Blimey-who read this shit for fun?
He flipped to the next page.
"-as I made my way down to the dragon's den, nestled far below the ground we normally strode upon, I realized that I was alone. But no matter. It was safer this way. The wasn't a need for someone to get hurt. He could handle this himself-LIKE HELL HE COULD! This bloody little fraud couldn't spell his way outta a moistened paper bag!"
John shoved the book across the house dorm's main room, merely watching as it slide across the table and over the edge.
The mage rolled his eyes, taking out another class's work instead.
But too bloody bad he didn't get far.
His gaze went up in an instant, the door opening and letting in the foreign yet familiar faces of the rest of the Slytherin house students.
They were cackling something evil.
John did not want to know.
"-did you see his face?-"
"-bloody moron can't work a curse correctly-"
"-hah! Serves em right to be caught-"
"-you really think he had a hand in doing it?-"
"-I don't see why not, but he probably wouldn't have the stomach of doing it himself-"
"-Nobody liked the bloody creature anyways-"
John forced his head down as they made their way up the stairs, laughing at whatever poor schmuck was on the receiving end of their wrath this time-focusing his gaze on his new textbook.
-A mature Mandrake is the more sought after regarding the plant. The Mandrake's leaves, when collected, purified, and curated, can relieve up three fully grown victim of complete paralysis. With proper procedures and treatment, the stricken may fully heal within a 48 hour duration of time-
The blond snuck a glance up, breathing out a sigh of relief when seeing the area clear.
But something tingled in the corner of his mind, making him pause and look around the common room closer.
He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a little anticlimactic when finding nothing.
Absentmindedly kicking around the fool of teacher's 'educational textbook', John didn't recon that he could return to studying as effectively as he did prior.
He shrugged.
Closing the book(and begrudgingly picking up the fallen), he packed them away in his bag and went to find something else to do until curfew.
To his dismay, he couldn't sleep.
He had tossed, and he had turned.
But under his skin his nerves were bundles, coiled and ready to spring him into action.
His window was drawn and opened, letting the night's cool breeze filter through the room and moonbeams light the dark area.
John felt his features steel and rose upright.
There wasn't any point in trying to catch sleep when he knew it would never come to him.
The mage prompted to rise from his bed, cleaning himself up and readying for the next few days of an assured hell.
Not bothering to fix up his tie, he made his way downstairs and waited...for something...
He paced as a shiver ran down his arms and crawled up and along his spine.
YOU ARE READING
John Constantine and The Overgrown Serpent
Fanfiction(I do NOT own John Constantine nor Harry Potter. I do NOT own most images or characters. I DO own the plot and the occasional hand drawn art) He was still here... Time flew and he was "12" now... With his new life, he didn't have anytime to himself...
