Harry Potter: The Baba Yaga's Apprentice

by PotterSmut12

Harry lands in NYC on a "family" trip and comes upon The Continental hotel. There he meets Winston who wants to help him, which results with John Wick training Harry for what was coming.

6. The Finale

Time Skip

Another year to almost two full years of Harry's life had fortunately passed without incident. It was only until the latter half of Harry's seventh and final year that the smooth ride ground to a halt. The day was a fine normal Thursday in spring, just as the snow finished melting. This new chapter started with Harry eating a normal breakfast when a furious-looking Hedwig came flying into the Great Hall.

His favorite bird and one of his oldest friends were shaking like a leaf in the wind before she dropped a big wooden box tagged with a wax sealed letter in front of him.

It was odd Hedwig had disappeared for a full three days. Harry didn't think of anything at the time because he was busy with his school work. This was one of those times where Hedwig knew better with an intuition that someone must have been trying to get some message to him. This must have been what drew her away, and the bulky size of the package is what made the trip more prolonged than she was used to.

Hedwig retaliated in frustration by lashing out in blistering anger. It started by raising her feathered wings angrily and then by her swiping all the bacon and sausages off Harry's plate before flying off. Making it apparent that she didn't want to make that long of a trip again, and despite her flying off, Harry yelled a thank you, hoping that would smooth it over for now. If he knew Hedwig she might require more before she dropped her huffy attitude.

Looking at the wooden box in front of him, Harry opened the letter first. With his critical eye, he noticed the envelope was wax sealed using a New York Continental seal. This almost had to mean it was from either Winston or Charon. Sliding a finger under the seal, he broke it and started to read.

Dear, Harry

I can't say I was too surprised to hear the stories and recounts of your growing legend. I can confidently say it's not a surprise given who mentored you. Your victory was almost all but ensured in my book. However, congratulations is not the purpose of the letter, and you can thank me for my expert intervention at a later date.

This letter is being written because the name you are making for yourself is one that Johnathan would be proud of. He will never say it, but he is no doubt so proud you have started stepping out of his shadow to make a name for yourself. You are not a kid anymore; you are one of us, which is why I am tiptoeing around the issue we find ourselves up against.

Again, forgive me for bothering you. I am not forgetting you are at school, but I wouldn't be writing to you if the situation wasn't dire. Something has come up, something that has changed everything. I know news is hard to come by across the pond, but I have to inform you of the chain of events that led me to write this letter.

In short, Jonathan lost his wife. The same one he worked so hard to get out for. Cancer, the one silent killer that not even John could kill in retaliation.

He tried to stay retired, but I am afraid the Russian mob dragged him back in. Viggo Tarasov's son had killed Johnathan's dog all because the brat wanted to steal John's car. Big pieces started to move and move fast.

After Johnathan's initial revenge we found ourselves at this new point where I think he needs your help. Things are moving too fast, and I am afraid he is in over his head. He would be too proud to admit it, but I think he needs your help if he has any chance at surviving what is coming for him. Not only could he use the help of an assassin but help as a friend.

This is something I don't take lightly, and if you are able, I hope you can sneak away from your school to meet us in Paris. Johnathan has a duel against a representative of the High Table.

The man is a snake and will be using every underhanded tactic to avoid going against Johnathan himself. No doubt the man is going to be sending every assassin in Paris after him, and while I still like his odds because he is of course the legendary John Wick, I would feel better if he could have some backup.

Jonathan might not have a marker on you, but as a friend and mentor, trust me, he needs it. He is just too proud to ask for it. In turn Johnathan would kill me for asking you on behalf of him, but the situation we find ourselves in requires outside the box thinking. Something the High Table will never expect.

Enclosed in the box is a way to contact me as well as an upgrade to your current Glock. I am proud to say what Johnathan most likely won't. You grew into the assassin that we are all proud of. If Charon was still alive, I am sure he would share the same sentiment. My deepest condolences to you. I knew you two were friendly, but he is dead because of our choices. We want our revenge for Charon and to hopefully end this farce before the High Table goes full scorched Earth.

Winston

P.S. Your gun tastes seemed to have also followed suit with Johnathan. Enclosed is the same type of gun that capitalizes on the best parts of John's aggressive style. I know you aren't partial to snakes, but this snake has fangs. It is named the Pit Viper, so be sure to point those fangs at the enemy. Don't let the enemy bite you first.

Please travel to Paris with all the haste possible by magical travel.

Harry read the letter not once but twice, Harry did not know how things could fall apart so quickly for John. A man who Harry thought the world of. John had a dark past, but he put it all behind him for love. It was a cruel twist of fate; his wife was taken from him far too early. Easy to see why John was able to slip back into being the Baba Yaga.

To say Harry didn't like what he read in this letter was an understatement. His relationship with John was special because John helped him out when he needed it the most. It meant Harry was instantly compelled to do the same. Harry was not going to let his mentor and friend die at the hands of the High Table of all people. Those people were politicians and gang leaders, all examples of people without honor.

Putting himself in John's place reminded Harry of his own fight against Dumbledore and the Ministry. Harry might not have had all the details, but Harry knew John and his mentor would never be in the wrong. John lived his life with honor while also changing everything about himself to leave the assassin's life behind. Something must have changed; a massive injustice must have taken place to push John into this fight. It must have been such a grave offense to get John to step back into his old shoes.

Hermione happened to be sitting across from Harry when she felt her friend's emotions and attitude flip. Harry's whole demeanor changed. Harry flipped from a somewhat happy new normal Harry Potter to the super serious monster slayer she witnessed during the fifth-year Ministry bloodbath. These small changes in Harry were something Hermione was able to read a lot better after the last few years.

This sudden mood change skipped a lot of steps because it looked like Harry was getting ready to face down Voldemort all over again. When he was like this, the look in his stone cold green eyes scared her. It scared her because she knew what Harry was capable of when he switched like this. Heaven help whoever was in his way. "Harry, what's wrong? Tell me what's wrong."

Harry didn't answer but passed her Winston's letter while he opened the wooden box with a click. The same one Hedwig dropped off almost onto his breakfast plate. It was heavy to the point Hedwig almost killed herself flying over from who knows where. Opening the box, he was greeted with a familiar shape in the center. It was a beautiful gun; so much so it almost looked like an art piece.

The jet black Pit Viper looked superior when compared to his Glock, and the thing no doubt performed better to replace something so reliable. If this was what John was running in his kit, then Harry would be happy to use the same gun. John wasn't an idiot, so this had to be the best gun on the market to make its way into his holster.

However, seeing a new gun like this was almost bittersweet. The gift was a kind gesture, but he knew that in this world, a gift like this came with responsibility. The responsibility of doing something bigger than anything he has ever done before. Going against the High Table was possibly worse for his health than going after Voldemort. 'Stop being scared, I need to remember if I can kill Voldemort then I can kill anyone. I am not going in alone. If I am standing shoulder to shoulder next to John, then no one in our way stands a chance.'

Hermione read the letter twice, but it was cryptic. There were codes and ways of speaking that felt alien to her, like the term marker. Some of this letter made zero sense unless you knew the terminology and what you were up against.

Sadly for Hermione, Harry did not have any books that had the history or in-depth explanations about this secret underground world he was a member of. "What does this mean?" Being a genius didn't mean she could automatically translate all these hidden meanings and subtle nods to a world she didn't know.

Harry took the gun out of the box and saw it was empty. Checking it again by pulling the slide to visually confirm there was not a bullet in the chamber, he pulled the trigger to double check the tolerances. He found the trigger pull to be ultra light, at maybe two pounds at the most. With a simple check, Harry loaded a mag in, hitting the slide release; it was now loaded with a full mag of 9mm. Pulling the slide, he checked, and like he expected, it had one bullet fully seated in the chamber. He was also checking the resistance on the slide to get a gauge for how it would run before he had to use it in the field. Feeling the weight, Harry liked it a lot, from the ease of use to the grip of the gun in his hands. "This will do nicely."

Jumping out of his seat at breakfast, Harry reached into his robes to replace his trusty Glock with the more expensive gun. The Pit Viper went to his right hip holster while his Glock went to the back of the left side of his waist, held up by his belt. In this situation, it wouldn't hurt to have a spare.

Harry didn't have any clue what this snake named gun was capable of, but he trusted John and Winston more than the gun. Though it did feel much more high-class and capable than he was used to. All guns were tools, but some tools were not created equal.

Meanwhile, out loud, he was already preparing how to answer Hermione at the same time as his mind was preparing for a war against the High Table. "The letter means I have to go. I have to go to Paris because something has come up with someone I-."

Harry caught himself before adding the true weight of the letter. "I meant to say that something came up with someone that everyone here owes a debt to. That letter means I have to drop everything if there is a chance I can help him because he is the only reason I was able to kill Voldemort. John will forever have my undying loyalty, the same loyalty I have for you. Trust me if you were in this kind of trouble, I would drop everything to help you. This is no different. John needs me; he needs me to be who he trained me to be. To him this threat is an equivalent to Voldemort, so like a loyal friend, I will be at his side when he needs me."

The sound of the oiled metal on metal smooth gliding of the slide against the lower of the gun perked a lot of people up. His whole house table stopped eating and were now silent; they were almost scared to see what Harry was up to knowing that these metal contraptions were meant only for killing. For most students, the only time they saw a gun was when it was in the paper and Harry used it to kill dangerous threats like Voldemort.

Seeing Harry with a gun in his hands even gave a lot of Slytherins worry. Draco might be gone, but they knew that there was no stopping Harry, who had only gotten more dangerous in Defense Against the Dark Arts and fighting in general. Harry's wand skills improved past a student's skills and into the realm of an Auror. That plus his guns made him the scariest and deadliest person in the school, Dumbledore included.

There was speculation of Potter snapping one of these days. How could someone with his skills and mindset not snap when the time he snapped at the Ministry he single-handedly slaughtered almost a dozen people?

The observer who had the most feathers to ruffle was Dumbledore, who stood up to reprimand Harry. "Mr. Potter, you better stop playing with those dangerous items at once. I told you they are not allowed or to be seen. If you continue to disobey my rules, then you will be forced to forfeit them, followed by a month of detention."

Ignoring any threat Dumbledore made was second nature to Harry at this point. Taking the steps he needed to, Harry quickly realized he wasn't dressed in his bulletproof assassin suit. He was unfortunately in his old regular suits, covered by a wizard's robe. Because bullets weren't a threat inside Hogwarts, he didn't see the point in wearing the more protective suit. Said new bulletproof suits were a new addition to his wardrobe during his last summer break. It meant Harry would have to change before he rushed off to fly to Paris on his Firebolt.

With a shrug of his shoulders, the baggy and roomy wizard's robe fell to the ground, discarded like trash. It was comfortable but not tactical, which is what Harry preferred when he was "working". While Harry didn't mind ties, he didn't like the red and gold one he was wearing. It was a bright target, if there ever was one. If Harry had to wear a tie, it needed to be black and it needed to be soft.

Removing his Gryffindor red tie, Harry threw it down to join the robe on the floor. "Something more important has come up, Dumbledore. To me, it's a million times more important than school because someone I care about needs my help. Unlike you, I am not someone who is going to sit back and do nothing. This goes beyond mixing potions and looking at star signs. So count this as me giving you my immediate notice that I will be leaving the school, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. I am technically an adult now, so there is no stopping me from doing what I see fit. Now before you go running to Sirius, don't waste your breath because he understands there are rules to this life, not to mention my permanent saving people thing."

While it wasn't planned, Harry always prepared for a possible escape. A trick slash valuable lesson John had drilled into him because you never knew when you could use a quick escape plan. In other words, Harry was smart to have a spare suit, and his other guns shrunk in his school bag already. Just in case of an emergency like this.

Dumbledore didn't accept terms being dictated to him: "You will not be going anywhere. I don't care the reason you are here; you are to follow my rules and do as commanded." The old man hated backing down when challenged, especially by someone as powerful and almost untouchable as Harry. His faux righteous anger had not faded even after the multiple times Minister Amelia Bones shot down any idea to bring Harry to heel.

Harry sighed and glared at this old man, who didn't understand that Harry wasn't a usual student. Not that he ever was, which should have afforded him some leeway seeing as he saved this school multiple times. Still, Harry took offense to Dumbledore, thinking once again he was the one in charge of Harry's life.

It was an evident sticking point for Harry since the end of fifth year, when he pulled off the impossible. Harry wouldn't be controlled any longer. All because he had been set up for failure and death under Dumbledore's nose for years. It was so unlucky for Dumbledore that Harry's encounter in the graveyard changed him forever, which was a big reason why Harry was who he was now.

Very calmly, Harry moved to face Dumbledore, ready for a possible duel, which he had been training for just in case they ever disagreed like this again. "Yes, I will be leaving. I am because I can go wherever the hell I bloody want. There is not anything you can do to stop me if you wanted to. This is not a joke or me trying to prove some grand point. I am leaving because someone I care about is in trouble. If you try to prevent me from helping them, then you are declaring war on me. Is that what you want?"

Harry was not being hyperbolic; John was his most important person next to his friends and Sirius. There was nothing going to stop Harry from helping his mentor in a time of need. Harry started in on Dumbledore again with a harsher tone to his voice, "I hope you aren't so old and senile to have forgotten what happened to the last person to declare war on me. Think about what I did to Voldemort before you try to stand in my way because if I have to, I have no problem stepping over your dead body to go help John."

Harry's threat was very real because Harry no longer held any attachment for Dumbledore, and to him, the Headmaster might as well be an enemy in the same vein as Voldemort.

It suddenly clicked now that Dumbledore knew the whole change in atmosphere was all because of John Wick. The person Harry credited with the reason he was the way he was today.

However, John Wick was a subject that scared the Headmaster because, with the little research he was able to do into the legend of John Wick, it was beyond terrifying. The man was known to leave a bloody path in his wake with very few to no survivors. The ones who did survive only spoke about him in hushed tones, as if this man could jump out of the shadows at any moment. Almost in a similar way to the way people talked about Voldemort at the height of his power.

