoy: "…" 

If I weren't educated, I might have thought you were complimenting me. 

With the secret to quickly becoming annoying in hand, John found himself gradually mastering the art of teaching Neville the Cruciatus Curse. 

...

Time passed swiftly. 

There was now only one week left before the arrival of the two visiting schools. 

A large group of students had gathered around a newly erected notice at the base of the marble staircase. 

"The representatives of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive at six o'clock in the evening on Friday, October 30th. Afternoon classes will end half an hour early that day." 

John noticed many students' faces light up with joy, especially the Gryffindors. 

That day happened to have a Potions class, and they weren't even trying to hide their disdain for Snape. 

Glancing at Heinrich, John smirked. "You'll get to see your schoolmates soon." 

Heinrich, looking as pale and listless as ever, lazily raised his eyes. "Just a bunch of background noise." 

John couldn't help but silently think—who talks about their schoolmates like that? 

"Karkaroff doesn't care about the rest of them," Heinrich sneered, his face full of derision. "He's an extremely self-serving man. Krum is the only one he values." 

Krum? 

"That Bulgarian Seeker from last time?" 

John glanced at Heinrich and asked, "Do you know him?" 

"Not really. Barely counts as a rival," Heinrich said arrogantly. "His fame is something Karkaroff loves. Wherever Karkaroff goes, he likes to take him along." 

John didn't press further and turned his attention to Ernie Macmillan, who was dashing off to inform Cedric. 

In John's opinion, Cedric was a strong contender to become a Champion—assuming no one cheated. 

After all, they were all part of the same society, and everyone knew each other well. 

Cedric's strength was undeniable, even Heinrich found him challenging to deal with. 

"That idiot wants to be Hogwarts' Champion too?" 

A voice interrupted John's thoughts. He paused mid-step and looked toward the source. 

Ron was pushing his way through the crowd, speaking with his usual lack of tact. 

It wasn't just John who stopped. Heinrich also halted, his icy gaze locking onto Ron. 

"He's no idiot," Hermione immediately defended Cedric upon hearing Ron's remark. "You're only upset because he beat Gryffindor in Quidditch. I've heard he's an excellent student, a prefect even, and he wears the Constellation Society badge!" 

Hermione had a good impression of Cedric; he gave off a genuinely pleasant vibe. 

"You like him just because he's handsome," Ron said sharply. 

Bringing up the Constellation Society, Ron raised his voice mockingly and said, "Even Neville has a Constellation Society badge." 

Hermione, furious, shot back, "I don't like people just because they're handsome! You shouldn't say such things!" 

She was livid that Ron would think that of her. 

Ron was about to retort with a jab about Hermione's second-year crush on Lockhart, but when he looked up, someone was blocking his path. 

"Ron, you need to learn to control that loose tongue of yours."

John said, his gaze fixed on Ron, who had once again failed to hold back his words. 

Correcting him, John continued, "Neville and Cedric are both outstanding individuals. I'm honored to have them in the Constellation Society." 

Ron's face turned bright red with embarrassment. Feeling humiliated, he muttered, "It's not even a decent group—Malfoy's in it." 

"Ron Weasley!" John's expression turned cold, his voice carrying a sharp chill as he said, "I've warned you before. Learn to control your mouth and stop insulting my friends." 

Seeing Ron get chastised, Harry stepped in and said, "John, Ron didn't mean any harm." 

"Yeah. I hope not." John replied, glancing at Harry with a calm yet firm expression. 

Heinrich's golden eyes glimmered from behind his hair as he looked at Ron. It seemed that, with just one word from John, he'd draw his wand without hesitation. 

Harry met John's calm and indifferent gaze, unwilling to back down, but under that serene and detached stare, he felt a pang of discomfort.

"John, I'm really sorry, Ron didn't mean it," Hermione said hurriedly, stepping in to shield her two friends.

Her reasoning was simple: she feared John might beat them senseless.

After all, this was the same John who, in their first year, had killed a mountain troll right in front of them.

Her two friends might have mistaken John for Malfoy.

Malfoy: "??"

Am I just easier to pick on or something?!!

John didn't say anything further. He turned and left with Heinrich.

After they were gone, Ron grumbled in dissatisfaction, "Does he really think Cedric will be the champion? If it weren't for the age restriction, it might've been me."

Then, in a fit of pique, he added, "Anyway, it's not going to be anyone from Slytherin."

"Enough, Ron!" Hermione said. Harry, who secretly agreed with Ron's sentiment, wisely chose not to voice it, especially seeing Hermione's angry expression.

_________

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