Seeing Ethan and Malfoy "make up," Lucius curled his lips into a smile.
At the same time, he felt a faint pang of regret.
Seven hundred Galleons was a sum he could afford, but it was no small amount.
He had already spent quite a bit these past few years cultivating connections for the Dark Lord's sake.
Flying Broomsticks still had a secret supply channel, but those seven hundred Galleons, along with an Undetectable Extension Charm bag that wasn't available on the market, were the real deal.
He had never spent so much on an unrelated child before.
However, drawing on his many years of investment experience, Lucius saw tremendous potential in Ethan.
In the future, Ethan might well become a powerful figure in the Ministry of Magic!
His name would resound throughout the wizarding world, and people would flock to him.
The Malfoy family had already made a mistake by following the Dark Lord before.
Surely they wouldn't get it wrong this time, would they?
Thinking of this, Lucius felt that his son really was hopelessly clueless.
Harry Potter. Ethan Vincent.
The people he wanted the Malfoys to befriend, Draco had managed to offend every last one of them.
"Malfoy, hurry up and apologize to Ethan!"
Lucius shot Malfoy a sideways glance and said coldly.
"I-I'm sorry..."
Malfoy lowered his head and murmured so quietly it was barely audible.
Lucius raised his brows high, about to scold him, but Ethan stopped him.
"Come on, don't be so hard on Draco. We're all friends. No need to be so formal."
Ethan's eyes curved into a smile as he enthusiastically patted Malfoy on the shoulder.
Malfoy shuddered with each pat, like a little snake spotted by an eagle.
"Then we'll take our leave."
Lucius nodded to Ethan, then glanced at Malfoy from the corner of his eye and gave a cold snort.
"I have no choice but to take my son home to reflect for a couple of days. It seems he still hasn't adjusted to life at Hogwarts, and has been mixing with certain—unsavory people."
Lucius thought of that ugly-looking girl, Pansy Parkinson.
Although her blood was pure, she was rather brainless.
He'd heard that the girl had been taken home to reflect, too.
Hmph, serves her right.
Just as they were about to leave, a figure approached.
It was Professor Quirrell.
He was still wrapped in that enormous, ridiculous purple turban. His back was hunched, and he shuffled about timidly, reeking of garlic.
Lucius halted, leaned away in disgust, and furrowed his brows.
"M-M-Mr. Malfoy!"
Professor Quirrell stammered, his eyes gleaming with a secretive, peculiar light.
"I-I-I'd like to ask you to come by—"
"Sorry, we don't have time to waste."
Lucius cut Professor Quirrell off, oblivious to the faint strangeness in his expression.
He waved his cane at him like he was shooing away a fly, then strode forward without looking back.
"Oh, right."
Lucius suddenly turned around and looked at Professor Quirrell's enormous turban.
"Your turban smells rotten."
"I don't think I can accept my son being taught by a professor with some sort of illness he has to hide. Hmph, perhaps Dragon Pox."
Dragon Pox was a malignant contagious disease contracted through poor lifestyle habits.
"I'll suggest to the other School Governors that we find you somewhere else."
With that, Lucius left with his son, without looking back.
Hmm, why does my left arm feel a little itchy?
Professor Quirrell stood alone where he was, smiling awkwardly and stiffly as his whole body trembled.
A closer look would have revealed a trace of terror in his eyes.
Nearby.
Ethan was barely managing to hold back his laughter.
He dug his nails into his palm, trying not to burst out laughing in front of everyone.
He actually called Voldemort a "Dragon Pox" he had to hide from the world, right to his face!
Lucius, you're a master of mockery!
As if to ease the awkwardness, Professor Quirrell turned to Ethan and forced a smile.
"M-M-Mr. Vincent, c-c-congratulations on receiving the Malfoy family's support..."
Ethan raised a brow.
"How can you call it support? It's compensation for the emotional distress I suffered."
Professor Quirrell: "...Ha ha."
Might as well laugh it off.
He really couldn't tell who was supposed to be compensating whom for emotional distress.
Ethan clutched the money pouch, in an excellent mood and already eager to buy a batch of art supplies.
He turned around and saw Michael's twisted expression.
"Ethan, Ethan..."
Michael shook his head and said with a pained expression,
"How could you accept money from the Malfoy family? You've been corrupted by filthy money. You're no longer the pure Ethan you used to be!"
Damn it, seven hundred Galleons!
Michael was so jealous he was about to undergo plasmolysis.
Weren't you supposed to help us fight the enemy?
How could you turn around and join them?!
Had the magical boy once fought against evil??
At that, Ethan chuckled and shook his head.
He looked kindly at Michael, as if a wise elder watching a child misbehave, and gently explained,
"The Malfoy family took all their money from everyone else. If I earn some of it back from them and use it to benefit everyone, doesn't that put the money back where it belongs?"
"Someone has to bear the stigma. So why not me? I'll carry that burden!"
Michael: ?
O-Okay, that kind of made sense...?
Put that way, Ethan really was sacrificing quite a lot.
After all, he'd only received some rotten, boring money, yet now he had to face everyone else's envy and jealousy.
Ethan patted Michael on the shoulder in satisfaction.
"Very good. You're a quick learner."
He liked making friends with clever people who caught on quickly.
He left the innocent little fool behind, pondering.
Ethan turned around, a wicked grin threatening to break out across his face.
Plan accomplished.
What an unexpected windfall.
Don't worry. I'll put this money to good use and benefit everyone.
For instance, I'll prepare a thrilling—no, a heartwarming Art Exhibition for Halloween.
"Heh, hehehe..."
Ethan chuckled under his breath as he headed for the Owlery, where the delivery slip was waiting, while the students backed away in alarm.
Hmm, while I'm at it, I'll buy Luna a few odd little knickknacks.
For instance, a reusable goblin guillotine.
Palm-sized, portable, educational and entertaining. It's great for teaching little kids.
The whole way, he went completely undisturbed.
Monday night.
Ethan followed Filch to the Trophy Room to do community service.
The night's glow spilled through the window, gently illuminating Ethan's face and leaving it as white as ivory.
The corridor was quiet, with only Ethan and Filch's footsteps breaking the silence.
Mrs. Norris, thin as a skeleton and with dull fur, walked silently beside them.
Her orange-red, slit-pupiled eyes gleamed with the glassy sheen particular to animals in the moonlight.
"Click."
Filch used a key to unlock the Trophy Room door.
A whiff of dust blew toward them. As the door opened, a cloud of dust rose from the floor.
"This room's specially reserved for troublemakers like you."
Filch bared his teeth in a malicious grin.
"Tonight, you're going to clean it inch by inch with a rag. No magic allowed!"
But Ethan hadn't heard what he was saying.
Ethan's attention had settled on a tall object by the window.
It was completely covered by a cloth, blocking out the moonlight shining through.
The shape of clawed supports was faintly visible beneath the cloth.
For some reason,
Ethan felt his magic stir at the sight of it, rippling through him.
A desire to uncover it welled up inside him.
Before you continue