This elusive but legendary man is where Harry learned everything else besides magic as well as how to kill without remorse. This man was the epitome of danger and had turned Harry into a cold-blooded killer.

Dumbledore had been so offended by the man he tried to float the idea to everyone who would listen to take the man out of the equation. The idea of a covert contract killing of the man came to Dumbledore as an idea to try and cut off his influence on Harry. The way Harry modeled himself off this John Wick was dangerous to the wizarding world. Though it turns out John Wick was the kind of man who was truly thought to be untouchable.

When Dumbledore had soft pitched the idea with inquiries backed by a million in gold. Even with that fat contract, no one was willing to make a move against John Wick. Some even laughed in his face for suggesting such a thing. The man was a mythic figure with muggle killers and criminals alike. Though that offer was at the end of Harry's fifth year, now it was Harry's seventh year, and things might have finally changed in Dumbledore's favor.

The thought of John dying was appealing to Dumbledore, but it was now drawing in Harry, which could be good or bad. Dumbledore would get some of his power back if Harry was to leave the picture. If John were to die, then maybe Harry would be more open to his help.

Everything was rapidly changing, but Dumbledore still visibly flinched at being reminded of Harry's brutality. Harry's voice was harsh and resolute in his conviction.

For Harry, his response triggered the response he wanted because now he could break Dumbledore's perceived control over him. It was so easy; Harry didn't even have to draw his gun, which was the new black 9mm Pit Viper. His pistol was out in the open nestled in his hip holster but ready to be pulled at any moment. Unfortunately for Dumbledore, Harry was no longer opposed to deadly violence. Even to someone like Dumbledore in the public setting of the Great Hall during breakfast. Harry was not afraid to get his hands bloody at a moment's notice.

With his hand inching closer to the newly holstered Pit Viper pistol on his hip, it was in clear view, ready for a possible quick draw. Harry made the threat clear because Dumbledore needed to know that Harry held all of the power here. "There it is." Harry said, smirking seeing Dumbledore stop moving out of fear. It was the smartest move the Headmaster could have made because Harry felt like he was wasting time with John's life hanging in the balance. Being on a clock like that would force Harry to wrap this up in a timely but possibly lethal manner.

Harry didn't back down as he continued to say his peace, "I am happy to see you remember who you are dealing with, Dumbledore. As I said a minute ago, I am leaving. Take that fact as a strong possibility I will not be coming back to Hogwarts. I already passed all the standard tests, so there is no point in me rushing back here. To everyone listening, I am needed by someone you should all be eternally grateful for. I have been called upon to help a friend. I will be helping a man who is the only reason I was able to kill Voldemort in the first place. I have to do this alone so don't try to get in my way." Harry was suddenly speaking to the whole Great Hall. The place had gone quiet listening to Harry and watching him shed his persona of a normal schoolboy.

The last part of Harry's speech was for his friends who had to stay here, where they were safe. None of his friends were close to being prepared to be dropped in the middle of a conflict with the High Table and John Wick.

In a plain white button-up shirt, armed with a muggle gun, Harry looked ready to fight another damned war. He looked reminiscent of the way he was the night of the Ministry with the same cold-blooded killer look coming over his features. Though this time it was a new war Harry found himself in, one where his friends couldn't follow.

Not that his friends could possibly know the danger. For instance, Neville was the first of his friends to stand up. He moved to stand, feeling compelled to pay Harry back the debt he felt like he still owed for Harry killing Bellatrix. Neville's new-found bravery and confidence made him think he was more than ready to run into the fight for Harry. To say he was mistaken was a vast understatement.

Harry pushed Neville's shoulder down to sit back down at their house table. "Sorry, Neville, but you are out of your element. You need a different set of skills to go where I am going. I appreciate the offer, you guys, but just take care of everything here. It's up to you, Ron, and Hermione to protect everyone now. I don't know when or if I will even come back, but please know I have to do this. If I don't come back, I want you to know that I love you all."

It was sad what some could have considered to be a final goodbye, but Harry had no choice. No one could do anything to stop Harry from making this choice. Harry's friends regrettably stood no chance of doing anything if they hopped over to the world of assassins.

Magic wasn't enough against assassins who could shoot through shields. These assassins could also close the distance and kill you with their bare hands just as easily. Which was the only thing Harry worried about, which was why he needed to stay at range because his hand-to-hand combat skills were almost laughable compared to John's. Bullets and spells are where he would shine when he joined the fight.

By now almost everyone with an ear to the ground in the assassin world knew he was the Baba Yaga's student and also knew he had some sort of magic. Word had spread from the few people who knew that magic was real. It only added to his legend in tandem with the kind of impossible jobs Harry was known to pull off. Now he would be using it against the High Table because they picked a fight with him when they decided to kill Charon and go after his mentor.

Throwing his school bag over his shoulder, Harry turned to walk out of the Great Hall for the last time. Taking a moment to think about this moment, he reflected on the first time he walked in here and the magic he felt being introduced to a whole new world. From the ceiling, which reflected the outside, to the first time he saw ghosts. He had a few good memories he could hold onto in what could be his final few hours.

Suddenly it felt like he was closing this chapter of his life to fully join the assassin world by fighting and killing anyone who would dare raise a gun against John. 'Focus, Harry. We are in the big game now. This is for John. I hope for John's sake he didn't lose a step too many. I hope he can survive long enough for me to reach him.'

Running to the dorms with a change of clothes and a bag over his shoulder filled with some supplies like his invisibility cloak. Harry had to leave his trunk empty of his assassin essentials for Ron to return to him if he managed to survive this new battle Harry found himself in.

Once Harry was done with as much prep as he could manage, Harry mounted his Firebolt. Dressed in a bulletproof suit and with a belt of seven mags of twenty-one capacity (9 mm), Harry was ready for a battle.

Feeling good, Harry was soon in the air with the fast wind whipping at his face as he rode his Firebolt to the limit. He hit the top speed like John would in a car or motorcycle. The blistering speed made the ride to Paris a shorter trip than normal, but it still felt like a long one all at the same time. It felt like it was taking forever because he was booking it to reach John in time. If the High Table was after John, then every second had to count.

It was only when Harry reached Paris after a many hours of windy flight that Harry stopped on his broom hovering above the city. Taking a hand off his broom, he pulled his assassin's flip phone. Calling Winston Harry waited as the phone rang. "Come on, pick up."

The phone answered during the fifth ring, "Harry, I trust you made it because I know your school is not currently near any cell towers. Did you know it is almost impossible to reach you? Lucky for me, that bird of yours happened to show up just when I was getting desperate."

Harry rolled his eyes at Hedwig being the best bird while also being a sassy drama queen after she dropped off the package. "Where are you?" Harry asked, wanting to join the fight as soon as possible. He was itching for a fight the whole ride here as his anger at the situation grew.

Winston made a noise of forgetfulness, "Ah, I and the others are waiting at the Sacré Coeur de Montmartre."

Harry looked around and couldn't say he recognized anything beyond the Eiffel Tower. "I do not know where or what that is."

Winston did his best to explain the location as seen from above but also recommended Harry follow the sound of gunshots and general mayhem. If the High Table was sending assassins after John, then it was safe to assume the noise would be loud.

After snapping the phone shut, ending the call, Harry pocketed the phone. Doing a quick lap around the city under an invisibility cloak so no muggle saw him floating in the sky, he soon heard many gunshots in the streets. It was odd that muggles seemed to accept the assassins running around their streets, but learning about magic would be too much for them to handle.

The Stairs

John had just made it up the famously long staircase with minutes to spare on his way to the Sacré Coeur de Montmartre. It was only when he reached the top that he was hit with a chest kick from the strong arm of the Marquis de Gramont. The kick was hard enough to launch John off his feet as he was forced to then roll down a lot of hard stone steps.

Harry saw the kick, and as much as he wanted to just kill every one of these gray suits wearing assholes with an explosive spell, he held back. With the cover of night and from the safety of his broom, instead Harry chose to fly down to the bottom of the steps where John had landed. Harry felt the compulsion to see if John was okay after that devastating fall.

It honestly would have been a cheap and dirty move to attack from the sky where his enemies weren't expecting it. No, Harry wanted to kill these High Table goons up close and personal. They made this personal with him, so he wanted them to know who was going to take their lives by looking him in the eyes.

Shucking off his invisibility cloak before stuffing it in his bag, Harry revealed himself to everyone. Harry's sudden presence was a surprise, and it was not welcome because people who knew John Wick were very aware of his apprentice. A magic-wielding, killing prodigy of an apprentice at that. If that was not enough, Harry's rage was palpable even to the henchmen standing at the top of the stairs.

Shrinking his broom to fit in his over-the-shoulder bookbag, Harry readied himself for this new fight. Harry had his pistol, but if he needed it, he could unshrink his shotgun or unleash nightmare prank creations courtesy of the Weasley twins from his bag.

"You okay, John?" Harry asked, checking to see if John sustained any serious head injury from the fall.

John gave the best but short response to being kicked down a hundred stairs. "Yeah. You?" Surprised with the turn of events, John hadn't expected Harry of all people to show up. If it was up to him, he would not have dragged Harry into his mess. This move had Winston written all over it.

John still saw Harry as a young kid, but looking at Harry now, he saw a real assassin and not just a kid being forced to learn the trade to survive. Harry was different, and it was the type of difference you could see in the eyes. Harry has the same serious eyes John recognized when he looked in a mirror. The ones that came with intense loss and the edge of a cold-blooded killer. That said, Harry was still the last person John expected to show up out of the blue with no warning.

Harry smiled a genuine smile as he extended a hand to help his mentor up while shooting back with, "Yeah, I am okay, thanks to you." It was spoken in a way that was code telling John he was here to repay the favor. A favor that didn't require a marker because their bond of friendship went beyond the need for a silly trinket.

This time it was Harry who was in the rare situation with John to not be the one on his back. There were a lot of times when Harry looked back at their training, where John stood above him, trying to teach him many hard-earned lessons.

The pair hadn't seen each other or had contact in years, but being back together felt natural. Their lack of contact was most likely because John had not traveled to London after he was supposed to be out of the assassin game. Though there was always an offer from Harry that John always had a safe haven if he ever needed it. John probably should have taken it before killing Gianna D'Antonio which put everything leading up to this into motion.

John just wanted to be left alone to grieve and to live a normal life in the suburbs of New York. That was the reason he didn't visit Harry but John would be lying if he said that was the only reason. Truth was he had opportunities to visit Harry since being pulled back into the fray, it was almost as if John avoided London in the hopes of keeping his headstrong and emphatically loyal student out of his mess.

John had correctly guessed that if Harry knew what he was up against, his student would have dropped everything to help. Harry's loyalty was unbreakably strong, which could have been seen as a deficit because this wasn't his world. Harry's lack of training left him outclassed in many respects compared to Sofia, Zero, or Caine. Still, Harry's heart and magic might make up for some of that. The odds were definitely stacked against them, but there were only a few others John would rather fight and possibly die alongside.

John was one of the lucky very few who ever found a way out, but even fewer had been violently pulled back into this life. The only silver lining about getting pulled back in was hearing about Harry growing his upstanding reputation.

It seemed as if Harry was unable to stop himself from diving deeper into this world. The upside for Harry was he was smart and was a total freelancer with no gang or crime family pulling his strings. It made sense in a way with Harry being considered an outcast in the magical world. It had left a hole that could only be filled when he joined John's world, which preyed on that feeling of loneliness.

John was not blind enough to not see Harry's point because the adrenaline-pumping jobs were addicting in your youth. Though it came with a clock before your mind and body started to break down as it did for John. All of those factors led to John having to ask, "Are you sure about this?" John had not wanted to possibly end Harry's long life before it could truly begin; the boy was still supposed to be in school for fucks sake.

It was a deep philosophical question for Harry because if he helped John, then Harry was making an enemy of the High Table. The only answer to that question caused Harry to smile and nod. "Yeah, I am sure; is it even a question you have to ask? You didn't leave me to die before I had my revenge; why wouldn't I do the same for you? If the High Table wants to come after my friends, then they have to go through me first."

This show of loyalty helped John get up off his back. It was at that tender moment that Caine chose to appear out of the shadows. The tapping of his cane gave him away because the man could be as quiet as a ghost if he chose to. While it was for a selfish reason, Caine had a vested interest in John to making it to the church. Winning this duel is how he got his daughter back, meaning he was willing to help the enemy for now.

Harry didn't know a thing about this blind man with a cane, making Harry almost pull on him. "Who the bloody hell are you?" Harry had his suit jacket moved back for easy access to his new Pit Viper pistol he was itching to let loose.

John put his hand on his student's arm while slightly putting himself between the two. John tried to keep Harry out of Caine's sword range. "His name is Caine; I need him. Like you, he too is an old friend…I would also recommend you keep your distance." Said with all seriousness, John tried to silently tell Harry to stay out of Caine's fighting range. Blind or not Caine was still one of the best for a reason.

Caine tilted his head in confusion because he didn't know who this other person was, but John seemed to show a high level of respect for him. John had expressed genuine worry, as if this newcomer was in more danger than he realized. "I might not be able to see, but even a blind man knows time is ticking away."

John looked at his watch on the inside of his wrist before he turned up to look at the many steps leading to salvation. "Two, maybe three minutes to reach the church." Looking up the stairs at the men waiting to stop them John pulled his gun from his holster and said, "Let's do this."

Harry gripped and drew his new Pit Viper pistol tightly, ready to unleash a bullet storm of hell. "You read my mind."

What followed was three deadly assassins ascending the stone steps leading to the church doing a dance of death. All three legendary assassins were cutting or shooting their way through every single no-name assassin. All of the stair-descending assassins had glory and money signs in their eyes, chasing a would-be big payday. The sad part was that it would soon land them in an early grave. Because none of these faceless bullet sponges could stop these three godlike assassins from ascending up these stairs.

With Caine on the left side of the stairs Harry was on the other side of the railing with John's. With the teacher and student working together it boggles the mind these henchmen were still willing to get within range of John and Harry. When they closed the distance John and Harry both grappled the men to the ground before putting bullets into their unprotected heads.

