The Wizengamot and the Order of Merlin were composed of mostly the same members.
If you became a member of the Order of Merlin, there was a very high probability that you'd be brought into the Wizengamot as well.
While Wizengamot members weren't necessarily part of the Order of Merlin, all members of the Order were definitely part of the Wizengamot.
The Wizengamot was the main organization responsible for awarding the Order of Merlin.
This organization functioned similarly to a court in the magical world and was occasionally used for academic deliberations.
Right now, John was facing just such a situation. He stood there calmly and confidently.
At a glance, there were around a dozen Wizengamot members present.
The difference was, they were all wearing their medals today.
He spotted a "familiar face"—someone who had supported Harry's innocence during that previous hearing.
The eldest among them was a woman: Griselda Marchbanks, a highly experienced educator.
Unless something unexpected happened, this same elderly lady would be the chief examiner for this year's O.W.L. exams as well.
Not only was she a current examiner, she was also the one to oversee future exams.
John gave the group a slight nod. He didn't sit down, but instead raised an eyebrow and asked, "Are there any questions I should answer now?"
There was a trace of arrogance in his tone, which caused a few people to frown in disapproval.
"Half a year ago, Mr. Democles Belby submitted a paper for publication."
A man with a beard typical of Bollywood films began to speak, "There are a few issues in that paper we need to clarify by questioning the original author."
At least he had some manners—he didn't directly accuse John of piggybacking on the work.
John chuckled lightly. "I'd be happy to clarify things for you."
As his words fell, a middle-aged man wrapped up like a mummy was the first to speak. "This paper mentions the breaking of the Blood Curse and the brewing of the Blood Curse Potion. About the potion itself..."
The man started rambling on and on—he was a Potions Master. He was wrapped up like a dumpling because his body was covered in scabies.
The bearded man grew angry and shouted, "Belmus, stop with your nonsense—get to the point!"
Belmus shrank his neck in, looking quite comical. He mumbled a few words and said, "Fine, fine. I want to ask about the brewing of the Blood Curse Potion—and where the inspiration came from."
When he finished, everyone looked toward John.
John smiled. "I must admit something: when it comes to credit for the Blood Curse Potion, Democles Belby was the one who created the original version."
Belmus and a few others leaned in and whispered to each other—they assumed John was conceding.
"But," John shifted the direction of the conversation without hurry, "when it came to later improvements, I made a few suggestions."
"The potion was initially born from a mutual interest between us. You have to admit—breaking those seemingly unsolvable curses is incredibly satisfying."
As John spoke, he slowly paced back and forth across the room.
From the initial concept of the Blood Curse Potion, to the later improvements based on the Wolfsbane Potion, and finally to the additional changes John made—the expressions of the listeners shifted from initial disdain to eventual seriousness and respect.
When they realized the original version was just an adaptation of the Wolfsbane Potion, even Marchbanks—who had once invigilated Dumbledore's exams—was momentarily stunned.
One by one, they looked down at the paper in their hands—copies made with a duplication spell.
These were all top experts in their fields, and they could tell the only similarity between this and the Wolfsbane Potion was that they shared the same original creator.
This wasn't "just a few small suggestions"—This kid had practically reinvented the entire potion.
After finishing his explanation of the Blood Curse Potion, John looked up at them again.
Belmus's eyes were gleaming with excitement. He turned to the bearded wizard and shouted, "I told you, Bathspa—he's a genius!"
He was a member of the Potions Masters' Guild, like Democles Belby, and had exchanged letters with John before.
He was also the one who most firmly believed this brilliant Hogwarts student wasn't faking any of it.
The bearded Bathspa roared, red-faced, "Shut up!"
He now looked at John with a changed expression and asked seriously, "Regarding the three stages needed to break the Blood Curse—locating it, breaking it, and repairing it—we've never had a practical case before."
"With all due respect," John said, offering a perfectly timed smile, "we do have a practical case."
"Hm?"
A ripple of excitement ran through the audience. Bathspa was no longer calm—his voice even cracked slightly.
"You're saying… you cured someone?"
"To be precise," John nodded slowly, "yes."
That did it—not only Bathspa, but even the centenarian Marchbanks cried out, "We need a witness!"
"Of course."
