Sean felt dizzy and lightheaded, so angry his blood rushed to his head.
For a mont, he couldn't tell whether Ethan was seriously answering his question or just toying with him.
"Second."
Ethan's voice continued.
He extended his second finger, and his cobalt-blue eyes suddenly flashed with coldness.
"Why would you think I wouldn't fight back?"
As his words fell, an intimidating aura swept out from Ethan!
His cobalt-blue eyes stared at Sean, flashing with an abnormal, dangerous gleam!
The air around Ethan distorted.
Like refraction on soap bubbles, it showed constantly shifting colors, very eerie.
The fireplace flas swayed without wind, crackling loudly.
A pungent sll mixing nuts and minerals perated the common room, diluting the fragrance of food.
This was magical power running wild.
Everyone felt it—their hair stood on end, like the precursor to a thunderbolt.
Even Professor Flitwick composed his expression and instinctively gripped his wand.
And Sean, facing this fury directly, had his pupils contract and body tense as a bone-chilling sensation crawled up his spine!
Sean, who had always only known how to study hard, realized for the first ti that there was more than just cleverness in this world.
There was also the judgnt of iron fists.
"—What do you want to do?!" Sean shouted in terror, his voice cracking. "This is Hogwarts!"
Sean never would have imagined that he would actually be threatened by an eleven or twelve-year-old boy!
Losing his composure in front of ordinary students and society mbers!
What utter humiliation!
More shaful than not getting first place on an exam.
The atmosphere froze.
However, the next second, Ethan suddenly laughed.
Like spring wind lting a frozen lake.
This beautiful smile made that madness and coldness disappear without a trace.
"Senior, why are you so nervous? I'm just joking."
Ethan raised his hand, patting the frozen Sean like a buddy, saying slowly, "I'm a very good-tempered person. I don't offend others unless they offend first."
"Senior, you wouldn't want to beco like Mr. Malfoy, would you?"
At the ntion of this na, everyone imdiately pictured the little blonde like a frostbitten eggplant.
Since returning from ho, Malfoy had beco like a different person.
He no longer looked down on people, no longer constantly caused trouble for Gryffindor.
Even the recent hot topic of "Harry being selected as a Quidditch player" only made him watch enviously from afar.
He no longer shouted things like "This isn't fair! I'll tell my father!"
To make soone's deeply ingrained personality change so drastically in such a short ti...
Everyone couldn't help but shudder, not daring to imagine what kind of blow Malfoy had experienced.
And all of this was caused by Ethan.
Looking at the smiling Ethan, Sean felt like his throat was being gripped, unable to breathe.
He couldn't help but step back two paces, looking at Ethan as if viewing a non-human creature.
Unable to understand, unable to accept.
How could such a person exist in this world?!
At this mont, Professor Flitwick's voice rang out, smoothing things over, "Alright, alright, everyone! It's ti to rest!"
"Mr. Vincent, would you still be willing to give us a small demonstration?" Professor Flitwick asked carefully. "Or would you prefer to rest early?"
"It's fine, I still have energy."
Ethan turned and took out his wand.
With a wave, the wand transford into a pure and beautiful paintbrush.
"Perfect Transfiguration! I must give Ethan five points on behalf of Professor McGonagall!"
Professor Flitwick shouted excitedly, his eyes sparkling.
Even he or Professor McGonagall had rarely mastered such skilled and exquisite techniques in their first year.
"Believe , if not for worrying about your safety, Professor McGonagall would definitely give you points personally."
Next, Ethan perford Avis for them.
Of course, it was the non-attacking version.
He wasn't crazy enough to barbecue in the common room.
"Wow—"
The students all looked with amazed fascination at the golden light flowing in mid-air.
Golden birds trailing long tail feathers, flapping their wings like tassels or brilliant shooting stars, circled among everyone as if they were in the cosmos.
Sean watched this scene with a gloomy expression.
He couldn't deny Ethan's magical talent, which made him even more annoyed!
"Just a poor nobody, I shouldn't get angry with this kind of person..." Sean muttered through gritted teeth. "I'll definitely make him see just how big the gap between us is!"
Hearing this, Prefect Robert and next prefect candidate Penelope exchanged glances.
The latter showed a hint of worry, saying, "Umm… he won't have problems, will he?"
After all, Sean was still an excellent, outstanding upperclassman.
Robert smiled slightly: "Which 'he' are you referring to?"
Penelope was stunned.
After dropping this ambiguous remark, Robert turned and walked away.
Like other students, he went to Ethan's side to chat enthusiastically.
Leaving Penelope alone to ponder the aning of those words.
—In the end, Professor Flitwick gave Ethan a total of twenty points.
Just enough to offset Professor McGonagall's deduction.
When asked, it was just favoritism.
...
anwhile, in the Hogwarts Headmaster's Office.
Portraits of past headmasters hung on the walls, with light snoring sounds—so pretending to sleep while actually eavesdropping.
The fiery phoenix Fawkes perched on his roost, making soft trilling sounds.
"Tea, coffee, or hot milk?"
Dumbledore looked at the worried, tall, thin woman before him with a smile, his eyes twinkling playfully behind his half-moon spectacles.
"I'm not here for small talk, Professor Dumbledore."
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips in dissatisfaction, saying urgently:
"As I told you, that child, Ethan Vincent... carries a natural darkness."
"His thinking is different from normal people. Those terrifying paintings—oh, you saw them too, didn't you, Professor Dumbledore? Those paintings hanging in the corridors."
"Yes, I saw them. I even stopped to admire them for quite a while."
Dumbledore said leisurely while adding cube after cube of sugar to his hot milk.
"What I noticed was Mr. Vincent's superb painting skills. You saw the first painting, didn't you? I think it must have depicted the savage giants from ancient tis who lived like beasts. Tsk tsk, how lifelike."
"But!" Professor McGonagall retorted, "His paintings have gone astray! They cause harm to others!"
Professor McGonagall still rembered that imrsive, beautiful illusion.
She had seen the happy family she had always dread of—so warm, so within reach.
One could easily beco deeply trapped in it.
At that ti, what did the great white wizard Albus Dumbledore see?
Professor McGonagall didn't know.
But when she ca to her senses, she found that Headmaster Dumbledore still hadn't snapped out of it for a long ti—
Or rather, he was willing to imrse himself in it, unwilling to return to reality.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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