Harry still didn't know as much as John when it came to judo or jujitsu, but he knew enough to keep up. Sometimes all Harry needed was a second of a hold before John would help by putting a bullet through the restrained man's head.

Another big help seemed to be that the grunts were almost taking it easy on him as they tried to make their move on John. The high price contract on John was the clear motivator for these people who almost looked past Harry for John. It proved to be a fatal mistake to split focus because Harry was just as deadly. Sometimes more so when he uses his wand to freeze his enemies with a Petrificus Totalus.

John had seen Harry's magic before, but seeing an enemy get frozen still like a statue was new. It also meant it was easy to follow it up with a bullet to the head before said enemies dropped to the ground like a bag of potatoes.

Harry wasn't getting tired, but there were a lot of grunts to kill, even with three people. As bullets flew, he noticed John was about to disassemble his gun to use it as a weapon out of desperation. "John, catch."

Harry grabbed a full mag from his belt and threw it to his mentor, who immediately put it to good use. Snatching it out of the air with his left hand, John flicked out his empty mag to load in the new one.

Harry still had two full mags, but John and this mysterious Caine were doing the heavy lifting. With a small break Harry was able to swap hands and use his wand as his main weapon. Still armed with the Pit Viper in his left hand, Harry started to use his wand in his right.

Since the last time he saw John, Harry had improved his magical ability mightily. Using his new dueling skills, he could weave it in and out of his fighting style, which also includes guns. Harry's gun usage rate in the Ministry was more than ninety percent but now it was closer to fifty fifty in this new life-or-death situation.

With the addition of silent casting, Harry was even able to have fun with it by levitating some of these bad guys and throwing them down the steps. It was almost done out of petty revenge for seeing them do it to John. The only difference was Harry put more force into the spell so you could hear their bones break in addition to their skulls crunching off the stone steps. Poor muggles had no defense against magic, which was why Winston messaged him to join John in this fight.

During the mayhem, John felt honored and grateful Harry showed up when he did because it had definitely changed the momentum of this battle. It felt nostalgic having Caine by his side feeling like old times, but having Harry with him gave him literal magic on his side. It also gave him a feeling of pride fighting side by side with his student. So it was no longer a question he was going to make it to his duel on time.

The only obstacle left in his way was the lieutenant to the Marquis de Gramont. The big hulking man who had anger and the promise of death in his eyes. The man was highly skilled but also a committed zealot when it came to serving the High Table.

The showdown between John and the bigger man had Harry lose concentration for a moment where his shield broke and a bullet hit him in the torso. Not used to such pain, it staggered him for a moment. Luckily he was protected by his bulletproof suit, but the truth was, it still hurt. Thankfully, there was no penetration showing the new level of craftsmanship and innovation when it came to body armor technology.

Trying to not be distracted, Harry found it hard with these idiotic low-level assassin grunts who didn't have the skill to finish their enemies. Said grunts were all unable to connect with a headshot, which was the only thing that could have saved their lives. Harry had learned a lot from John, and one thing was to kill anyone in your way, so he kept his aim true and kept putting bullets and spells on target.

Harry wasn't used to taking bullets, so where the bullets impacted, it was quite painful. The blunt force from bullets hurt far more than his uncle's belt, but no amount of pain would stop Harry from completing his mission of helping John. It helped the adrenaline was killing most of the pain for now, while Harry smartly trailed behind John, following his lead. When he was shot with the last round of bullets, Harry cast the devastating severing spell Diffindo, which decapitated the man who was almost able to get past his defenses.

With a quick tactical reload nothing stopped Harry from advancing and shooting his own bullets through the head at anyone else wearing their own slick formal body armor.

Harry's accuracy had only improved by leaps and bounds over time because when he couldn't shoot his guns, he used his wand to practice precision point and shoot aiming.

When his enemies were taken care of, Harry had to quickly look around and take everything else into account. While he was now safe, John was not the big guy; Marquis number two currently had the advantage. The man was still on his feet and had the high ground while John was on his back.

Before Harry could raise his gun or wand, when the big dumb brute was ready to strike a fatal blow on John, a large caliber bullet came out of nowhere, putting the big henchman on the back foot. The loud, high-caliber gunshot sent the gun in the henchmen's hand clattering to the ground, bouncing away out of reach.

With an opening, John got up and checked his watch. There was less than a minute left before his time ran out. With a nod at Harry, John proceeded to move away from his downed opponent.

Harry was ready to finish the job, but the newcomer walked up first with his rifle. The hate in the man's eyes let Harry know this was personal. With no enemies left, Harry holstered his wand and gun and left the kill for the Tracker.

The high-ranking assassin employed by the High Table was on the ground, struggling to try and get to his feet. The fight didn't last long before the Tracker put a high-caliber rifle round through the head of this asshole, who clearly wronged him. To top it off, the Tracker's dog began using the man's face as if it were a fire hydrant. It was one of the oddly most humorous things Harry had seen while working as an assassin.

With a deep breath of relief at the preposterousness of the situation. Taking his leave from the Tracker he gave the man a smirk and a nod before running to catch up to John and Caine walking up the steps.

The few minutes of this gunfight were more exciting and exhausting than Harry was used to. Having just come from a boring day at school nothing could have prepared him for this. Harry then reloaded his own Pit Viper pistol with his last full mag on the way to the church. Harry wasn't letting his guard down for anything. Harry's usual jobs rarely ever got this loud and flashy. Harry was trained to be a ghost, but this was a different kind of fight, similar to the night at The Ministry. Harry felt the same fast and thundering pump of his heart building to this final fight.

In his head, Harry was giving more credit to John for training him as much as he could in three months, which was just enough to keep him breathing. From that starting point, Harry kept building his skills enough to be able to keep up with his mentor during this pivotal moment.

At the same time, John had watched Harry close with a critical eye as a proud teacher and as a friend. There weren't any words that needed to be said. Everything was said in action, in this case Harry came running; actually it was more like flying on a broom of all things. John would likely have done the same thing minus the broom if Harry ever needed him. Though John was more of a motorcycle or muscle car guy.

With a slight smile, John looked to Harry and said, "You have improved. Your shooting is still spectacular; tight groupings, no hesitation. The fact you are keeping up with Caine and I is no small feat."

Harry smiled, getting validation from the person he desired it from the most. "I have done a few jobs since we last parted ways. My legendary reputation as your student gets me a lot of work to help keep me sharp." Harry said with pride.

John gave a nod as they resumed trekking up the final few stairs. Not able to resist, John put his hand on Harry's shoulder but seeing as time was pressing he couldn't say everything he wanted to say to his student. John and Caine had somewhere important to be.

Harry was at John's side as they all walked to the church just as the sun was starting to rise. Caine was also there, but Harry only cared about John and the fact they were walking into a bad scenario. The climb up all these steps was extra tiring after all the energy they spent trying to stay alive while climbing all the other stairs. It was a wonder John could make the trip essentially twice after being kicked down the first time.

Against all odds, the trio of assassins had reached the church within a few seconds to spare. The sun was only just peeking over the horizon where Winston and others were waiting for them.

This might be the finish line, but Harry didn't feel like they won just yet. The visible tension meant he couldn't let his guard down. In the moment and in this situation it made Harry visibly seethe when he laid eyes on these High Table puppets.

They all had the air of trying to act honorable, but in Harry's book they were in actuality acting on behalf of fearful cowards. The High Table was only afraid of John because they couldn't control him. John was a good, honorable man, which the table didn't like because they preferred to act unscrupulously in the pursuit of money and power.

The High Table were obviously upset they had lost any leverage they had on John. That was the result of an honorable man who had everything cruelly taken away and, at the same time, being pushed past his limits as a reasonable man. Harry could relate because he refused to bend to his own magical government or powerful figures of authority like Dumbledore. Harry was driven by the need to do what was right, which was why he and John got along. Two people cut from the same cloth, so to speak.

Those same pseudo-scare tactics were used by people in power trying to put pressure on Harry's friends, trying to make them flip on him. Sirius and many classmates received offers and coercion tactics used on them as a way to try to gain control of Harry. Everyone, including Dumbledore and the Ministry, soon found out that Harry was willing to take his aggression further than they could ever imagine. A crucial lesson Fudge and, by extension, the Ministry had learned in record time.

It should be considered a free lesson for people to learn to swallow their pride and let Harry and John be themselves. They didn't want trouble unless they were pushed. More proof they were more valuable as allies and assets than as enemies.

Back in the present The Marquis had narrowed his eyes seeing someone new, an enigmatic, sharply dressed teenager standing shoulder to shoulder with John Wick. A true wildcard because this newcomer wasn't in any of his research. The boy clearly styled himself after John Wick, and as far as he knew, John had no children.

This mysterious teenager was someone he had never seen before. "It seems as if you found some new friends, as if that will save you. Did you forget, you will be fighting alone? For your crimes against the High Table, you only bring friends that will be watching you die. You cannot win this time, Mr. Wick."

Harry let his eyes pass the older gentleman, thinking he was in charge. Instead, his eyes now focused on this smarmy Frenchman, who reminded him more than a little of Draco Malfoy. That alone was a mark against the man. The second mark against him was because Harry felt fury by this man's casual disrespect of his mentor, the legendary Baba Yaga. It honestly felt foolish for someone in a high-level position in this world to badmouth someone like John Wick. Assassins at a high level had honor, and this disrespect spoke volumes of the kind of person John was dealing with.

The Harbinger immediately noticed Harry, striking him like lightning who the dark-haired teen was. Someone didn't rise as fast as Harry Potter did without the High Table taking notice.

The Harbinger also happened to have a connection to the magical world, so he knew the whole story of the end of Voldemort not once but twice. Harry Potter had slayed the dark wizard as a baby and yet again a few years ago, thus proving the first time wasn't a fluke. This young wizard was more than lucky; he was as dangerous. Harry Potter was as dangerous as they come and just as deadly.

The Harbinger had heard the rumors and second-hand recounts of the big blowout fight at the Ministry. It was described as a bloodbath type of slaughter; he thought the stories were overrated until the boy was standing next to John Wick as a respected equal. That told The Harbinger all he needed to know.

The stories had to be true because if anyone could single-handedly slaughter a platoon of lethal dark wizards, it would be John Wick or someone trained by him.

It was the missing puzzle piece slotting into place as to how a young wizard made this seamless jump into the world of assassins. Harry Potter had John Wick as his mentor and teacher. "Be careful, sir; that is a wizard and one who isn't to be trifled with. Wizards have abilities that make them unpredictable yet slow to change at the same time. Rarely do they have the creativity or the stones to use magic beyond the three basic unforgivables. I have killed a few in my day, many decades ago. By far and away, they were some of my most stubborn kills."

Harry's eyes shot back to the older, sharply dressed man, removing his glare from the smarmy Frenchman. "You have never met a wizard like me before? A lot of scarier people than you have tried to kill me, and I promise you I will always be the last one standing." Harry's right hand was resting on his pistol, currently holstered on his hip, while his left hand drew his wand to show the man he wasn't afraid to use magic if bullets weren't enough.

No doubt the man was wearing something bulletproof, which took the fun out of the gunplay aspect of being an assassin. At the same time, Harry was feeling the bruises starting to form all over from the bullets he took to the suit when his Protego shield had been shattered. Though it didn't mean Harry still wasn't ready for a fight.

In the last two years, Harry mastered how to fight with magic and guns simultaneously. It took a long minute to learn how to cast with his left hand while shooting with his right or vice versa. Hours and hours of practice later, he had drilled it into his brain until dual-wielding guns with a wand was second nature.

Much like John, it didn't matter who was in front of him; Harry knew that if he wanted to, he felt like he could kill absolutely anyone. These High Table puppets were no different. "If you know about me and my story, then you should know what I did to the last person who thought it was a good idea to come after me and the people I care about. Voldemort was much scarier than any of you could ever dream of, and I killed him with ease."

The Marquis didn't like being talked back to, but the stone-faced apprehension from The Harbinger was speaking volumes. The Marquis had to take a long, silent second to refocus on the person they were here to see. The guest of honor was John Wick, and should this boy interfere, then, as Marquis, he would make an example of him as well when this was over.

The Harbinger gave a small nod, almost out of respect. "I try to know everything. That includes threats like you, who seemed to keep doing the impossible from a very young age. It goes to reason that most of that doesn't happen unless you have help; nobody is that lucky, but not even I expected Mr. Wick to be your benefactor. The only rational explanation of who could train you to kill so effectively in our ways. This choice had to have been made easily because those who know your story know you were set up to fail your whole life. From what I gleaned, Voldemort was untouchable until you came along. Remember the High Table knows all, including what goes on in your world when it could be a threat to the High Table."

Harry scoffed in pure disrespect, "Then you should know when Voldemort came back there was no stopping him. Without me, the snake-faced bastard would have taken over the world, and your precious High Table wouldn't have stood a chance. It is true, John did train me, which is the only reason I didn't die during my fated showdown with Voldemort. It is why your people should owe me and, by extension, John a massive debt. Remember, I won for a reason, and it would be in your best interest not to cross me or my friends."

The Harbinger expected that if he met Harry Potter, the boy would be meek and out of his element, but the boy, who was now seventeen years old, was very confident. By contrast he was also much more talkative than John, but the two had so many similar attributes, like loyalty and an unwavering code of conduct. "As I said, I had heard rumors, and now all my suspicions are confirmed. Here's my words carefully. We might welcome you into our world, but you are not someone who is immune to our laws."

Harry didn't care about any laws besides the laws of being a decent friend. Harry's personal rules for loyalty and honor went beyond any threat or law devised by people he never met.

John was Harry's mentor, and that trumped anything else. "Then you know that no matter what, I am always going to be standing by the side of my friends. New or old laws be damned, I will never stop fighting for my friends. If that starts a war with your High Table beware that I will fight back. Now heed my words. I have unlimited resources, from gold to magic. Trust me, it would be a fight you and your High Table would not be ready for."

John saw the hidden, insecure rise in Harry's anger in an effort to puff his chest out. "Harry." One stern word from John Wick was enough for Harry to get the bigger picture of trying not to make anymore enemies. His stern voice was warning enough to stop provoking these powerful people.

