"May I bring a friend along?" Ethan asked, imdiately thinking of Luna.
Alia replied warmly: "Of course. Each Portkey can transport three people, so you can go with your good friends."
"Thank you."
Hearing this, Ethan finally broke into a genuine smile. This pure expression made Alia pause slightly. Bathed in the light streaming down from the courtroom do, Ethan appeared very bright and righteous. As if he were the chief judge of this trial rather than the accused.
There was no way to connect him with the formidable speaker from earlier.
Beside him, Dumbledore looked at Ethan's remarkably gentle smile and thought with curiosity, imdiately perking up with interest. A friend that Ethan would actively invite... who could it be?
Harry? Ron? Or the equally studious Hermione?
Although Ethan wasn't a loner at school, most students maintained a respectful distance while observing from afar. He was also quite popular in Ravenclaw. After all, Ethan had single-handedly boosted the house points through the roof.
But due to Ethan's unique way of thinking that no one could follow, he didn't really have any close friends. Dumbledore had observed and rembered all of this. He was very concerned about the young wizards' ntal health.
Who would have thought that quietly, he had already made a close friend he could visit art exhibitions with... Ah, youth! How wonderful.
Dumbledore chuckled softly, earning a disdainful side-glance from Professor McGonagall.
On the other side, Ethan hadn't noticed his headmaster's subtle curiosity. He reached out to take the Portkey and the goblin exhibition ticket and examined it with fascination.
This Portkey was itself an exquisite work of art. It was oval-shaped, palm-sized, and looked like an elegant badge. Carved inside was a tall tower, and through an open window, you could see a miniature blonde girl.
Wearing a beautiful dress, she was humming while combing her smooth, silky long hair. When Ethan stared too long, the blonde girl shyly turned away and ran off with little tapping steps.
Such exquisite craftsmanship...
This ticket alone could be kept as a valuable collectible. There was less than a week until Christmas. Just thinking about soon eting Luna, enjoying Christmas dinner together in a warm ho, and visiting the art exhibition together made Ethan's mood soar with excitent.
Occasionally living a normal life wouldn't be bad for his health either.
After bidding farewell to the Head of the Departnt of Magical Law Enforcent, Ms. Alia, Ethan, Professor McGonagall, and Headmaster Dumbledore were escorted out of the Ministry by Minister Fudge.
Only after erging from the green Floo flas and standing on the sunlit street with Muggles coming and going did Professor McGonagall feel a sense of reality.
Ethan had actually co out completely unhard. Actually, not unhard. He had co out with his pockets full.
Not only had he received a full thirteen hundred Galleons in compensation, severely bleeding the Ministry dry, but he had also gotten the judge who was supposed to try him removed from office, her future ruined and reputation destroyed. She might even face imprisonnt.
Win big or lose everything, right?! What a complete reversal!
She had heard of this official nad "Dolores Umbridge." Before today, she was the head of the Improper Use of Magic Office, exploiting those below while fawning over those above. By cozying up to pure-blood families and bootlicking Minister Fudge, she had thrived in the Ministry.
Yet she was destroyed in an instant. Making an example of her. Probably after today, those officials connected to pure-blood families would have to keep their tails between their legs and act low-key.
Ethan... was truly remarkable.
He had even earned praise from the Head of the Departnt of Magical Law Enforcent. Ms. Alia was countless tis more reputable than that pink-clad forr official. She could see what a brilliant path lay ahead for Ethan.
Well, as long as Ethan didn't go astray...
Professor McGonagall glanced sideways. But she found that Ethan, who had just fought a great battle, wasn't celebrating or cheering. Instead, he was looking down, seriously thinking about sothing.
Professor McGonagall asked with concern: "What's wrong, Mr. Vincent? Is sothing the matter?"
"I'm wondering, if Headmaster Dumbledore hadn't appeared at the end, could I still have achieved this result?" Ethan slowly spoke.
He looked up at the stunned Professor McGonagall, his eyes blazing with determination. "I think, probably not. My strength isn't enough yet. My art isn't sufficient to stir up storms in the world, to make the whole world know my na... to make them regret not listening seriously to what I had to say back then."
Ethan wasn't in a hurry. Wasn't Hogwarts quite spacious? He was only in his first year and had plenty of ti to continue improving his abilities.
Turbulent tis create legends. And such tis would arrive in the not-too-distant future.
Voldemort, I'm waiting for you.
Professor McGonagall stared at him wordlessly. Child, please don't be quite so eager, she thought desperately. My heart simply cannot withstand this level of academic fervor.
In her decades of teaching, she had never seen this kind of forward-looking quality in any first-year wizard! No. Maybe the Dark Lord when he was young...
Professor McGonagall shuddered violently, suppressing her thoughts. How could she compare Ethan to the Dark Lord... Although Ethan was a bit precocious and exceptionally gifted, he was still a good child at heart... right?
"Tell about what happened in the challenge. I haven't congratulated you on winning first place yet, Mr. Vincent," Professor McGonagall tried to change the subject.
Sure enough, when talking about his achievents, Ethan's eyes imdiately lit up. He responded enthusiastically: "Sure!"
He really is still just a child.
Professor McGonagall couldn't help but smile with relief.
Ethan began excitedly: "First I used a newly painted artwork called 'Hell Cerberus' to hunt down Ilvermorny, then I started a battle royale ga in Herpo's mansion..."
Professor McGonagall's expression froze: "..."
Maybe you should just talk to about your great aspirations instead.
Back at Hogwarts, the contestants who went to participate in the challenge had returned, but Ethan was nowhere to be seen. It seed like a very serious accident had occurred. The returning contestants all remained silent, their expressions extrely grave.
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione cried out with tears in her eyes: "Maybe, while we're peacefully enjoying our al, Ethan encountered large beasts in the forest, fled in panic to the mansion, only to et terrifying murderers, got blown to pieces, and can never recover!"
Harry looked at her strangely: "..." Wait, why does this sound familiar sohow?
"Maybe Ethan was just held up by sothing else..." he consoled.
But everyone knew in their hearts that contestants who didn't return were injured and went to St. Mungo's. Otherwise, they couldn't possibly have committed so cri during the competition and been sent to the Ministry, could they? How was that possible?
Just then...
"Hoot hoot hoot!"
A chorus of calls rang out. Students looked up in surprise to see a large flock of owls flooding in! Like hail falling, they dropped newspapers everywhere!
"The Daily Prophet?" A student picked one up in confusion. "Don't they usually publish during the day?"
"The headline reads... 'The Missing One? The Unknown Secrets Behind the First-Year Champion of the Secret Realm Tracking Challenge'..."
"First place is... Ethan Vincent?!"
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