Before going to open the door and bring warmth to the three-headed dog Fluffy, Ethan still needed to practice this chain spell.
"Practice brings true knowledge. Unfortunately, this is the civilized year 1991, and there are no readily available poacher gangs in the Forbidden Forest to practice on."
Ethan murmured, quite regretfully.
He had read in history textbooks about that glorious period a hundred years ago when Phineas Black served as Hogwarts headmaster. During goblin rebellions, students would use their breaks to eliminate spiders and mbers of the Serpent's Hand. Campus life was very colorful and diverse.
It was also during that ti that chain spells still held a place, taught as a very effective counterattack thod. They were just too effective, adding insult to injury for the wizarding world's already sparse population. As a result, they were quietly banned by an invisible hand, slowly fading from public mory.
It was an ancient art. Who couldn't say that Ethan was an inheritor of intangible cultural heritage? Enduring hardships, all for the sake of passing down wizarding traditional virtues. How noble indeed.
Another day of being moved by himself.
That night in the tutoring classroom, the remains of practice dummies lay scattered everywhere. Arms and severed legs were strewn about, with charred holes covering chests and skulls. Professor Quirrell stood among the wreckage, barely breathing, as if he had been thoroughly ravaged.
ntal torture was far worse than physical assault.
In just over a week, the soul magic that Quirrell originally thought would take a full year to learn had been completely mastered by Ethan. Now, he was learning spells that might be used in the challenge tournant.
What terrifying speed was this?! There wasn't a drop of blood in those veins... it was all Felix Felicis, wasn't it?! Without any logical explanation, there were no logical explanations.
Quirrell had progressed from initial shock, jealousy, envy, and hatred to "I'm just worthless!" Finally evolving to the current "Hehe, I'm just worthless." Complete surrender.
Just let Ethan and Voldemort sit at the sa table. I'll be the chair, Quirrell thought magnanimously. He felt that having Ethan's noble rear end sit on his spine would allow the concentration of wisdom to flow into him.
"Mr. Vincent, there's a very great wizard who wants to et you. Would you be willing to go to the Hog's Head pub this weekend?"
"Believe , that lord can definitely bring you greater power!"
Voldemort's urgency was increasing. With each bit of progress Ethan made, his value skyrocketed. At the sa ti, his danger level also shot up. Voldemort had gone from initially thinking, "this child is like ," to now "Those not of my kind must be eliminated."
If he couldn't join the glorious evolution together... then he would be the most terrifying threat in the future. It had even made the master montarily ignore Harry Potter. After all, the forr had only deflected an Avada Kedavra curse, while the latter could truly use the Killing Curse as a basic attack in the future. Even more terrifying.
Hearing Quirrell's invitation, Ethan didn't answer imdiately. He held his light brown wand loosely, his cobalt-blue eyes casually watching the mory threads swirling around the wand tip.
After a long mont, he slowly spoke: "Professor Quirrell, I'm curious... are there wizards in the wizarding world who cast spells through faith?"
Quirrell paused. Though he didn't know why Ethan would ask such a question, at least it was a normal question. Quirrell nodded: "Yes, there are."
"In Celtic culture, wizards worship nature spirits and pray to them for power before each spellcasting. Various other true gods, like rlin, or evil gods, like the Gorgon, all have believers."
Ethan: "What if mory magic was used to modify their mories, replacing the object of worship with another deity?"
As Quirrell's face gradually went blank, Ethan raised his head and said with a smile: "In that case, how would the magic they cast through faith change?"
Quirrell stood speechless, then played his escape card and ran away without looking back.
Watching his fleeing figure, Ethan snorted and waved his hand, returning the mory threads to the toads. How could a bright and upright little wizard like himself possibly join such a terrible dark evil force?
Poor Quirrell, thinking he was about to reach the pinnacle of life. In reality, he wasn't far from sudden death.
"Reparo."
Ethan turned his wand, and like a pair of invisible hands, the classroom wreckage was restored to its original positions.
These past few days, after Quirrell's tutoring ended, he would stay behind alone to continue practicing chain spells. The benefit of evening tutoring was being able to brazenly ignore curfew and stay as late as he wanted.
However, sotis, to practice the Disillusionnt Charm, Ethan would walk invisibly through the corridors, smiling as he watched the patrolling prefects from behind. He just didn't know why lately, the prefects had been patrolling in groups of twos and threes, nervously holding their wands, as if there were so invisible monster in Hogwarts.
Hogwarts was the safest place, though, Ethan thought.
When passing by the prefects, he would lightly scratch their wrists with his cold fingernails, listening to their screams of terror.
At this mont, Ethan pointed his wand at the three dummies before him, his gaze blazing as he called out: "Diffindo!"
"Bang!"
Three crimson spells shot simultaneously from Ethan's wand tip. Like a split stream, Ethan couldn't help but associate. The middle one accurately hit the dummy, but the other two grazed past the dummy and struck the tables and chairs behind. Wood chips flew everywhere, and dust filled the air.
If this classroom didn't have a silencing charm, people might think there were trolls doing demolition work in Hogwarts.
"Still need more practice," Ethan murmured.
Controlling three spells simultaneously was very difficult, like playing piano with the right hand while practicing calligraphy with the left hand while doing squats with a piano on your back. Without the "Budding Scholarship" skill, Ethan couldn't spare the ntal energy to control them.
His soul extraction magic was already perfected. What remained was to subdue, or rather "ta," the three-headed dog. Ethan naturally knew about the thod of listening to music to fall asleep, but using this "cheating" thod would make the extracted soul fragnts incomplete, affecting the final artwork's quality.
If he was going to paint, he had to paint perfectly. This challenge tournant was an important international event, a good opportunity to promote himself. Ethan vowed to give the other contestants an unforgettable experience.
"Continue practicing."
Ethan repaired the dummies and cast the chain spell again. His attitude was focused and serious, without a trace of restlessness.
The three-headed dog Fluffy had been living very peacefully lately. Though it had moved from Hagrid's warm little nest to this dark, cold, square little space, it had also received several tis more food as a result.
Their caring guardian often brought bucket after bucket of fresh raw at, free-range chickens, and spicy thirst-quenching water that he called "Brandy." He would also stroke their heads while wiping away tears, muttering "you've suffered, my babies."
Making them gain two sizes recently. After all, except for three little intruders and one foul-slling human who had intruded once, no one had co to disturb them since. They really hoped this happy life could continue forever.
Deep night. Fluffy rested its head on its large paws, snoring happily, calculating when their guardian would co to feed them.
"BANG!!"
Suddenly, the door was violently thrown open! The door rebounded against the wall with a loud crash! Startling them to leap up, staring drowsily and confused at the person standing in the doorway.
Ethan: "What a coincidence, you're not sleeping either."
Ethan excitedly grinned and raised his wand toward the three-headed dog that was beginning to growl.
Since you're not sleeping, let's have a friendly "duel"!
[Chapter Complete]
***
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