Out of respect, Harry bowed his head toward John, hating he was disappointing the person he looked up to the most. He could hear John's annoyance in his scolding voice. Regretfully, Harry did find he picked up the habit of talking too much, but at the same time he hated being underestimated or commanded what to do by people who had their own secret agenda to control him.

However, the warning from John didn't mean Harry should back down in fear from the High Table. It meant Harry's childish and insecure attitude still needed adjustments. All in the direction of trying to remain as stoic as possible.

Stoic people didn't make as many mistakes as people who led with their feelings. John had this pounded into him since he was a child, but Harry was still very new at this despite his advanced skills in other areas.

The almost fatherlike reprimand was enough to stop Harry from making this situation worse. The risk of escalation would only prolong the fight or end up with Harry dead alongside John.

The Harbinger nodded in understanding while still thankful John was able to calm this hybrid wizard assassin. This was not a typical young upstart like the late and disgraced Yousef of the Russian crime family. Harry Potter had more discipline, principals, and a conviction that gave him purpose with the skill set to do anything. Magic aside, Harry was decades younger than John Wick and someone who had already had the experience of winning one war. It was reasonable to think Harry Potter could easily start and possibly win another war, but this time with his sights set on the High Table. That power was scary even to someone as high up in the organization as The Harbinger was.

Moving on with the duel, The Harbinger ushered John Wick and Caine to the table to pick up their dueling weapons after they removed their bulletproof suit jackets. Bullets had clattered to the ground by the dozens because many people had hit them, but none got close to putting them down for good.

The format of the duel consisted of using single-shot dueling pistols in accordance with the old ways. It would have been idiotic to use modern weapons where you could unload every bullet in a matter of seconds and win. This one-at-a time approach gave everyone an equal chance to show their skill. This dueling tradition has been around since guns were first invented, with many important people throughout history using single-shot pistols in duels.

Harry left John's side and walked over to Winston to ask, "Why does it feel like I am helpless in this situation? It makes me wonder why you sent for me to join you. Was it just to watch John die?" Harry was not used to being helpless because he was usually the hammer driving all the nails down in his path.

Winston was playing the long game, and Harry was a powerful piece he needed to keep close. "You know me; I just had a feeling you could be useful. No telling exactly how yet; I wanted to be prepared just in case. There was also the fleeting, nagging feeling that told me you should see Johnathan in case this is the last time we all should ever meet." After a long pause, Winston added, "It is a tragedy Charon couldn't stand here with us to support Johnathan."

Winston didn't want to be somber, but he didn't know if Jonathan or himself were going to live beyond this beautiful sunrise. The bright yellow sun was rising, but it could have also been setting on their lives. In his suit jacket, Winston had written a letter to Harry on what to do with their bodies should they lose. As Johnathan's second, if Johnathan failed, then his life was lost as well. Winston had no children, so in addition to instructions, he also left a will, leaving Harry everything he could ever need to become the next major superpower in the Assassin world.

Still not knowing all the details Harry grumbled immaturely because he wanted to do more. He hated being on the sidelines when it felt like he could do so much more to flip the odds in their favor. John fighting this duel alone tore at his heartstrings. If John lost it would hurt Harry's soul. It would be devastating, especially knowing he could have stopped it. In his mind he could kill everyone here and they could all escape together.

If this was to be John's death it would tear Harry's mind apart because he still viewed John as the invincible assassin he had learned everything from. Harry felt like he couldn't lose another important person in his life. If that was to happen, Harry was already plotting revenge should the High Table get what they want.

Witnessing John's death would be the same pain Harry would feel if he had to watch Sirius die. In his book, John was almost the perfect father figure who appeared at the best time to steer Harry down the right path. John taught him to fight back while simultaneously teaching him how to physically and mentally win any battle. A deadly combination for people Harry felt got in his way.

It was John's steel will and deadly focus that made him dangerous. Harry soaked it in and changed his mentality to focus and be willing to do whatever it takes to win, which is why Dumbledore was still upset at what happened in the Ministry. Harry's one weakness was letting his emotions still rage inside him. In his own defense, Harry felt that anger guided his hands to do some of their best work.

Harry was tied to John as a friend on top of having a teacher-student relationship. Another reason why John's death would anger Harry so much. Because Harry remembered his mother dying in front of him as a baby, he couldn't stomach seeing anyone else he cared about die in front of him.

There was no doubt Harry would blame himself if he had to watch John die. With his hands tied and not being able to work, his killer magic was suffocating. Harry knew deep down he could cut down every enemy here for an easy escape in an effort to keep John alive for a while longer. Having magic meant Harry could hide John in his world out of reach of the High Table. The High Table would be mental if they attempted to kill John on Harry's home turf, a place where he was considered untouchable.

In front of a historic church in the center of the rock garden, the two duelists stepped thirty paces away from each other. It was a slow walk before raising their single-shot dueling pistols and firing their first shots.

BANG! BANG!

Harry did not know why John didn't win after one shot because the blind man shouldn't have had the ability to aim as accurately.

With no one dead, only staggered, and both duelists still on their feet The Harbinger commanded, "Walk forward ten paces."

The two wounded men then stepped or halfheartedly limped forward ten more paces to shoot each other again.

BANG! BANG!

Now Harry was very confused and was about to blurt out something in frustration, but Winston put a hand on his back to covertly calm him.

In that moment, Harry knew there was a secret plan he wasn't aware of. Winston wouldn't let John die for something so stupid if there wasn't a path to victory. This was essentially a muggle magic trick, meaning the blind man had to be in on it. Everyone was coming together and seemed to be working to foil the pompous Marquis and the elitist High Table.

By the third shot, the two men were heavily bleeding and wounded.

BANG!

John hit the ground, unable to stand from a gut shot, when the Marquis jumped in to try and steal the kill and glory from Caine. Not knowing the rules, this surprise gave Harry the idea to do the same. At this point, Harry wanted to swap places with John to put this cocky fancy boy prick in his place. This time to stop him, Winston had to hold him back with a firm arm put in front of the young assassin. It was the only way to stop Harry from jumping in and possibly ruining the plan.

Harry was utterly confused until Winston revealed the final step of the plan, which was that John did not shoot his final shot. "You arrogant asshole…he didn't shoot." Winston said with an all-knowing smirk.

In a moment of pure genius, John had the chance to shoot his third shot with no repercussions. With a final word of "Consequences" a single bullet from the one-shot dueling pistol in John's hand went right between the eyes of the Marquis before exploding out the back of his head. The bullet cut the man's strings so to speak and sent the man falling back as dead as dead could be.

It was all the result of the consequences the Marquis had brought on himself and was such was the last word the man heard before he died. Though in Harry's book the man deserved worse for killing Charon. It was that truth that made Harry want to hold the prick under a Crucio for hours until he begged for death. Charon was a great friend with the kindest soul, one too great for the type of work he was in.

When the duel was officially over with the Harbinger giving confirmation, it was all over with all debts paid. Feeling a fire under him Harry knew what he had to do. Rushing to John's side Harry with his wand already drawn and ready as he started to try and heal the damage of the devastating gunshots. With no bulletproof suit jacket, the bullets easily ripped through John's white dress shirt, leaving three bloody bullet holes with plenty of dark crimson blood gushing out. "No, no, no, don't die on me, John! Stay with me a little longer! I got you!"

Because these weren't magical injuries, Harry could heal and mend John's skin back together. The gunshots didn't hit any vital organs by some miracle. The wounds were all through and through due to the large caliber of bullets. Together, they might have been fatal if left untreated. John could have bled out if Harry wasn't trying to heal them faster than John was bleeding out. Harry tried to stave off death for as long as he could.

John had come to terms with the possibility of death. The only time he didn't want to die was when he was with Helen. When she had prematurely died, he had given up on life again. The problem was he was too stubborn to die; however, this might have finally been the end of the line for him.

Deep down, John had accepted this was the best outcome and welcomed death to be with his wife again. In acceptance, he wanted but struggled to try and push Harry away. He was thinking of his death and lying peacefully six feet deep next to his wife until the end of time. While it was what he wanted, he could not stop Harry from trying to save him. His student had a concerned and panicked look because it would seem this could have shattered his student's very soul if John had died in his arms.

Winston hoped his plan worked and John would survive the effects of this duel. The truth was he had gotten his hotel back, but if he could save John in the process, it would have been the definition of a win-win. "Can you save him?" Winston's whole plan for bringing Harry was to guarantee John made it to the duel and to save him should he get gravely wounded.

Harry was in his seventh year of Hogwarts, and it so happened that during his sixth year he had to learn all these handy but important healing spells. Ones that could mend normal, non-magical injuries with ease. The spells to counter and mend curses were much harder. Physical damage repair was almost trivial in some cases, but these wounds were pushing the full extent of his healing abilities. The miracle was no major organs or bones were hit, which would require potions and an actual healer like Madam Pomfrey.

"I think I can save him. I have to close the wounds and hope nothing else inside is too damaged. I would need potions if something important was knicked. I think the bullets avoided anything vital, which is impressive shot placement for a blind man. I can't be sure until he is mended so the blood stops flowing. If it gets any worse, then we can get him to a real doctor or magical healer. The magical French high street is not too far; they would have the best healers and supplies there."

John was starting to feel the pain fade. "I feel…different." John never had Harry use magic on him before, and to feel his body heal so quickly felt better than painkillers. It was that or his life was slipping away, and the numbness was from his soul, ready to slip out of him completely.

Caine had followed the sounds of the commotion. "I can't see what is happening. Did I hit something I shouldn't have?"

John Wick croaked out a grunt as his abdomen wound was the most painful one to stitch with magic. Feeling his muscle and skin stitch back together wasn't as painful as getting shot, but it still hurts. The healed bullet wound in his arm was pure relief compared to the gut shot. "Could be worse."

Harry did not want to crack a smile, but this was why John was the strongest person he ever met. John was Harry's biggest role model, and in moments like these, that was why Harry wanted to be like John. In the face of possible death, John wasn't afraid and could casually almost joke about it. "Almost done. I think I got it all, but to be sure, we could use a second opinion from a real healer. Not that I don't trust my own magical abilities, but it couldn't hurt."

Another few minutes on the ground while John caught his breath had everyone breathing a sigh of relief. John's breathing was back to normal, and his eyes looked full of life again.

Harry had John now fully healed, which was a crucial part of Winston's grand plan. The man masterfully played chess in a way to not sacrifice his pieces but protect them as much as he could. With Charon being the tragic exception.

John's white shirt was still drenched in blood, implying that he was leaking blood by the pint, but in truth he wasn't. Harry cast a cleaning charm on the shirt as an added measure to make sure he didn't miss a spot. When John was free of bullet holes with no other leaks, Harry decided to help Caine, giving him the same treatment as a professional courtesy for going along with the whole thing.

If this man was John's friend and went along with this crazy plan, then Harry would try to help however he could. Loyalty and brotherhood were always paramount in his book. Harry was a loyal person, always had been, but John also taught him that loyalty went hand in hand with respect.

While Harry moved away from John the Tracker, he walked over and said, "Wow, Johnny, talk about putting on a show. I could be upset about missing out on the fifty million dollar bounty, but you saving my girl means more than money." The Tracker said his peace and held out his hand.

Harry was still cautiously on edge of all these new faces; he didn't know. Under his own power, John was up on his feet to shake the man's hand. "I know the pain of losing a dog. When I lost mine, a part of me died. I couldn't let it happen to anyone else, no matter what side they are on."

The Tracker laughed at the absurdity of the Baba Yaga caring so much about dogs. He seemed to be a big softie at heart. A total contradiction compared to all the myths and stories he heard about John over the years. "Well, now that the fun is over, I guess I still have to keep going out to earn my money...the hard way." The Tracker took a few steps away before turning around to add one last thing: "If your bounty is ever that high again, be sure to give me a heads up."

John gave a simple nod with a slight wince as he was still feeling a small tinge of pain from his three healed gunshots. He felt fine on the ground, but on his feet moving around, he felt some of the magic wearing off.

As the two respected assassins were talking, Harry was trying his best to heal Caine. The bullet holes were easy enough, but Harry also took a look at the man's eyes. The damage to said eyes looked to be chemical. It meant the man was probably able to see shadows and blurry movement but no fine details or colors.

The lens of his eye was damaged, which was an easy fix if he directed his wand to try and heal it. There was no underlying condition that took his eyes from disease. This type of blindness was inflicted as a punishment by sadists. "Give me one second, but I warn you this might burn."

Caine was seeing a shadow in front of him, but the rising sun made it difficult to make out exactly what was happening. It wasn't until he felt his eyes burn and sting for about six seconds that he realized he could see. His sacrifice was paid, but he was now free and had his eyesight repaired. This kind gesture from someone he did not know meant he could now really see his daughter in the flesh. With his debt paid, he could finally leave this life behind to be with his beloved daughter.

The hardcore assassin had only cried twice when his daughter was born and when he had to give her up. It felt like fate was giving him a do-over; his eyes couldn't help but shed a few tears before thanking this mystery man.

Caine had no idea who this young boy was, but John trusted him, which was more than enough to tell Caine everything he needed to know of his character. "Thank you." The only two words to express the many feelings coursing through Caine's body and mind.

Harry understood why the former blind man was short on words. Assassins were bad at emotions in general, and while Harry still had a lot to learn, he could plainly see how much the gift of sight meant for the man. "Thanks for going along with this. I would have hated to lose John, and I would have hated you for killing him, friend or not. Revenge is a dangerous feeling for people like us to have. Avoiding it all together is a massive accomplishment. Today also showed me there is still so much I have to learn when it comes to the intricacies of these genius grand plans."

Harry might have been a "great" or above-average assassin already, but Harry needed more. He wanted to learn even more from John to fully transform into the potential next great assassin John saw in him from the start.

Their first and last training session only lasted three months, but Harry was well more advanced than other aspiring assassins at his age. Harry was also the victor of a war since they last met and now he had taken a stand against the High Table. The only thing left was for Harry to learn all the other tricks John had up his sleeves. If that was the case, Harry could move to America or John could move to the UK, where they could finish his training.

