The feast was halfway over.
Professor Quirrell, who was apparently off somewhere playing some kind of play with the Troll, still hadn't shown up.
One plump turkey after another had been reduced to a pile of bones.
The young wizards slumped this way and that, greasy and stuffed, sprawled across their seats in blissful contentment.
Headmaster Dumbledore wore a purple wizard's hat decorated with bat wings. He rose and made his way to the brass owl-shaped microphone.
He fired off two loud bangs with his wand. Golden ribbons shot from its tip, drawing the students' attention.
"Seeing everyone having such a wonderful time makes even me feel quite a bit younger," Headmaster Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "Now, I'd like to make a few announcements about the coming term."
"The various clubs have begun recruiting, and there'll be an information session in the Great Hall next Monday. Any students who are interested can check the notice boards."
"Hogwarts has plenty of interesting clubs, such as the Gobstone Club, the Quidditch Research Club, the Painting Club, and so on."
At that last one, Ethan was certain he saw Dumbledore wink at him.
Hmm... This was getting interesting.
He'd set up an art exhibition today, after all. He could have the head of the Painting Club take a look later.
"Of course, if Hogwarts' many clubs still aren't enough for you, you can always start one of your own—"
"However, I'm afraid I still can't approve the Exploding Toilet Club this year."
At the Staff Table, the Weasley Twins burst out laughing.
Their older brother Percy, who was also a Prefect, glared at them in annoyance.
"Besides hobby clubs, there are also academic clubs run by our professors."
"For example, Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration Research Club and Professor Flitwick's Spell Creation Workshop."
Professor Flitwick had invited Ethan to join his club—or, as he called it, an "after-school study group"—before.
But Ethan had turned him down because he was too busy.
Apparently, the Spell Creation Workshop had once been the famous Dueling Club.
But it had been changed into a gentler format because of its poor reputation, with a focus on learning the principles behind spellcasting.
Its aim was to master Nonverbal Spells and get better at creating spells to deal with opponents.
"Did you know?" Michael suddenly leaned over and said in a conspiratorial whisper. "There's another top-tier club in our House, besides Professor Flitwick's academic group!"
"They only take the very best students, and they never recruit publicly! They don't even accept younger students!"
"Only the members get to assess applicants. If you pass, they'll send you an email."
"It's super mysterious!"
Michael's eyes were full of longing.
Getting into that club would be unbelievably cool!
Unfortunately, the youngest student they'd ever made an exception for was Cho Chang, who was in her second year.
First-years had no chance at all.
Ethan raised an eyebrow at that, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
An internal assessment by the members? It was nothing more than a clique sticking together.
After all, Ravenclaw supplied over half the talent that went to the Ministry of Magic every year.
Naturally, they wanted to pick out people they got along with early and build connections in advance.
At the podium, Headmaster Dumbledore's speech was nearing its end.
Whatever heartfelt words he'd said had left his eyes shining behind their half-moon spectacles, glimmering with joyful tears.
"...I hope you'll continue to enjoy your studies in the coming term. Remember, Hogwarts will always be your warm and welcoming home!"
Headmaster Dumbledore raised his arms, and the audience erupted in applause.
"Tonight's curfew has been extended to ten thirty."
"Yay!"
Ethan clapped along, his gaze repeatedly wandering up to the ceiling.
Looking out at all those youthful, beaming faces, Dumbledore turned to exchange a smile with his fellow professors.
Oh, what adorable students they were!
What did the occasional bit of mischief or a small mistake matter?
Even the naughtiest students, the Weasley Twins, only went so far as blowing up toilets.
And Ethan Vincent, who'd dueled Malfoy right at the start of term, was just a reckless youngster.
Professor Flitwick had been a dueling expert in his day, too!
There was nothing to worry about.
After all, Hogwarts was the safest place in the world.
Just then—
A beam of light suddenly shone down from above!
As if space had opened its jaws, a rectangular rift shaped like a doorway split open in the ceiling.
Its interior was pitch-black, like the gaping maw of some devourer. Cold and eerie air spilled out.
The Great Hall quickly fell silent. The students looked up in confusion at the strange black rectangle.
"Is this Hogwarts' grand finale?" Ron asked foolishly, still gnawing on a chicken leg.
But when he saw Dumbledore's expression turn abruptly serious, his smile froze. He looked around in alarm.
It was part of Hogwarts' grand finale, right?!
In the dead silence, Dumbledore's brow furrowed, a murderous glint in his eyes.
An attack?
But Apparition didn't work inside Hogwarts. Who'd be bold enough to teleport right in front of him—uh, wait?
Dumbledore suddenly realized something.
He whipped around and narrowed his eyes.
Among the anxious faces, one expression stood out as completely out of place.
Ethan Vincent!
Well, well.
So it was you, young man.
Headmaster Dumbledore instantly relaxed and watched the black hole with interest.
Was Ethan trying to surprise everyone?
My, my. What an energetic child.
Meanwhile—
Ethan had no idea he was being watched—or perhaps he simply didn't care.
His cobalt-blue eyes shone with excitement like bright stars, and he clenched his fists.
His gaze remained fixed on the Portal.
It was finally here!!
Which lucky person would come through?
Would it be Hermione?
She'd probably been moping in the girls' bathroom earlier. Maybe she'd come out and run into the art exhibition.
Perhaps it was Professor Sybill Trelawney. She hadn't joined everyone for dinner tonight; perhaps Fate had brought her here to admire his paintings.
Whoever it was, Ethan was ready with a Levitation Charm.
After all, he was such a kind and gentle young wizard.
The Portal began to ripple.
The next second, a figure fell through!
"Wingardium—Professor Quirrell?!"
Ethan's eyes widened in surprise.
That moment of shock was all it took for him to miss his chance to cast the Levitation Charm.
With a heavy thud, Professor Quirrell crashed onto the floor between the tables.
He twitched twice like a broken rag doll, then lay still.
Dumbledore: "..."
The relaxed smile froze on Dumbledore's face.
Weasley Twins: Holy crap, that was awesome!!
The Great Hall was utterly silent.
At the Staff Table—
After two seconds of silence, Snape curled his lips and said in a voice too faint to make out:
"Five points to Ravenclaw... for Ethan Vincent's quick thinking."
"Pfft!"
Professor Flitwick finally came to his senses and spat out the mead in his mouth.
He coughed as if he were choking, staring at his star student in disbelief!
Ethan, you?!
—A word of explanation was needed here.
Ethan was a very helpful child who never kept anything to himself.
Ever since his duel with Malfoy, students and professors had come to ask him how he'd done it.
He'd cheerfully shoved his paintings in the faces of anyone who asked.
He'd even helped them run a few experiments.
The professors had wanted to reproduce the effect, but found that they simply couldn't paint the same way—as though every brushstroke in the painting had been imbued with Ethan's soul.
It was one of a kind.
Even when they asked wizarding artists to copy it, all they got was an ordinary painting without a soul.
Only Ethan could paint it.
In any case—
The professors all recognized Ethan's handiwork.
Several sharp gazes shot toward him at once!
Ethan: "..."
He slowly stood up and peered at Professor Quirrell, who still seemed to be alive.
Then he spread his arms, like the star of a show making his final appearance, and smiled at the students and professors.
"Surprise~"
Happy Halloween.
Before you continue