Ethan is Deranged Enough to Not Even Spare the Living Painting

Ethan pondered this, planning to ask about it tomorrow.

As it happened, their first class tomorrow was Charms, taught by the Head of Ravenclaw, Professor Flitwick.

With his plan set in his mind, Ethan let out a massive yawn, rubbing his eyelids that were threatening to stick together.

He was simply too exhausted.

He had originally intended to write a letter to Luna the moment he arrived at Hogwarts, but he had been defeated by the endless stairs and the nonsensical riddles of Ravenclaw.

It was a battle he couldn't win no matter how hard he tried.

He would just have to write it tomorrow morning instead.

Dragging his weary body, Ethan didn't even have the energy to admire the solemn and elegant furnishings of the common room. He stumbled into his dormitory, forced himself to wash up, and collapsed into bed while the other students were still out and about.

He slept without a single dream.

The next morning.

[My best friend Luna:]

[I'm sorry, I should have written to you last night, but I was truly exhausted. Hogwarts is quite a challenge for a young wizard as clueless as I am.]

[I received the manuscript for the new issue of The Quibbler; the content is as fascinating as ever.]

[All sorts of ideas are already forming in my mind, and I hope they will open people's eyes.]

[By the way, I was sorted into Ravenclaw.]

[Although it was a bit unexpected, I quickly realized it suits me perfectly. The people here are so eloquent and talented; I absolutely love it.]

[I believe a clever young witch like you will surely be sorted into Ravenclaw as well. I can't wait for us to be classmates.]

[When that happens, we can do so many things together and bring so many brilliant ideas to life!]

[A heads-up: I might be writing to you quite often, so please don't find me annoying. After all, all sorts of novel things happen at Hogwarts every single day.]

[Looking forward to your reply, Ethan Vincent]

[P.S. It's a real shame I can't make it to your family's Roasted Diricawl Feast. Just hearing your description, I can already imagine how delicious it must be.]

Reviewing the letter in his hand one last time, he made sure there were no issues.

Ethan nodded, carefully folded the letter, and the corners of his mouth curled up involuntarily.

On the windowsill, Luna's owl, Carrot, tilted its head to look at him, its round, golden-yellow eyes like two buttons, exuding a sense of clarity.

Ethan reached out his hand, and it affectionately rubbed its head against him, lifting a small claw with the air of a seasoned professional.

Having delivered letters so many times, it had come to treat Ethan as its second master.

"What are you looking at? You're smiling so happily."

A resentful voice rang out.

Ethan turned his head to see Michael sitting at the head of his bed, hair disheveled like Sadako.

That haggard face and those thick dark circles made it look as if he had been out binge-drinking all night.

Ethan advised him awkwardly, "It's better to go to bed early at night, otherwise you won't grow tall."

Hearing this, Michael widened his eyes, looked at Ethan in disbelief, and shouted:

"Go to bed early?? Do you think I don't want to go to bed early!"

As if a floodgate had been opened, Michael began to complain incessantly.

"Do you know what time we got into the common room last night? Almost one o'clock!"

"After you left, everyone couldn't focus at all. It wasn't until the door knocker changed the question at twelve o'clock that we finally managed to answer it!"

Even though Ethan had already gone inside, his presence still lingered in everyone's minds like a nightmare.

It was simply toxic.

On another bed, Mandy Brocklehurst nodded, slowly putting on his thick glasses; he looked like an old man in his seventies or eighties.

Since Ravenclaw had the fewest students, every dormitory was a triple room.

The space was quite large, and everyone had their own small area with an independent study desk.

Ethan had already made his plans.

Once he earned some money, he would definitely buy lots and lots of art books, and lots and lots of exquisite models and ornaments.

He would fill his currently empty desk until it was packed full.

Ruthlessly abandoning his companions who had yet to wake up.

Under their gazes filled with envy and jealousy, Ethan headed to the Great Hall alone to enjoy a hearty breakfast.

There were medium-rare fried eggs with slightly set yolks, perfectly crisped bacon, small sausages, grilled tomatoes, black pudding stuffed with minced meat, and a variety of breads.

And a wide assortment of jams.

Ethan even spotted a jar of Biting Berry Jam.

Hmm, it tasted just like eating popping candy, leaving a faint tingling sensation on the tip of the tongue.

Strangely enough.

Even though Ravenclaw was the most diligent of the four houses.

This morning, there weren't many people at the long table.

The few who were there were yawning incessantly while they ate.

Sigh~ One really must maintain a regular schedule.

Ethan shook his head with a look of feigned seriousness.

After finishing his meal, Ethan cradled his textbooks and strolled leisurely toward the Charms classroom.

The Charms classroom was located on the upper floors of the tower.

There were benefits to arriving early, especially for first-years who were not yet familiar with the paths of Hogwarts.

Ethan waited patiently for the staircase ahead to shift, glancing sideways at a few Gryffindors sprinting past.

"Where are you off to, young wizard?"

Beside him, a portrait on the wall spoke up.

The painting depicted a plump lady with thick layers of powder on her face, holding a fan and smiling at him.

"The Charms classroom, my beautiful lady," Ethan said politely, eyeing the painting with curiosity.

"Oh, ho ho ho~ Such a smooth talker."

The lady blushed, laughing until she shook, and pointed out the path to the classroom for Ethan.

"Thank you," Ethan said. "I'm curious, how were you painted into this portrait—I mean, how are you able to move like this?"

Photographs in the Wizarding World could move, but they were no more than GIF animations and did not possess much self-awareness.

But Living Portraits are different.

They truly integrate a portion of a creature's soul and consciousness into the painting.

It makes them lifelike in the truest sense of the word.

Ethan desperately wanted to create paintings like these.

"What an inquisitive child," the woman said. "As far as my memory serves, I had someone replicate a portion of my memories into this portrait while I was still alive."

"Hmm, I suspect there is also a particular requirement for the choice of canvas and pigments. You haven't studied Ancient Runes yet, have you? The canvas must have been imprinted with spells beforehand."

"Oh, I see."

Ethan nodded thoughtfully, then suddenly asked:

"Then, do you believe you possess a soul? Or are you merely a 'copy' acting according to simulated memories?"

"Ah?"

The woman was stunned.

This question struck a blind spot in her knowledge. She murmured in confusion:

"Am I... do I have a soul? Who am I? What exactly am I..."

"Thank you for the explanation."

Ethan nodded in satisfaction, leaving the thoroughly bewildered portrait behind, and leisurely stepped onto the staircase that was returning to its position.

What he wanted to do was not just replicate Living Portraits.

He wanted to go even further than his predecessors!

If he could use a form of "Summoning" to bring the paper-thin figures from the paintings into reality...

That would certainly be very interesting.

Ethan licked his lips, a strange glint appearing in his eyes.

He chuckled to himself as he focused on his thoughts.

His appearance caused other Young Wizards to give him a wide berth.

Ron, who was heading downstairs for breakfast, was dumbfounded and muttered:

"I don't want to end up like him! Ethan has studied himself crazy!"

"Haha."

Harry gave a dry laugh, thinking to himself:

Buddy, you're overthinking it.

We lack both talent and diligence, so it's unlikely we'll ever become like Ethan.

It was truly worrying over nothing.