Winston broke up the silence by clapping loudly at how everyone was healed and the only ones who lost were the High Table. They were the ones who were compelled to follow the deal they made. Winston's hotel was to be rebuilt at no cost to him, and everyone who wanted to be out of the game was out. "This calls for a celebration. Speaking of the Paris Continental isn't too far from here."

Harry had sheathed his wand, feeling a small drain on his magical core from all the intensive healing magic. Not to mention the adrenaline dump of this battle being officially over. "I think I could use a drink. In fact, I think we all can probably use more than one drink." Harry was trying to keep it light because tonight the last few hours already had more excitement and terror than he was expecting.

John didn't know what to say other than, "Yeah, a Bourbon would be nice right about now." Because if anyone could use a drink, it was John right about now.

Caine had picked up his sword cane and was still using it as a walking stick, almost out of habit. "I could go for some sake. With my sight returned, I can keep the bottle and pour my own glass again. Fighting blind came easy to me, but some normal chores were made a lot more difficult with no sight."

Caine was in a dreamy haze, almost unable to believe he had regained the ability to see. Looking at the sunrise, it truly felt like a new day was dawning for him. The chance to retire and finally be a father was the best gift he could have been given.

Winston walked this motley crew of wild dogs down a few streets until they were under the protection of the Paris Continental. Walking through the doors, they were greeted by the Paris Continental concierge, who immediately ushered them to their own private table in the bar.

Word had already spread worldwide that the High Table's contract on John Wick was null and void. The group of tired and haggard assassins were immediately seated. From the looks around the bar, all of the other assassins staying at the hotel were visibly relieved that they didn't have to cross the Boogeyman. The famous assassin had to have killed over a hundred people in the streets of Paris tonight if the radio updates of John's exploits were to be believed.

The hotel concierge had the group seated at a big private table where John staked his claim on the seat with a clear view of the door. Understandable, he was still on edge from his experiences of being hunted by assassins all day every day for months at a time.

The group as a whole was already exhausted and emotionally drained after tonight. Even Harry, who only saw a small part of it but almost came face to face with the trauma of losing another loved one.

Seconds after being seated and taking a breath to regain their sense of safety under the Continental protections the table ordered. They didn't need time to look at the drink menu; instead, they simply ordered their drinks of choice. Said drinks were delivered in a flash as a show of respect from the hotel for everyone sitting at the table.

When the table got their drinks almost as fast as they were ordered, the drinks were at their lips being sipped in silence. The gravity of tonight had been something none of them would forget. That being said, there was a lot they still had to take in and digest.

The adrenaline was leaving their bodies, and soon everyone's shoulders dropped. Winston didn't even have to pull a trigger, but he was still on edge, having had his life tied to John's own outcome of the duel. Coming face-to-face with death made everyone at the table take pause.

Underneath the cloud of death, the silver lining was a simple seed of hope and relief that was blossoming now that everything was over. All scores had been settled and laid to rest, meaning they were all friends again with no outstanding contracts or vendettas. This was a shining moment of bliss because they could relax without the threat of death nipping at their heels.

Harry had felt this same type of relief when he had finally finished off Voldemort for good and, on the same night, put Dumbledore in his place.

Although he was a little upset, John didn't trust him enough to call for his help when this mess first started. Harry was more than willing to drop anything if John needed his help.

Luckily Harry was messaged to join the party because he would have started a war against the High Table if he learned they succeeded in killing his mentor after the fact. If that were the case, no one would have been able to hide if Harry decided to get his revenge on the people responsible for orchestrating John's death.

Yet John was still standing thanks to Harry's literal magic and Winston doing the one thing he did best, which was playing the long game. If it wasn't for that, John would have bled out and died. Looking at John Harry noticed something that he should have observed earlier. "John, why are you missing a finger?"

John sipped his Bourbon and sighed, "Long story. One that doesn't matter now and can be told in depth later."

Harry took that as the final answer but was still curious as to how John lost a damn finger.

As for the drinks being sipped they went down easy, and in the middle of ordering their second round of drinks, a great, deep laugh came from across the room. A dark-skinned man with cuts marking his face walked towards the table. "Never doubted you for a second, John."

Harry didn't know who this man was, but he wasn't dressed as one would expect from an assassin who belonged in the high-class French Continental. He looked more homeless than professional. The big man's jacket wasn't new or fashionable like John or Winston's suits but a raggedy cheap dark tattered jacket. "Who are you?" Harry asked, desperately wanting to know anyone else that could be involved in a new conflict.

The Bowery King looked to the new kid, a new player he was equally curious about. "I could say the same to you. I haven't ever seen someone as young as you in a place like this or with people like this. Do you know you are in the big leagues, kid?"

The Bowery King took his time to take in the sight and try to make educated inferences about who this new kid was. This was in addition to looking at Caine, whom he had only heard rumors about. He never saw the man up close until now, though one of those rumors was Caine's blindness, but the Asian assassin was miraculously using his eyes to find his glass and follow movement as if he somehow magically regained his sight.

For being the King of information, the King felt lacking. "Don't tell me the Boogeyman had a bastard child running around that I didn't know about. I would think the Boogeyman wouldn't be so careless as to father a bastard." The Bowery King didn't expect to see a young teen at the table mucking it up like he belonged.

The kid stuck out like a sore thumb in a place like this. But the boy's long but messy black hair reminded him a little of John, particularly seeing as the kid had it pushed back behind his ears ready for a fight. It was a clear imitation, but it made sense because if he learned from the famous John Wick, you took in every detail, down to the way he wore his longer hair.

Harry extended his hand, "Harry Potter." Harry showed his respect to the man with scars across his face. He didn't know this man, but John's hand didn't inch towards his gun, and the others at the table were accepting of him. That was all Harry needed to know.

The Bowery King instantly recognized the name. How could you not when you hear of an elite teenage assassin across the pond taking and completing almost impossible jobs? This news was said in whispers with only speculative rumors that the teen may have been connected to John. He didn't have these confirmed until he saw the kid sitting next to John as an equal.

This kid was already making a name for himself doing some truly insane jobs in London. Jobs that some adult assassins would have trouble with. To that effect, this kid was able to be a ghost or go in loud, mirroring John's style and skill. The idea a teenager could clear a warehouse of gang members as good as the famous John Wick was almost absurd. Just as absurd as the idea of magic in general, which the Bowery King had initially dismissed.

Those rumors of the few high, almost impossible-tier jobs completed by a teenager sounded too mythical. With a booming voice, the man dug deeper, "I recognize the name. I managed all the secret communications and gossip of contracts in New York for many years. I have a vague memory of hearing chatter that a young newcomer was making a name for himself by not fucking it up, is the best way I can put it. John must have trained you well because the few leaked details of your big jobs put you in some of the highest regard. Only someone like John could have trained a kid to pull off what you have at your age."

Harry would have blushed if he could because to be John's one and only apprentice was a big boon. It was ultra rare to be an apprentice to someone like John, and it was something everyone who ever met him acknowledged. For John to train him had marked him as special and worthy of John's time.

Frankly Harry preferred this level of fame compared to the wizarding world, when people would comment on his legend that started when he lost his parents as a baby. It always went hand in hand with people constantly telling him he had his mother's eyes. Fame was a very different experience here than there. In the assassin world, people more or less feared and respected his reputation more than in the magical world.

When he was on the magical side, wizards tried to treat him as a doormat or a child who got lucky despite killing a near-unstoppable Voldemort twice. Something no one else could have done, but Harry still felt as if he was looked down on by the older generation.

Treated as if Harry only made it out alive because he was lucky and not a skilled killer. The unintended comedy was that people kept assuming he was lucky when in reality he was orphaned as a baby, which was the definition of unlucky. Those same people didn't see the mental and physical toll it took on him and what he had to do to overcome all that devastating trauma.

No matter now because, thanks to John and Winston, Harry managed to push through and do it. He had to push through the pain in order to grow and become a deadly force of nature who could kill everyone in the way so he could win this war he had wanted no part in the first place.

It was true that Harry was technically a war hero. However, he saw almost no benefits besides being stopped a million times whenever he went out into the magical public. Harry signed autographs, took photos, and was asked questions, but that was it. It has started to feel as if he was walking on eggshells because his power intimidated people. Normal and important wizards alike were scared of what Harry turned into.

Magical people didn't hold the same respect for power the assassin world did. There was no honor because wizards would stab you in the back to steal more power for themselves.

He might have had a good relationship with the current Minister, Amelia Bones, but if she retired tomorrow, someone would no doubt take her place. Then the newly appointed Minister might make an attempt to put a leash on him. Harry had too much sway over public opinion and was too well liked to be left alone. This was the biggest reason Harry didn't mind leaving Hogwarts to slip back into this different world, which was much more black and white.

With the formalities out of the way, the Bowery King had joined the table while Harry was ruminating in a moment of deep reflection. This was surreal, and Harry almost did not know how he ended up here; however, it just felt right somehow.

When the big kingpin of information sat down, he promptly ordered himself a Cognac to celebrate the good news of the High Table being put in their place.

With a loud, booming laugh, the man almost shouted, "We are back, baby. No more hiding in the shadows or moving underground like rats. I can once again build a spy network and take back the Bowery. It will take time to get it back to its former glory, but who knows, maybe this time I could try to go global. Winston will even get his precious hotel built back bigger than ever. New York City will once again be the place to be, not that this city doesn't have its charm."

Winston raised his glass and said, "This was the outcome best for everyone. I always planned to regain my hotel by any means necessary, even at the cost of my own life. The events that have happened in the last few months have been nothing but harmful to our business. We have tried to keep the status quo and stay quiet, but the High Table has had other ideas. They thought it was a good idea to pull Jonathan back into this pond. Their hubris was not realizing Jonathan is the biggest shark you do not want to swim with. He can kill anything, including the hundreds, if not thousands, of the assassins they sent after him since this whole mess started."

Harry's eyes widened comically knowing John was good, but those numbers were lifetime numbers. You were lucky to kill a thousand people in the average assassin career, and here John was retired, then pulled back in to add that many kills to his already impressive career. "A thousand? Bloody hell, and here I thought twenty or so was a good number. I think twenty is my one-night record. If I add them all up, then maybe I have killed a little under a hundred targets by now, but to you, that is a slow night."

John sighed as if the weight of that many deaths was actually having an impact on him. "I didn't keep count. It all blends together after a while when you are constantly fighting for your life. The largest bounty ever put on me by Santino, followed by the Table didn't help either. Everyone with a dream of instant wealth and reputation wanted to be the one to take me down."

Harry couldn't imagine the random assassin mindset thinking he could take down bloody John Wick, the infamous Baba Yaga. Though Harry did understand the killing part of his speech to a lesser degree. A few of Harry's later assassin contracts blurred together, and he couldn't remember every detail. The faces blended together after a while because he couldn't let his mind linger. Harry wanted and liked to work, meaning he had to always be looking forward to the next job. Doing so, he had to put everything else out of his mind to continue to march forward.

The lone exception was the night at the Ministry, in which every small detail was forever burned into Harry's memory. His brain forced him to remember every miniscule detail from that night, every bullet he shot, everyone he killed, and the final look on their faces. From the look of surprise on Lucius's face to the anger and pure hatred in Voldemort's face before Harry pumped him full of instantly lethal bullets.

As sick as it sounded, it was one of the best days of Harry's life. Most of the time, Harry had to fight not to smile when he thought about that night. Unlike other jobs where he would try to forget after the contract was closed and he was paid his fee.

During the tense atmosphere, Harry decided to lighten the tone by cracking a joke: "Well, let's hope no one is stupid enough to put a price on your head again. What was it even up to? I have to imagine it would be sky high for anyone to risk the odds going against someone with your reputation."

Caine poured another small tea cup of saké, "Over forty million. I would have collected too until I remembered something our friend Koji would say. Friendship means very little when it's convenient. I trusted John, and together we were able to find a way out of this life for good. I am getting my daughter back and, by happenstance, my sight as well. It might be over for me, but my hope is that John can hopefully move on. Getting out of this life costs people like us nearly everything, which makes this moment all the sweeter."

John didn't know what to do because revenge against the High Table was all he had been thinking about for the last few months. Though now it was clear he couldn't continue to do so because nothing would change.

The High Table was too powerful; similar to the mythological hydra, when you cut off one head, two more take its place. "My house is rubble, so I don't even know what to go back to. Not like I have anyone to go back to. This life has taken everything from me."

Harry didn't know John's circumstances but piped in to try and selfishly get him to stick around. "You can stay with me. I don't want to sound selfish, but I want a chance to finish my training. That short time we had together was as hard as it was fun for me, plus I wouldn't want to tarnish your reputation if I die from something stupid... like a pencil."

John cracked a smile at the joke and felt comfort having his so-called apprentice back in his life. Harry could almost be considered the son he didn't get to have with Helen. John imagined if he did have kids with Helen, their son or daughter would be similar to Harry. A kid who is kind, loyal, and has a hard work ethic who was always looking to soak up all the knowledge he had to give.

After giving it a few seconds of thought, John answered, "I think I can stick around or move you over to America. If you are serious, I will need years to get you on my level. With your legend spreading, people are trying to figure you out. We both know your biggest weakness of close quarter combat will eventually get you killed if it isn't addressed."

Harry smiled, already finding this option better than Hogwarts. "You have a deal." Harry would eagerly learn whatever John wanted to teach him, no matter how much it hurt or how hard he struggled. This kind of work was far more rewarding than learning at Hogwarts, which now seemed like a waste of time in comparison. Learning about plants or stars was almost useless when compared to learning how to protect your life and the lives of others with your own two hands.

Just when the silence returned as everyone returned to their drinks, there was a crash followed by yelling, "Sir! Sir! Stop running in our hotel!"

The panic caused everyone at the table to slide their hands over to their weapons as a precaution. Just in case there was an assassin crazy enough to break the Continental rules to try to collect a bounty that was no longer valid.

To Harry's surprise, the figure who rushed into the bar area was his godfather, Sirius Black. His godfather looked frantic and clearly upset about his unplanned disappearance from school.

"Sirius, what the bloody hell are you doing here? You could have gotten yourself killed rushing in here like that. You can't be that reckless."