John hadn't actually wanted Nagini to appear in such a setting, but Democles had secretly written her a letter behind his back.
Upon learning about it, Nagini volunteered to attend.
As his words fell, a woman in a wheelchair was slowly wheeled in from outside.
Her youthful appearance immediately unsettled several people.
Nagini.
Democles straightened his robes and stepped forward with a calm demeanor.
He said to the assembled crowd, "I believe now's the appropriate time for me to speak. This woman is.."
...
Several members began asking Nagini questions one after another. She answered each one calmly and without hesitation.
In the end, after all the examinations, they reached a stunning conclusion:
This woman had once been afflicted by the Blood Curse—And she had been cured.
With the facts laid bare before them, no amount of words could outshine the truth.
Their gaze toward John shifted—from disbelief, to shock, and finally to awe.
A student.
Not only had he taken the lead over Democles Belby, he was also the one who personally carried out the miraculous treatment.
Such intelligence. Such power.
Everyone now looked at him with recognition and admiration.
As for his earlier display of arrogance...
Well—he was a genius. A bit of pride was only natural.
What's youth without a little fire?
"John Wick."
The bearded man, Bathspa, stood up, followed by the rest.
With a tone full of respect, Bathspa said, "Your discovery has unraveled what was once thought impossible in the magical world."
"Mr. Wick, I can assure you that you will receive the recognition of the Order of Merlin."
With that, Bathspa bowed his head in deference, and the others followed suit.
Marchbanks murmured under her breath, "The new star of Hogwarts—so dazzling, so brilliant... the future is bright.."
Having spent a lifetime proctoring O.W.L. exams, Marchbanks was particularly looking forward to this year's.
She hoped to witness someone even more monstrously gifted than Dumbledore in his youth.
After today, the name John Wick would spread like wildfire.
No longer confined to the walls of Hogwarts.
The only pity was that the target demographic for the Blood-Curse Potion would never be as large as that of the Wolfsbane Potion.
The blood-curse itself was far less widespread.
Even so, it was enough to merit a Second-Class Order of Merlin.
More importantly, this young man—he was so young.
He was about to become the youngest recipient of the Order of Merlin in history!
The date for the ceremony was quickly set—faster than even Democles Belby's.
Partly because the potion had fewer users, and partly because the review had already taken half a year.
...
John gave Nagini another examination to check on her recovery.
"Before March, you'll be completely back to normal."
"You should finish your recovery at the branch location first," John advised after confirming her condition was improving well.
Nagini smiled. "If my appearance can help you earn the Order of Merlin, then I think it's worth it."
John glanced sideways at Democles Belby, who was striking a rather flamboyant pose, leaning on his cane.
"The Order of Merlin doesn't compare to you," John shook his head and said helplessly, "That lunatic Voldemort's still after you."
"Why? Have you fallen for me?" Nagini placed her hand on his cheek.
"You bring me recks and racks of Gold Gallions in profit from our American branch, that's why," John said deadpan.
"Pfft~! Hahaha~ He probably thinks I'm dead," Nagini laughed lovingly, then said with a playful wink. "He must think you killed me."
John had destroyed the fragment of Voldemort's soul that resided in Nagini's body. As far as Voldemort would be able to tell, that should only have been possible if Nagini were dead.
That's why the Death Eaters who had broken into the branch store earlier hadn't recognized her identity.
"We can't guarantee he won't try something else," John muttered, wary. Having seen Voldemort come back from the dead once, he was well aware of how unpredictable the Dark Lord could be.
He pushed Nagini's wheelchair into the Ministry's main atrium, only to be stopped by Johnson, who gave him a stern look.
"Student," Johnson said, "you ought to be back at school."
Nagini tugged on John's sleeve and motioned for him to lean down. Mischievously, she whispered, "Johnson's your admirer. If he finds out who you really are, that'll be something."
Her time abroad recovering had clearly brought out her more playful side, softening her usual gentle big-sister demeanor.
John shrugged. A towering tough guy like Johnson discovering that the person he looked up to was just a student really would be amusing.
Johnson pushed Nagini's wheelchair away, all the while keeping a vigilant eye on the surroundings.
Anyone whose gaze lingered on Nagini for more than three seconds was immediately met with his deadly glare.
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