I Held an Art Exhibition, Guess Who Was Invited?

Halloween Eve.

The light of the Silver Moon spilled across the windowsills.

Jack-o'-lanterns decorated the corridors everywhere, occasionally cackling at passing students.

Ethan stood in the First Floor Entrance Hall, listening to the clamor drifting from the Great Hall nearby.

The entrance hall was large enough to hold an entire house, its ceiling impossibly high, filled with glowing green candles, decorative spiderwebs, and little bats flitting about.

Where suits of armor once stood, there were now skeletal figures baring their claws, and pale ghostly shadows drifted through the air from time to time.

Right now, everyone was enjoying the feast in the Great Hall.

It was the perfect time to set up the art exhibition.

Ethan chose a spot from the Underground Staircase to the Side Corridor.

There weren't many Living Paintings here, enough room to blend his works in among them.

"Hey, child," an old woman sitting in a wheelchair in one painting asked kindly, "why aren't you at the feast? What are you doing here?"

"I want to hang up my paintings, to add some flavor to Halloween."

Ethan answered honestly, waving his wand to levitate a painting onto the wall.

"Oh—you can paint too! What a lovely child."

The old woman cupped her face, her gaze at Ethan growing more affectionate, and she said eagerly:

"Hang it next to me, let me admire your painting properly—"

The old woman's voice suddenly stopped.

Her gaze froze on the painting that, as she'd wished, now hung beside her.

It was an utterly grotesque, utterly terrifying painting.

It seemed to depict a beast that was half-human, half-not.

"It" had thick, messy brown mane-like hair, skin wrapped around fat that bulged out from the bones, like a mass of living flesh cobbled together rather than a single being.

And those eyes.

Those eyes, filled with madness and chaos, flickering with raging light.

"It" was crammed into the frame, the frame seeming like a fragile cage for "it."

Any second now, it would tear through the canvas, break the frame, and lunge out to sink its yellowed teeth into living flesh.

In a daze.

The old woman seemed to hear a heartbeat like a drum, smell the hot, rotting breath.

"This is my good friend I painted, called 'Loyal Hagrid.'" Ethan introduced enthusiastically, admiring the painting with nostalgia.

To chase the effect, he'd even used chicken blood—from outside Hagrid's hut.

The final result was excellent.

Ethan took a deep breath, savoring the bloody scent wafting off it.

Perfect as the opening piece, it could really stir people up.

He just didn't know why, when he showed this painting to Hagrid, the usually talkative Hagrid fell silent.

The next day, he even cut his hair short—hair he hadn't bothered with in ages.

Guess he's reached the age of caring about his looks.

Ethan thought.

"—Aaaah!!"

A shrill scream interrupted Ethan's thoughts.

He looked up.

He saw that kindly old lady leap from her wheelchair, hopping and skipping into another painting, quickly disappearing from sight.

"Good, very spirited."

Ethan nodded in approval.

Hopefully, that old lady would scream just like that when the time came, to add to the atmosphere.

"Hmm hmm hmm~"

Ethan hummed a light tune as he controlled the paintings, hanging them in the right spots.

Third Umbilical Cord, Dim Moonlight Path, Eating Ghoul, Roaring Crawler...

Gradually, the corridor fell silent, deathly still.

The Living Paintings were empty, their inhabitants nowhere to be seen.

Even the bright moonlight took on a tinge of blood red.

Finally.

Ethan hung his two masterpieces at the end of the corridor:

Portal and Call of Erised.

[Name: Call of Erised]

[Type: Concept Art]

[Rank: Tier 1 · Golden Legendary]

[Description: "Embrace me, enter me."]

[Effect: Strongly enthralls the viewer, plunging them into an illusion of their deepest desires as if they were truly there, making it hard to break free. If not snapped out of it in time, they will be trapped forever in the sweet dream, completely losing themselves.]

[Warning! This card is dangerous. Use with caution.]

[When you tour the Gallery, you may view this painting on the wall.]

[Current number of paintings in the Gallery: 4]

[Novice Gift Pack progress: 4/5]

This was Ethan's second Golden-tier card, created by fusing the Erised Spell.

The painting was a field of golden radiance.

From top to bottom, it had no concrete form, yet like the blinding sun, it enveloped the viewer.

Just looking at it made one feel dizzy and scorched.

As if nothing else existed in the world but that glow.

"Mmph."

Ethan snapped back to reality, shaking his head to clear his mind.

That was close—he'd almost fallen into it himself.

This card was really dangerous. What should he do...

He just wanted others to appreciate his art, not cause an actual disaster.

How could I, so pure and kind-hearted, bear to put others in danger?

This was Hogwarts, after all.

Suddenly.

A great idea struck Ethan.

—The noble Fusion!

The skill he'd just learned, and hadn't had a chance to use yet.

"Fuse Portal with Call of Erised."

Ethan commanded, feeling his magic flow into both paintings, then link them together.

"Gurgle, gurgle."

The paint on both canvases bulged, then gradually adhered like sinew.

Finally, they fused completely into one.

Becoming a single painting.

Reading the description of his "new work," Ethan's eyes lit up.

This was it!

It could lure people into dreams more effectively, and at the final moment, deliver a decisive blow to send them crashing back to harsh reality—

Cough, why call it a decisive blow?

It was clearly a friendly "anti-addiction system."

Ethan, thoroughly satisfied, hung up this last painting.

According to the fused card's effect prompt, he still needed to go to the Great Hall to set up the Portal's exit.

A little surprise for everyone.

Thinking about what was about to happen, Ethan couldn't help the corner of his mouth curling up.

"I wonder who'll be lucky enough to be the first to see the Art Exhibition..."

Ethan murmured with a smile, eagerly heading toward the Great Hall.

His figure cast a long, thin shadow under the moonlight.

Not long after Ethan left.

A figure crawled out from the staircase leading to the dungeons, panting heavily.

It was Professor Quirrell, who had just released the Troll.

"Heh, hehehe..."

Quirrell couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, his trembling eyes filled with unwavering determination.

It was done.

He had successfully placed the Troll in the underground classroom.

Now, all he had to do was put on a panicked expression, rush into the Great Hall, and report the news to everyone.

Then, while the others were distracted, he would slip away to the fourth floor and break through the Trapdoor.

"Once this is over, my Master will surely reward me handsomely..."

Quirrell muttered excitedly as he stepped onto the staircase.

Just then.

A sudden, intense wave of dread surged toward him from ahead!

As if the gates of hell had swung open, the corridor before him had twisted into a dark, distorted shape without warning.

Dead silent, utterly lifeless.

Only the cold moonlight shone down.

A thick, bloody stench assaulted his nostrils.

It felt as though countless tendrils had materialized, dragging him into an abyss.

Quirrell: "...?"

He gulped, swallowing hard.

A primal fear crept up his spine, raising goosebumps in its wake.

His heartbeat quickened, his Pupils contracting from tension and panic.

W-What was going on?

Who had stolen his thunder and already butchered Hogwarts ahead of him???