Everyone at the bar relaxed, seeing that this man wasn't a threat. The man identified as Sirius was just an overexcitable man child. The hands creeping towards guns were back on drinks, putting the tense atmosphere to rest.

Sirius grabbed onto Harry's shoulders, making sure he wasn't seeing things. In Azkaban, he often had hallucinations that weren't real, unable to tell the difference until he tried to touch them. This was different, but he wanted to be sure he wasn't losing it. Every time Harry jumped into danger, Sirius felt like his heart was going to explode. If Harry died and Sirius couldn't protect him, it would be another mark on his long list of failures.

James and Lily made him promise to protect Harry, and so far he had done a pretty shitty job. Locked away for twelve years didn't help matters, but when he came out, Harry was put in more life-and-death situations than Sirius knew what to do with.

Sirius even took to shaking Harry a little to see if Harry winced this, giving it away that he was injured. All signs pointed to okay; besides a few smears of blood on his clothes, his godson looked healthy. "You fucking scare the shit out of me, pup. You have to stop doing it, or else my poor heart is going to bloody give out. I got a floo message from McGonagall informing me that you fled school with a gun after telling everyone off, saying you won't be back. I was rightfully worried that your life was in danger, so I tracked you down in case you were in over your head. Boy was I ready to jump in to help but instead I found you at a swanky hotel instead."

Harry didn't know how Sirius could possibly track him down. Sirius didn't have the assassin connections to track him down to the Paris Continental hotel. "Wait, how did you find me? Hermione knew I was in Paris, but that was all I knew at the time. There is no possible way you found this place on your own."

Sirius perked up, "Oh, that is easy. After your little disappearing act over the summer break, I took precautions. So when you were home for the holiday's fifth year, I snuck into your room and put tracking spells on your broom, bag, wand, and cloak. Not that I didn't trust you, but I knew not to trust you in case of a situation just like this. I was scared to death you might disappear again, so I wanted to be prepared."

Harry's eyes twitched learning his godfather was tracking him like a common criminal or worse, a pet. While it was sweet in a way, Harry would have liked to be informed someone was tracking him. "What? Are you serious? Don't you bloody dare make that joke." Harry cut off his godfather before he made the same tired old joke. "That doesn't feel like an invasion of privacy to you?"

Sirius shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly at his godson's fury. "Come on, pup, you have picked up a habit of disappearing lately. I didn't want to be sitting at home wondering if you would be okay when I could go and find out for myself. Who knows, you might even appreciate a little backup. You know I am not useless, right? Just because I don't know how to use those big muggle metal things doesn't mean I can't take care of myself. I was an Auror for fuck's sake." Trying to change the subject, Sirius looked at the bar and asked, "What do I need to do to get a drink around here?"

Harry was still angry, as he felt violated having Sirius not trust him enough to take care of himself. "Listen, we can discuss this later, but I am trying to enjoy a much-deserved victory party with some friends."

Sirius looked around at the table of assassins. Safe to say it looked like a very odd cast of characters. There was a slim Asian man sipping from a tiny cup, giving him a stare as if Sirius wasn't there. Then there was a large man with scars all over his face, and something clicked together in Sirius's mind because this man reminded him of Mad Eye Moody. Marching right up to him, Sirius extended his hand, "And I take it you must be John Wick."

Everyone, including Harry, almost slapped their hands against their faces at that mistake. It was so brazen that even the Bowery King didn't know how to respond. Not taking the hand, the Bowery King responded, "Hahaha! That is a first. I never thought in my wildest dreams someone would assume I was the Boogeyman. Hahaha!" Saying it out loud caused The Bowery King to let out a booming laugh at the absurdity.

The rest of the table let out a chuckle at Sirius's stupidity for making the worst guess possible. While everyone at the table had a joke to lighten the mood, Harry frustratingly pointed at the real John Wick. "Him, he is John Wick. He is the one who taught me how to be an assassin. He is the sole reason I am still alive today."

John cracked a rare smile but was looking the shaggy-looking man up and down, comparing him to the image he had in his head from what Harry already told him. The man was loyal and a good fighter for a wizard, which told him Harry was lucky to have him.

Caine meanwhile laughed the loudest before chiming in, "I can't thank you enough, Harry. Now that I can see it, it makes that joke all the better." The gift of sight was going to make his reunion with his daughter perfect. At the same time, it also made these small moments all the more special.

Caine letting out another big laugh caused the Bowery King to narrow his eyes. "Hey, I have killed my fair share. I wasn't always the 'big boss' you see before you today." The Bowery King might have been a low-level assassin when he first ran into John, but when he healed from his almost lethal neck wound, the man had a resolve to become a bigger player in the game. It was all going to plan too until the High Table carved his face up after dismantling his empire.

Harry forcefully sat Sirius down next to him, trying to convey to his godfather that he needed to be on his best behavior. The old dog needed to respect the people here at this table because this was a table of the most dangerous people Sirius would ever meet.

To cut the awkwardness of Sirius's intrusion, Harry cleared his throat, "Sorry for the interruption, but this is too childish of a godfather, Sirius Black. He is magical like me, but make no mistake, he is not like us. After my last disappearing act, he was worried I might be getting in over my head again. A fear not unfounded given my knack for finding myself in trouble. Unfortunately, it is a fact made true and worse thanks to John teaching me to tackle problems head first with plenty of bullets."

The table was in good spirits laughing or smiling at Harry's joke because there was no scarier person than John Wick tackling a problem.

However, the Bowery King was sneakier in his problem-solving approach, except his signature covert method eventually led him to being carved up.

The Bowery King had recently learned he didn't need to hide his actions. He owned his moves, making it clear what side he was on by helping John in order to tip the scales back in his favor. If John won the battle, The Bowery King could regain some of his status as a big player while also using it as a recruitment tool to rebuild his empire.

Meanwhile, Sirius felt Harry's words and the smirks as a strike to his ego. The brush off as someone who wasn't dangerous hurt his pride because he was not included in this exclusive group of killers his godson was a part of.

The truth was Sirius had always thought of himself as a threat to anyone as a more than capable fighter. He felt a little disrespected as he looked around at people who viewed him as a joke. "When I was an Auror...magical cop for you muggles, I killed a few bad guys. Harry is forgetting to mention that I fought Voldemort and my fair share of deadly duels during the first war."

Sirius tried to boast, and while he might have killed a few baddies, it had to be an insignificant number compared to everyone at the table. Even to someone like Harry, who was the youngest at the table but already had a towering body count compared to Sirius. It honestly wasn't fair to Sirius or these assassins to try and put them on the same level.

Harry rubbed his face, feeling the beginning of a headache start to form. He could tell Sirius was trying to compensate to insert himself into the private party. "Sirius, I am begging you to stop talking. Sit back and have a drink. You are a guest and still don't understand what we are. We aren't police; we are assassins; we deal out death where we see fit with little to no rules. Killing is just a job unless you count what happened to John, which became personal due to an unlucky turn of fate."

Harry didn't want this meeting to go south, meaning he was trying his best to balance both worlds, but his godfather trying to peacock wasn't helping matters.

The situation worsened by Winston laughing, having seen the ledgers and contracts for thousands of assassins. So the grisled man knew a killer when he saw one. It might be true Harry's guest Sirius had a few kills under his belt. However, Harry's godfather didn't have the business-serious attitude that came with discipline. He also did not have the look of a heavy weight weighing someone down after killing dozens to hundreds of people. "From the look of you, I would guess...eight people." Winston guessed the newcomer's body count.

Winston could accurately guess because he had seen countless young assassins who had completed one good job with single-digit kills before suddenly acting like they were elite assassins. It was not reality, and those people were either humbled quickly or, more likely, ended up dead.

Sirius puffed his chest out, thinking he was better than first estimated, "Eleven. We were in a war at the time, so it is a little high compared to someone like Harry's father, who was my partner." From what Sirius knew of this world from Harry, that tidbit should have earned him a little respect.

Harry slapped his godfather's leg under the table for embarrassing him. "Sirius, you don't want to play this game. It is a game you will lose." Harry probably assisted or had directly killed eleven or more people tonight alone. Before Harry showed up, John probably quadrupled that number on his own.

Caine leaned forward, testing his eyes by looking directly at the newcomer. "I like games, but even I don't even know my actual number. If I had to guess, it would be in the low two thousands."

Sirius had a drink placed in front of him by a cute waitress. Sirius had just picked it up a centimeter off the table before dropping it when he heard that number. The drink almost spilled, but that sentence was insane to hear. Those were genocidal numbers. "You taking the piss?"

Harry shook his head. "No, he isn't. He might not look it, but he is older than he looks and has been doing this for a long time. You don't become the assassin who they hire to take down John Wick unless you are the best and have a truly prolific body count."

Sirius looked at the table with a little more fear, trying to run the numbers, comparing them to what he knew about Voldemort. "That is bloody mental. It is estimated Voldemort only killed a few hundred himself over many decades. A damn miracle because he wanted to kill billions of muggles, though he never got close to actually doing it before Harry finally killed him for good. Death Eaters had also done most of the killing, but still. Bloody hell, this is all pretty insane to hear; it's a totally different world here."

Harry scoffed before explaining what Sirius had said wrong. "I keep telling you that assassins are a different breed. You see, we don't kill innocents; we assassins have rules, and it is mutual combat when you play this game at our level."

John and Winston had heard every detail about Voldemort, so they knew the monster was dangerous, but they expected a little more in terms of body count. Harry didn't know a lot about Voldemort before his birth, so he couldn't even be able to answer all their questions back when they first met.

If Voldemort's death toll numbers were accurate, then they sounded paltry compared to a truly elite assassin like John or Caine. It was probably due in part to the magical world being so small, but Winston still would have bet all of his gold reserves on John being able to eliminate Voldemort if the fate of the world came down to it.

It just turned out the second-best option was to train Harry to fight his own battle. A genius plan that played out to perfection. Proving the training from John Wick the Baba Yaga was priceless and necessary.

In less than a few months, Winston and John had molded an unskilled, raw, talented teenager into the most dangerous wizard alive. Harry was able to use almost exclusively non-magical tools to come out on top of this fated confrontation. However, if you also threw in magic, then Harry was damn near unstoppable.

It worked in Harry's favor that the magical world was isolated and not ready for an assassin wizard hybrid. Harry used that to his advantage but did not get lazy because when Harry jumped back into the assassin world he had to be on his toes, knowing he was still outclassed in some respects. His few shortcomings made it obvious Harry still had so much more to learn if he truly desired to be on his mentor's level.

Back in the discussion with the interloper Sirius Black, Winston had to add his two cents to try and convey how different this world was from the Magical world. "To put that in perspective, Mr. Black, since John entered this world for the second time, his kill count has to be well past the triple digit mark. John is also unique because he is a man who only wants peace. It's all he has ever wanted, and he has had to fight through hell to get it. Never underestimate a simple but very capable man who only wants peace."

John raised his glass to Winston because his old friend was right. This was about peace, and now with everything square and all the right people dead, he could live out the rest of his days peacefully grieving his wife. John couldn't let her memory be for nothing. He had to keep fighting, trying to find another reason for the will to live. It could be for love with another dog, or it could be mentoring his student, who was still rough around the edges. Like the son he always wanted, John had started to feel an almost parental responsibility for Harry Potter.

Sirius took every word in, but for his whole life he was under the belief that killing was wrong. Maybe it was wizarding culture or he took too many lessons from Dumbledore, but it all still felt wrong. It was bad enough Harry had to go down this dark path, but that seemed to be the high price Harry had to pay for doing the impossible and killing Voldemort for good.

Deep down, Sirius hoped this type of assassin work didn't destroy or split his godson's soul. It was painful to see Harry in this world of death, but the biggest insult was that John Wick was clearly Harry's newest role model. Sirius wanted to be that person for his godson, but this mysterious man had sunk his claws the deepest into Harry's mind.

Sirius heard much about John from Harry, but many of the details remained hidden. If Harry was completely honest, Sirius might have run to tell Dumbledore or tried to undo what Harry learned. Some part of Sirius could understand his godson's hard situation because he could now see this man was the sole reason Harry was able to pull off the impossible.

From the death count and all the supposed wisdom, Sirius almost expected an older man in John's place. His mind thought of John as similar to Dumbledore in that respect, but this haggard but sharply dressed middle-aged man in a suit looked to be around Sirius's own age. Sirius had more gray hair, which made him think John was maybe a few years younger. Although Sirius forgot to account for the years he spent in Azkaban, which no doubt played a part with his graying hair.

Taking a moment to think back on Harry's stories about bars and pencils, Sirius didn't want to believe that this man was real. John Wick was clearly dangerous, and the more he thought about it, the scarier it felt to be around him.

Meanwhile, Harry hoped Sirius's silence was a moment of self-reflection that would humble the old dog. His godfather needed to realize it wouldn't work to puff his chest out here. Harry barely got away with it earlier at the duel before John reprimanded him for being too outwardly cocky.

"Let's change the subject." Harry said before he then tried to launch into a conversation about the gun Winston procured for him. With John having the same pistol, the two went off into their own master and apprentice conversation about the Pit Viper.

While the conversation shifted, Sirius was still staring at John, trying to see underneath Wick's gruff and serious exterior to understand the hold he had over Harry. The man had almost a bland and cold personality which made him impossible to read.

All those factors, and Harry was still treating John like he was a kid trying to make his father proud. What Sirius was feeling was no doubt rumblings of pure jealousy.

First and foremost, Sirius was again raging at Dumbledore for not letting him raise Harry when he had the chance. If Sirius had a trial and was awarded custody, then he could have raised Harry as a loving father figure. That could have saved Harry and changed everything so his godson didn't need to run into the arms of this cold-blooded killer.

Could everything be that easy, or was there something more where fate pushed these two together? Was it always Harry's destiny to meet John Wick in order to learn the best way he could kill Voldemort? Was love the answer to the question of power like Dumbledore preached? Could fatherly love from a young age produce a strong warrior capable of killing Voldemort, or did Harry have to suffer and be forged into this hardened weapon?

