As he spoke, Ethan extended his pale hand toward Wallace.
Wallace stared, frozen. "Ah—ahhhhh!" He let out a high-pitched scream and instinctively tried to back away. But fear locked up his limbs, and his left foot caught his right. He tumbled to the ground, the back of his head smacking the bulletin board with a bang. Stars danced before his eyes, and he groaned in pain.
"Haha, I was just joking. Why are you so worked up?" Ethan flicked his wand, letting his magically lengthened hair snap back to normal and removing the "Door in the Pupil" rune he had stuck to his forehead. A bright, innocent smile lit his face.
Wallace couldn't speak. This… this was worse than running into that ghost from the second-floor bathroom. Why did this brat show up in the Great Hall so early? rlin, he'd been caught adjusting the poster by a real clubhead demon.
"S-sorry, Mr. Vincent... I just wanted to move your poster a bit... It was blocking my poster. I'll leave right now!"
Ethan looked down at the older boy, who was shaking like a leaf and sprawled on the floor like a deflated puddle. He tilted his head, confused.
I didn't do anything, did I? Just ca to greet him.
How did he get so scared? Gryffindors these days...
eting Wallace's terrified gaze, Ethan grinned: "Oh, I thought it was sothing serious."
Ethan glanced over at the glowing club poster, which illuminated the whole board and practically erased every other club's announcent.
"It is blocking so things," he conceded cheerfully. "That's easy to fix. Just move the poster sowhere else."
Move to where, exactly?! Wallace cringed, expecting Ethan to viciously tear down his Gobstone Club's poster.
Instead, he heard a gentle rip. The Morning Star Club poster peeled away, leaving behind sticky web-like threads clinging to the bulletin board.
Wallace stared, rembering how he'd just spent minutes scratching at the thing. Now his fingertips itched.
But Ethan was only taking down his own poster, just because of one offhand comnt.
He'd rather move his own poster than let mine show. What a kind person! Wallace felt a wave of guilt. He'd misjudged his gentle junior.
But then...
Ethan flicked his wand. The top of the bulletin board fra stretched as if made of rubber. With a snap, he positioned his club poster right at the very peak.
Wallace's jaw dropped.
Suddenly, the Morning Star Club poster sat like a king at the head of the table, radiating dazzling light that made every other notice blend into the background—especially Wallace's poor Gobstone Club, now nearly invisible at the bottom.
Ethan clapped his hands, cheerful and pleased. "There! I've wanted to do that for ages. If everyone's posters can't fit, why not make the board bigger?"
Wallace gaped at the weirdly elongated, impossibly warped notice board. Trust Ethan to pull sothing this mad! Played like a fiddle again!
He knelt on the floor in defeat, letting out a silent wail.
Ethan leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Say, you wouldn't be interested in my club, would you?"
"What? No, I…" Wallace started to refuse but then had a flash of inspiration. If he joined Ethan's club, he'd have an excuse to be among the assessnt students and maybe even poach Ethan's audience for the Gobstone Club!
"Y-yes! I'm sowhat interested," Wallace managed, forcing a smile. No harm in joining—he'd just fail the trial and be eliminated.
Of course, he had no idea how much Ethan's Sen Castle had already evolved...
…
After breakfast, Ethan strolled casually to Defence Against the Dark Arts. The classroom was empty except for faint humming coming from the professor's adjoining office.
Ethan took out a pair of Mandrake-root earplugs and stuffed them in. Instantly, the world fell into peaceful silence.
Under the chandelier of white dragon bones, Ethan focused on moulding the new castle model out of serpent saliva clay, hands moving in smooth, practised rhythm. Ti blurred by.
Students began to fill the classroom, snapping Ethan out of his focused trance. He rolled his neck, pulled out his earplugs, and looked up—eting Professor Lockhart's hopeful stare. The man hovered nearby, aching to bask in Ethan's popularity but not quite bold enough to approach.
Ethan eyed him and looked away, not interested in that lodrama. His attention slid to the lecture desk, where a large round-topped cage sat draped beneath a cloth. Occasional sharp, noisy sounds ca from inside.
So it's still the Cornish Pixies? Couldn't find a new trick for the Slytherins and Gryffindors, so now it's our turn? What a lack of imagination.
He pulled out his sketchbook and began to draw, pencil flashing over paper. It's fine, Professor Lockhart. I'll bring the innovation you lack.
The bell chid. Class officially began.
Professor Lockhart bounced behind the podium, holding up one of his books. On the cover, a golden-haired man identical to Lockhart grinned at the class. Lockhart himself flashed his dazzling white teeth.
Ethan amused himself by ntally selling Lockhart's smile as toothpaste, not shampoo. But, to be fair, he'd read the full set of Defence Against the Dark Arts textbooks. Lockhart's adventure stories were genuinely engaging; if you could experience them firsthand, it would be even better.
There were tales of phone booth werewolf duels, forbidden flirtations with vampire beauties, and heroic feats in cursed villages. Entertaining, if nothing else.
As Ethan drifted in his thoughts, Lockhart finished his grandly embellished introduction.
"—but I don't often ntion these honours, because I didn't banish the Bandon Banshee just by smiling!"
Soone near Ethan snickered. "He's quite entertaining, isn't he?" A Hufflepuff boy had leaned over.
Ethan just humd.
"I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley. Nice to et you, Ethan." Justin nervously offered a handshake, beaming when Ethan gave his hand an easy shake.
Justin eyed the cage on the desk. "I wonder what Professor Lockhart's brought today—is it sothing fierce?"
Fierce? Ethan's pencil never paused. If Cornish Pixies are fierce, my Cerberus must be an Old One from the depths.
Justin's voice wasn't quiet, and Lockhart, ever attuned to attention, perked up. "Aha! I hear soone enquiring after my 'teaching aids' for today!"
He tapped the cage with blatant pride, grinning as students leaned away, faces a blend of fear and curiosity.
Lockhart puffed himself up. "Yes, they are very, very dangerous creatures! One careless mont and your life may be forfeit! In fact, they're even more dangerous than Mr. Ethan Vincent's club assessnt!"
A collective hiss swept the room.
Ethan's eyebrow arched high. More dangerous than my club assessnt? That's a bold statent.
He finished his latest sketch, grinning to himself.
Let's see if Lockhart's ready for a real surprise.
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