Ethan Must Have Been Forced

Malfoy whipped his head toward Professor McGonagall, and sure enough, her expression had softened considerably.

"Fighting between students is forbidden. I'm afraid I have no choice but to deduct five points from Ravenclaw, along with further detention."

"However."

Professor McGonagall's tone shifted sharply as she fixed Malfoy with a piercing glare and said in a low voice:

"I believe Professor Snape has already warned you against provoking your classmates again! Since you initiated this duel, you must bear its consequences."

After all, Ethan was usually so diligent, studious, and polite.

Hitting a classmate this hard must have been an accident.

The more she thought about it, the angrier Professor McGonagall became.

She felt the Malfoy family's upbringing was deeply flawed.

"Slytherin loses ten points, and I will be informing your father."

"Furthermore, you must thank Ethan for treating you despite your earlier actions. And swear that you will never provoke another classmate again."

Malfoy: "..."

Great.

So he had to thank Ethan now?

Malfoy stared at Ethan's innocent, pure face, recalling a saying in his mind:

Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.

Where was justice? Where was divine reason?!

Yet.

Under Professor McGonagall's glare, Malfoy finally relented.

"Th-thank you, Vincent..."

Malfoy forced the words through gritted teeth, feeling as though his healed wounds had started aching again.

"I promise I won't provoke you anymore."

As he said this, Malfoy felt a strange sense of relief.

This whole duel had been because of his father's Howling Letter anyway.

Well, now it was over.

Completely finished.

If his father ever asked again, "Why did you lose the duel with Ethan? Have you considered your own faults?"

Then Malfoy would suggest his great father have a glorious wizard's duel with Ethan himself.

He believed that before that fighting technique spread, no wizard could fully defend against it.

"Good."

Professor McGonagall said, her tone softening as she looked at Ethan.

"Mr. Vincent, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, follow me."

"Yes, Professor."

Ethan obediently followed Professor McGonagall, showing no sign that just minutes ago, he had landed a heavy punch on a classmate.

An orphan trying to survive in the mixed bag of Spider's Alley couldn't get by without real skills.

This outcome met Ethan's expectations.

He had no intention of sparking a large-scale conflict.

At least not yet.

Professor McGonagall's timing was perfect.

These young wizards needed to grow, needed to learn.

And what he had to do was plant a seed in their hearts.

A seed of doubt, of resistance.

With that thought.

Ethan curled the corners of his mouth.

He kept his head low, following behind Professor McGonagall as she continued scolding Malfoy, looking like a good student who rarely made mistakes.

Behind him, the sunlight stretched his shadow long, casting it over Hogwarts' lush green lawn.

Meanwhile.

In the Hogwarts tower.

Several upper-year Ravenclaw students watched the end of the conflict below.

They watched the entire process from start to finish and couldn't help but want to applaud Ethan.

Prefect Robert Hilliard remarked with emotion:

"Not only did he win the duel, but he also earned respect."

"Ethan's move was truly brilliant."

Robert had no idea how Ethan pulled off that magic of punching from a distance.

It looked somewhat like Apparition, but regardless, it shouldn't have been something a first-year Young Wizard could perform.

A genius, a true genius through and through.

Even though he prided himself on being clever, he doubted he could have done what Ethan did back in his first year.

Penelope Clearwater, a girl with long side-swept hair and the next Prefect in line, excitedly suggested:

"Should we recruit him into our group? Only the best and brightest Ravenclaws can join, and Ethan definitely meets that standard!"

"But he's just a first-year."

A discordant voice rang out, its tone gloomy.

Robert and Penelope turned to see a tall, thin young man.

He looked like the stereotype of a shut-in bookworm—pale skin, dark circles under his eyes that never seemed to fade, and a sullen, harsh expression.

"We never take in lower-year students; they're too immature. Letting in Cho Chang, this year's new second-year, was already an exception."

Sean Max said in a deep voice.

He looked down at Ethan on the lawn and frowned, as if spotting something dirty.

"Besides, someone who wins through tricks and smooth talk isn't qualified."

Hearing this, Penelope puffed out her cheeks indignantly:

"That's just your personal bias! In my opinion, Ethan is even better than some upper-year students—at least he doesn't jump to conclusions about others."

"..."

Sean narrowed his eyes dangerously, staring at Penelope.

She didn't back down either.

Their gazes clashed in midair, as if crackling with sparks.

"Alright, alright," Robert mediated, "Disagreements are fine; we can discuss them, but let's not split apart."

After all, they'd likely be colleagues at the Ministry of Magic someday.

"...Fine, I'll agree to a probationary period for Ethan, how about that?"

Sean said, as if making a big concession, withdrawing his gaze.

"If he can do something else earth-shattering, then we'll consider recruiting him into our team."

Penelope nodded: "Agreed."

Watching their argument from the side, Robert—who was heading off to the Ministry of Magic next year—wore a kindly, fatherly smile.

Too naive.

Arguing here over something uncertain.

Whether Ethan would even want to join them was still up in the air.

Recalling the first time in his life someone had slammed a door in his face, Robert's lips curled.

You two need to taste that too.

Heh heh heh~

He turned and watched with interest as Ethan crossed the lawn and disappeared into Hogwarts.

He sighed inwardly:

What a shame.

He was about to graduate, so he wouldn't get to see the storms ahead.

Flying class was dismissed on the spot.

Slytherin walked off with dark faces.

No doubt, by the time they entered the Great Hall, they'd find a bunch of foolish Hufflepuffs gathered around the hourglasses, amazed that they weren't in last place.

Over at Gryffindor, they were a bit unsatisfied.

They hadn't actually gotten into a fight—dammit...

"Why didn't Malfoy get detention as punishment?" Ron grumbled indignantly. "Ethan didn't do anything wrong!"

Seamus: "Uh—maybe because Professor Snape already gave him detention?"

Ron: "...Oh, that makes sense."

Ron fell silent.

He watched Ethan walk away with Professor McGonagall, his eyes brimming with envy and longing.

In his imagination, he stood before the crowd, leading with passion and power.

Soon.

Ethan's deeds spread through Hogwarts once again.

When Ethan walked the corridors, the young wizards still shied away from him, but now there was a hint of respect in their eyes.

A single elbow strike had shattered Slytherin's pride, leaving their house at the bottom of the points.

Too awesome.

Slurp.

More Ravenclaw young wizards gathered around him.

This sent Michael's sense of crisis into overdrive.

One night, he even stood by Ethan's bedside and asked, with a plaintive tone, whether he was still first in Ethan's heart.

Ethan smiled at him and bestowed upon him a noble Stupefy.

The world fell silent.