Sirius was unable to lose the feelings of insecurity or the many questions he had as the minutes ticked by. Everyone was drinking their drinks, ignoring the blood splatter on their clothes or stench of death, and gunpowder clouded around the table.

This truly was a different world where the feeling of death was constant. It was an unnerving feeling for Sirius that felt like death itself had a seat at the table.

Minutes kept passing by before Sirius snapped. Under the table, Sirius withdrew his wand from his pocket to take matters into his own hands. Sirius immediately had it pointed at John's leg under the table. Sirius could correctly assume this was a bad idea, but he had to know. He had to see the real essence of this man.

The feeling of not knowing was driving Sirius mad. In no short part because of the evidently very close relationship Harry had with this 'John Wick'. Under his breath, Sirius's low incantation went undetected. "Legilimens." Sirius was allowed a split second of ignorance before he was transported into the mind of the world's deadliest assassin.

During the spell, Sirius didn't want to go too deep in the man's mind to avoid raising suspicion. He tried to gently scrape the surface of his thoughts, but the assassin's mind was a black hole of death sucking him deeper. The dark hole of constant murder and death was only split between a few and far-between shining moments of peace. Those few good moments involved a woman. This woman was the only one who made John feel something resembling love before those memories turned to more death.

Sirius was also transported to the last few months of memories, where he had to watch the longest series of kills he ever imagined. There were so many kills strung together there was no way to possibly keep count.

If Sirius was forced to put a number on it, John Wick would have killed close to five hundred people in the last few months alone. This bloke was a one-man army, the likes of which Sirius had never seen. 'No wonder Harry is the way he is. It finally makes sense as to how and why Harry was able to kill Voldemort and every Death Eater he went up against.'

This dip into the killer's mind was going undetected until he dug deeper when he wanted to see more of the woman in love with this deadly assassin. The scene was innocent and felt different than anything else he had seen. Sirius thought it might be a dream until the woman collapsed in John's arms. The scene then shifted to a hospital and then a funeral. Those memories are when Sirius felt a push out of the man's mind. The push was unlike anything he expected from a muggle who should have had no defenses against mind magic.

Harry noticed John get quiet before he winced in pain and grabbed at his head. It was a split second, but Harry knew that looked well because it had happened to him many times over the years. Snapping his head to his godfather, Harry looked to see Sirius's eyes go wide before Harry also looked down, noticing Sirius had his wand in his hand. Knowing what was about to happen, Harry disarmed his godfather of his wand before trying to get in the middle to stop the train from hitting his godfather.

With a new wand in his hand he was unable to draw his own. His left hand was pushing Sirius behind him, and he had Sirius's wand in the ready position for a fight.

Never handling Sirius's wand before, Harry didn't notice how chaotic Sirius's wand felt compared to the warmth and calming nature of Harry's Phoenix core wand. Sirius's wand might be as unpredictable as its owner, which was a big drawback if Harry was forced to fight with it. In the best-case scenario, all Harry needed was to use it for a possible shield at the most because he couldn't risk giving it back to Sirius before this fight escalates. Maybe he might give it back if Sirius had to flee, but Harry wanted to try and clear the air first.

John knew something was wrong, as this flood of memories would have brought him to his knees if he wasn't already sitting down. Then the quick movement from his student made it an easy guess as to what happened.

What had happened was something relating to magic cast by Harry's godfather. Reacting on instinct from the brutal mind attack, John pulled his deadly Pit Viper pistol, quickly taking aim at the obvious culprit.

Winston saw it happen in a flash, but there was a second where John hesitated to shoot. It happened when Harry jumped in the middle of this silent standoff. The sudden switch flip in Jonathan made Winston worry, trying to warn him not to do anything rash. "Don't even think about it, Jonathan! Have you learned nothing from your recent troubles?"

A few seconds more of being stuck in the tense standoff, let rationality snap John back to reality. John saw the fear in Harry's eyes, thinking the Baba Yaga was coming for his loved one. Wisely listening to Winston, John holstered his pistol. At the same time, John Wick was ready to take this fight to the streets to punch his opinion of this offense into the face of a privacy-invading wizard.

The sudden flood of painful memories had successfully rattled the normally stoic John Wick. In turn, it only made the demon responsible for revenge and justice inside of John eager and ready to start another fight. John thought he had put that part of him to bed at the end of his big duel for his freedom, but this man had poked the bear inside him far too soon.

This was proof why you should never fuck with someone when you don't fully understand what they are capable of. Harry knew this was crucial, but his godfather had no clue about the true demon inside John Wick lying just under the surface. Lord, help you if you brought that side of him out, evidenced by the mountains of dead bodies he left in his wake.

If it wasn't for John's fearfully desperate student standing between them, John would have never let this offense slide. The offense of going into his mind was close to being paid with John returning the favor. But instead of using magic he didn't possess to invade this man's mind, John would return the offense with a bullet.

Harry had his eyes focused on John being the friend turned foe. In truth, Harry wanted to punch Sirius, but in the moment he chose to try and keep Sirius safe. "John, please." Harry was quick to try and play the relationship card, hoping to gain mercy for his godfather. An idiot who unknowingly made the worst mistake you could ever make.

With that one look into John's head, Sirius now realized this assassin world was beyond all the stories and myths Harry had told him. The same stories he once thought were exaggerated by a silly teen who idolized a man nicknamed the Boogeyman. Sirius truthfully didn't have a high opinion of these assassins, which is why when Harry did his obligated contract killings, Sirius assumed Harry having magic would make them all a cake walk.

What chance did these muggles have against wizards? It wasn't until he was faced with an elite killer with actual murderous intent in his eyes that Sirius realized this wasn't the cakewalk he might have assumed. Before the blowup, Sirius had felt overpowered with his magic, but with Harry taking his wand, there was no way for him to fight back.

At the drop of a hat, this all got very real. What Sirius thought were fanciful stories about John Wick were not fictional or exaggerated stories. He saw firsthand in John's mind that this man didn't have a reason to exaggerate. Sirius confirmed that John had lived through every detail told to him by Harry in the last two years. Even down to the three kills in a bar with a fucking pencil.

It was as clear as crystal that these people were definitely different. They had to be very different from a normal muggle or wizard because they had to be. His thoughts crystallized in a split second when Sirius felt certain his magic alone couldn't save him should John Wick justifiably choose to exact his revenge.

Sirius couldn't help but feel scared, like he was close to soiling his trousers. However, he was feeling a small tinge of pride for Harry. Whatever happened in Harry's training helped foster a cold and lethal mentality in order to help him carry out the near impossible mission of ending Voldemort.

Despite Sirius's pride, it was confirmed that he had found a deeper respect for John. Sirius still wanted to be jealous of John's relationship with Harry. It was only until he knew the whole story that he could understand that their bond was almost entirely unbreakable. 'At least short of John justifiably killing me right now.' Sirius thought as he tried to make peace with maybe dying in the next twenty seconds.

It had to be said that after Sirius saw what Harry was capable of in the Ministry, Sirius thought it was maliciously reckless to teach a teenager the idea of how to commit cold-blooded murder. It just so happened that in Harry's case it turned out to be very necessary, so he was willing to let it slide. Something Sirius should have done earlier before poking around somewhere he shouldn't have been.

Though it didn't explain the memory flashes of John's childhood. What Sirius witnessed in John's mind was brutal, and to say it was child abuse would be an understatement. The moment John was plucked off the streets, he was "enrolled," or more accurately, forced into the Russian assassin version of Hogwarts.

Now that training was brutal and made Harry's training look tame in comparison. All that said, Sirius was shocked to see John not break as a kid, and instead he saw the abusive training work. It worked because John was trained to eventually become the best killer anyone had ever seen.

John's drive to be the best killer possible was a trait he saw the assassin pass down to Harry, who took the concept and ran with it. There was no question Harry was the new magical Boogeyman whispered in hushed tones around their hidden society. Everyone in the Ministry and the public was rightly scared of Harry for killing someone who was considered the most dangerous Dark Lord of all time.

The fear for Harry was because in the magical world the people in charge did not have the means or ability to fight back against Harry Potter the Baby Boogeyman assassin.

The Ministry would also never teach children to kill someone the way Harry did. By handcuffing themselves, it is clear no one but Harry could have gotten close enough to kill Voldemort. Harry had the snake on the ground defenseless, and that still wasn't enough to stop Harry from pumping Voldemort full of bullets until there was no question he was dead. In other words, it was impossible to argue with Harry's results.

People could only estimate or speculate on how Harry pulled it off, but now Sirius knew exactly how and why Harry won the war against Voldemort. It was because of this legendary assassin named John Wick. The same man who Sirius unluckily just so happened to make very angry.

Sirius had been unable to let go of the idea that because he had magic, he had assumed he was naturally superior. It was probably remnants of Sirius's own bigoted parents telling him as much his whole life. Upon seeing John's memories and what this single assassin was capable of, Sirius had never been more wrong in his life.

From what Sirius just witnessed in John's head, he never felt more like an insignificant ant. "I am sorry. Please, I mean it, I am so sorry." Was all Sirius could repeatedly say, hoping that would buy him time to maybe flee with Apparition if he had to? He would need a wand, but if Harry could slide his wand back to him, he would retreat before the situation deteriorated further.

Sirius liked to think he would never run from a fight until he had a crash course in the fact there was no stopping John Wick when he wanted to kill you. Thousands, of people have tried, but they all came up shockingly short in that regard.

In a new haze of reason, John didn't want to start any more conflicts or personal grudges. Still, he had to set a clear boundary for this outsider. A beloved family member of his protege or not, the peek into his mind would have usually been a death sentence to anyone else. Through a clenched jaw, John finally spoke, "The only reason you are still breathing is because of Harry. The fact we both care for him is why I won't kill you, but remember, everything has a price. Never do that again because I have killed a lot of people I liked more, for less."

Sirius frantically nodded as he simultaneously tried to bow his head as a show of contrition. "I am so sorry, but I was trying to understand. I had to understand why Harry talks about you in such glowing affection. I am sorry, but I have to admit I am jealous. My jealousy drove my compulsion to see what he sees in you. Wizards can use mind magic to see your thoughts and memories, and I wasn't thinking when I used it on you. Again, I am so... sorry, but from what I saw, I can summarize that you are an honorable man. You deserve to make me pay for what I did, but I ask, no beg, I beg you for your forgiveness. For that honor, I promise my lips will be forever sealed."

Sirius was trying his best to express a heartfelt apology. Something he almost never did. He had lied through a lot of fake apologies in school, but this was very different. Because with that rush of John's memories, it helped Sirius get educated with everything he needed to know about the famous John Wick.

The man was undeniably special, so it was easy to see why Harry was so defensive about the man who was there for him when it mattered most. It killed Sirius to say, but John was more of a good parental influence than Sirius could ever hope to be. Sirius had to admit it to himself because John had unmistakably taught Harry more about life than anyone else ever could. The discipline alone was something Sirius couldn't teach because he had been born and raised with no discipline whatsoever.

On reflection, Harry could see his godfather was still essentially a man child who was half handcuffed to Dumbledore. The same dusty old moron that forbade Sirius from teaching Harry anything resembling what John taught him.

Regrettably, Sirius had also shared Dumbledore's love delusion, which said that killing people in a war was wrong. Of course Sirius did kill a few Death Eaters, but he was scolded for it every time. Seeing Dumbledore as a father figure made the lesson stick around longer than it should have. At least until the battle at the Ministry where Harry showed him the truth. The truth was you had to stamp out evil for good, which was the only way to ensure peace.

Harry's way of fighting a war included plenty of brutal and bloody killings. The fact that the Death Eaters and Voldemort were finally dead let Sirius take a step back and finally admit he had been fooled by Dumbledore for too long. No matter how uncomfortable the truth was, it was necessary.

Sirius could admit Voldemort needed to die, but he didn't think he could have done what Harry did by killing everyone who dared cross him in the Ministry. Sirius was almost going to let Lucius Malfoy foolishly live before Harry blew a hole through the blonde prick's chest. Nervously gulping Sirius was reminded of the bloody carnage, which was only a fraction of what these other killers were capable of.

The biggest bright side was that while Sirius was in John's head, Sirius was also privy to his godson's training sessions. Feeling what John felt while they trained revealed hints of paternal feelings over Harry. Before the happy ending, the illusion was shattered by John's wife prematurely dying.

Inside the memories, Sirius saw that John somehow felt as if training Harry was going to be similar to having a kid of his own. The relationship they formed instantly was as teacher and student, but within a short time it turned into something different.

As time passed, the lessons and care John showed were more of a father figure but a stern one at that who refused to take it too easy on the kid because Harry needed tough love to do what was necessary in war.

When John had learned what Harry had gone through and how he was essentially at war, John trained Harry even harder as he would his own kid. These two had forged a deep bond in the span of three months that Sirius could never replicate, if he had years.

For John, the training of Harry Potter was probably the few positive memories from his time as an assassin. In fact, Harry was probably going to be a large motivator for John to start his own family. The second he met Helen John, had wanted the traditional white picket fence happy ending.

That experience changed everything when John finally wanted a family. That was the ultimate step he had to overcome to become the man Helen deserved. The man and future father she saw in him. If he didn't lose Helen so tragically young, John felt like they could have had the happy ending they imagined together.

In truth, it felt like fate was giving John a consolation prize in being able to act as a father figure for his student. John might come off cold as ice, but that was because of the ice formed around his heart when his wife died, then it was only aggravated by his dog then being killed.

The dog was because his wife had tried to give him a symbol. It was a plan of Helen's so John could try to raise and love the dog like he would a child. For a short time it worked, but the truth was there was no substitute when John was reunited with Harry. Fighting side by side with his adeptly skilled student filled John with the calming, loving warmth he thought he lost.

That fatherly love for his orphaned student was why John chose not to take this fight any further. Though to everyone here he had the right to kill a man who raped your mind with a secret magic spell. So when John slowly and reluctantly holstered his deadly Pit Viper pistol, everyone was finally able to take a breath of relief as the tension in the air dissipated.

John then sat back down, showing his outburst was done, but almost everyone could understand his point of view. Especially if your life was flashing before your eyes and it was being voyeuristically watched by a stranger.

Hurriedly, the tension relaxed enough for everyone to continue to drink and not worry about another shootout. To stop that outcome from popping up again, Harry held onto Sirius's wand as a precaution before he grabbed his godfather's shoulder and put him back in their chair with authority. Here, Sirius was not an adult. At best, Sirius could be compared to a pet who had to be kept on a leash for his own safety.

Sirius had been able to rejoin the table with Harry holding onto his wand for the time being. It felt like he was a child being scolded by the adults for being a nuisance. They were not wrong, but Sirius had to mind his manners and take great care to not get shot.

At the same time across the table, Caine was still getting used to his eyesight. After so many years, the ex-blind man could have never guessed anyone would be able to talk John down from doing anything. Not even Winston could stop John from shooting a member of the High Table on the sacred grounds of The Continental. This kid though had a pull on John, which was very interesting. "Talk about a drink and a show." Caine said to break the tension.

Some at the table chuckled, mostly the Bowery King, who was now very interested in this teenager who had the biggest stones he had ever seen to make John fucking Wick back down from a fight. "Since we are all acquainted with each other, I feel as if we should open it up for a question, and my question is for you."

The Bowery King pointed at Harry, "What is it that makes you special? You have to have something I am not seeing because I haven't heard much of you, and I consider myself the de facto ear on the streets. I am supposed to hear about everything."

Harry wanted to bring the table back to a calm but lighthearted place. Ignoring Sirius and by keeping a firm grip on his godfather's figurative leash, Harry drew his own wand. With a simple flourish, Harry turned a simple Continental cloth napkin into a transfigured bird that flew around the room before bursting into flames.

The Bowery King thought he had seen it all, but damn was he mistaken. There had been rumblings of people or assassins doing the impossible like John, but he never saw anything like this. It rendered him genuinely speechless before he let out a great laugh, finding his voice again. "Oh, I like you. If you are ever looking for work, I think you would be a perfect right hand to a king."

That perked John up to clear his throat and say, "No." One simple word was all John had to say to let his opinion be known.

Harry didn't think much of the offer because he didn't want to rule over anything. He had only wanted to be himself. It was a fact he takes a few assassin contracts here and there, but they were all simple hits on bad people.

It was the best way to use his new skills to help clean up the streets and not ruffle any feathers. Harry wasn't looking for anything more or to climb the ranks of gang leadership. Harry only wanted to help people, even if it meant killing a lot of bad people.

Caine couldn't stop himself from interjecting himself into the conversation. "You fixed my eyes with magic, but I want to know how you learned to do something so complicated. It goes beyond any playing card magic trick I have ever seen."

Harry was about to answer, but Sirius cut in with the hopes of redeeming himself. "We are wizards. Our magic is real; it is innate; it is not a sleight of hand card tricks. We start going to school at the age of eleven to learn about using our magic to do almost anything we want it to do. Healing spells are simple because they can heal almost all surface wounds. It is something we all learn during our fifth to seventh years. If there is damage deeper than the surface, you run the risk of needing a real expert healer. The expert healers can help fix deeper damage and the more magical types of wounds that need potions or are resistant to magic. The most serious type of those injuries can come from curses, and they can't be healed unless you know the counter curse to reverse the damage."

Sirius took a drink during his history lesson, trying to win the table over by sharing his knowledge. "If it is true that Harry fixed your eyes, I assume there was only surface damage. Something like that could be so simple it could be healed by a sixth-year student. If you had any damage deeper than the surface, then it would require potions or prosthetics. Believe it or not, we have a friend with a fake eye that is enchanted so he can see through walls."

The detailed explanation was a better one than Harry had. With more time passing without incident, Harry watched as more drinks flowed, where Sirius became a little more comfortable and accepting of this odd situation.

Sirius managed to refrain from peacocking again due to his jealous insecurity around John. When he first sat down, Sirius had been acting as a concerned parent, but Harry was as safe as he could be surrounded by these very dangerous killers. It meant Sirius had to change his attitude and approach by helpfully answering questions. All while trying to keep a cool head.

With more time flying by at the table, everyone was in moderately good spirits. In spite of the happy environment, the good mood gave Sirius pause. The pause came from the pain he felt having to admit Harry was unmistakably more assassin than he was a wizard.

Down to the new way Harry confidently carried himself, it was a spitting image of the way these assassins carried themselves. Everything looked like it was all one smooth motion hidden behind a cold look in all their eyes. From the way they cut up a steak or took a drink, it made Sirius look clumsy in comparison.

Sirius noticed his godson was also at ease in a way that probably couldn't be replicated in the magical world where everyone had wanted a piece of him. This hotel was a safe place, and it showed in Harry's body language. Though it did not mean Harry was clueless because he was always ready to jump into action like he did when Sirius made that almost fatal mistake.

The only thing Sirius could do was sit back until Harry opened the conversation up to him by throwing him a few lifelines. The best lifeline came from Harry telling the famous John Wick that Sirius was also into motorcycles. The topic of motorbikes was a passion these two shared and something they could possibly bond over.

Thankfully, Sirius was able to navigate the opening into a back and forth that garnered John's interest, especially when Sirius revealed his motorcycle could fly. A few charms, and Sirius was sure he could get a flying motorcycle for John. It would technically be breaking the statute of secrecy, but Sirius felt like he owed John for being there for Harry in a way he couldn't. It would also serve as an olive branch for him entering John's mind without permission.

Not long after everyone started to get along, the victory celebration eventually ended late in what was considered the afternoon. It was odd, but the group of assassins had been there since a little after sunrise. By the end of their little assassin conclave, any past conflicts were long forgotten.

Mostly aided by Winston convening a small private meeting with John and Sirius separately. The conversation was Winston conveying the idea of John forgiving Sirius, seeing as they both had a claim on Harry.

Winston's side conversation with Sirius, he had to try to convey through experience that John was someone you should never trifle with. Most people never get a second chance, so he had better take it. The hotel manager shared how lucky Sirius was for not catching a bullet for going into the Boogeyman's mind. The two strong and stubborn men had to make up because it would be unfair to Harry to make him pick a side.

Sirius might have been a blowhard, childish, some might even say prick, but he actually bowed his head when he profusely apologized to John. Knowing he screwed up, Sirius would have to do whatever it takes to make it up to a man who literally struck fear in the hearts of every assassin in the world.

It was also self-serving for Sirius in the hopes of not driving Harry away. It was clear his godson was attached to John as close as a student could be. Harry had the kind of admiration where John could do no wrong because the man delivered Harry through the hardest fight of his life with Voldemort. That kind of bond was unbreakable.

Having met John for the first time tonight, it was evident Harry wanted to be just like the man. Without question, Harry modeled himself after John, down to the way he dressed. Although, to be fair, it seemed every assassin seemed to be dressed sharply as some sort of weird dress code to contrast the messy and bloody work they do.

As the beginning of the day ticked away, Harry didn't notice how comfortable he was here, surrounded by assassins, until everyone was going their separate ways. Despite the stressful circumstances of the way the night started, Harry didn't want it to end. It was a contributing reason Harry invited John to come with him back to London. Harry wanted to continue his training.

Harry could also read that John should not be alone because he would no doubt be dwelling on his near-death experience or his dead wife. Harry had to imagine John's wife would have wanted him to live and not die in vain or die by slowly rotting away all alone.

Another factor was that Harry still wanted his friends to meet John. He wanted to put them all in a room together and watch his friends realize this man was the reason they were victorious that night at the Ministry.

He wanted to shed some light on this side of his life so his friends could understand the person he had to become to survive. It would also be humorous for them to meet the person he had hyped up as the most deadly person walking the Earth today. The pile of dead bodies littering Paris from last night was proof of that.

The prankster in him was already giddy at the sight of his friends' faces upon meeting the assassin legend from his stories, which would be hilariously priceless. Though that could wait because John did decide to travel with Harry and Sirius to London. There John could resume Harry's training for the remainder of the school year.

The problem was there were still a few months of Hogwarts left, but Harry argued he wasn't missing anything important. Harry found resuming his assassin training was far more paramount to his education of survival as he dove deeper into this world of world-class assassins.

Time Skip: A Few Months Later

Getting on the Hogwarts Express Ron and Hermione felt nostalgic but regretful Harry was missing their last ride on the iconic train. They were filled with sorrow that the ride wasn't being shared with their best friend. Besides a letter giving confirmation he was okay, they had no clue where Harry was. Could he still be in Paris? Was he back home or possibly visiting America again?

Those questions were talked about extensively on the ride home because, like it or not, Harry was the core of their fun and adventures. Without him, school was monotonous and surprisingly boring. Trouble did truly follow Harry around like his personal shadow, but not all trouble was bad. Sometimes it was the perfect amount of chaos to give life a little spice.

Hermione, Ron, and Neville had a normal ride home, but it would be a lie if they didn't reminisce on that single night that changed their lives forever. From that single night, they all had earned instant fame for standing tall with Harry. That night also came with enough gold to finance the next stage in their lives. The bounties were split three ways, and still each of them came out with six figures.

Using her gold and influence, Hermione had lofty goals of working her way up the Ministry ladder to spark a necessary change in their government.

Ron wanted to use his gold to move out of his family home before starting on the path to become a quidditch star.

Neville, on the other hand, was batting around the idea of becoming a herbology professor to replace Professor Sprout when the time came. Maybe open his own farm and grow all the plants he could ever dream of. There was also a smaller part of him that wanted to follow in his father's footsteps to become an Auror.

Neville would never admit it, but that night in The Ministry gave him a rush like nothing else he ever felt. At the time, he didn't do much in the big battle, though the sense of dealing out justice was intoxicating.

Since that fateful night, his skills with a wand have only improved. The dark cloud of Bellatrix was also gone, which gave him boatloads of new confidence. It made him sure that if he set his mind to it, then he could have made it as an Auror. Now the question was if he wanted to or not.

Many hours later, the train pulled into the station, and the trio of friends disembarked the Hogwarts Express. Not expecting anyone other than their parents, they got the shock of their lives to see Harry in his stylish black suit next to someone they had never seen before.

Without any prompt and a flash of genius, Hermione was the only one who put it together. The way they were dressed and all the way down to the little mannerisms they shared. Like the way they had their right hands loose at their sides but flexed ready to draw their guns and fight at a moment's notice with the smallest provocation.

Noticing the pattern and look, Hermione instantly gasped. It was like she saw a ghost, but if she was honest, she expected the famous "Boogeyman" to be bigger. Although that didn't matter because it was another trait these two shared with Harry of having a smaller and thinner body meant for speed over power. If she didn't know better, they looked as if they could almost be father and son.

Harry wasn't surprised to see Hermione put it together from the look dawning on her face. For his other clueless friends, Harry had to bluntly lay it out. "Good to see all my friends again. Bloody hell, I really did miss you all. I hope school wasn't too boring without me. Before you answer, I have someone I need to introduce you to." With a prolonged pause, he waited for the possibility the others could put it together. "This is John Wick."

Once it was revealed to be out in the open, Ron and Neville almost fainted. In the last two years around the dorm, they had heard many legends and myths about the bloke who killed many men in a bar with a pencil. That was only one of the stories Harry told them in secret, but if half of it was true, then this bloke was scarier than his humble demeanor let on.

John wasn't one for games, but he had to admit it was slightly humorous to see Harry's friends' reactions. He was used to people knowing all about him, but the innocence of a child gave them a far different reaction than his assassin peers. Only hearing stories gave them a different mental picture than the one they were faced with in the flesh.

Harry filled in the rest, knowing John was out of his element. John was an introvert, and it wasn't his style to brag or be so open. "I was hoping you all would join us for dinner. I am sure you all have a few questions." Harry offered in hopes of everyone getting to know each other.

The trio of Hermione, Neville and Ron gulped. Not wanting to anger the world's most deadly assassin in addition to Harry, who looked like this man's spitting image. Down to the lean muscles Harry had grown that were visible through the bulletproof layers of his suit. Trying their best, Harry's friends could only nod at the invitation for what had to be the most important meal of their lives.

Harry could tell when someone was tongue tied, and he understood why. "I promise you will not regret it. If you have any questions, this is your chance to get them answered." Harry could already tell this was going to be a fun laugh watching his different worlds collide with all of his friends in one place.

Ron couldn't help himself when his mouth worked faster than the rational part of his brain. "Harry, this is who you think was scarier than Voldemort? This bloke?"

Unable to stop the smile going across his face, Harry was about to answer confidently. Armed with much more experience with John in learning more hand-to-hand combat, it was obvious there was no range where John wasn't deadly.

John was an apex predator that made a Great White Shark look like a pool toy. Harry could only stare Ron in the eyes and hoped these words would get the point across: "Mate, you have no idea."

End

I know it's a cruel place to end the story, but I wanted to leave it with an open ending. I didn't know where to go from here, and with no clue on how John Wick 5 will go, I will end it here.

I do want to clarify a few things in case I missed something, but Harry is still an assassin. He wants to be the second-best assassin behind John. Also while having the shield of the magical world. There is not much the high table can do against Harry with John and the whole of the wizarding world on his side. He will walk both worlds as a considerable force in both.

If I continued, I would want John to travel to Japan and America to finish training Harry. All under John's supervision so Harry doesn't get in over head while having backup just in case.

During this story, I don't know if everyone agreed with how I portrayed Harry, but I took inspiration from many places. I also gave him lines from some of my favorite movies and TV shows.

I thought of adding more of a Hermione pairing here but decided against it. You can imagine they got closer in the years after fifth year if you want.

I know people wanted Harry to join John during the first movie but decided for him to join the fourth so he could save John at the end.

If you enjoyed this story, please tell me because this was a passion project not related to smut and it took a lot of work. No one has done a crossover like this which gave me an opportunity to have a very original story. I want to see how it was received and maybe if it will inspire more John wick crossovers.

Thank you for reading this story. It's a lot different from what I normally do. It is an idea I had for a while, and I chipped away at it in different parts. I hope it can come together as a seamless story, not too unbalanced or confusing. It turned out longer than I thought, but it was a challenge.

Please review and thank you for reading.