Schoolmate, You Wouldn't Want to End Up Like Malfoy, Would You?

Sean felt dizzy with rage, blood rushing to his brain.

For a moment, he couldn't tell whether Ethan was seriously answering his question or making fun of him.

"Second."

Ethan's voice continued.

He held up a second finger, and a chill suddenly rose in his cobalt-blue eyes.

"Why do you think I won't fight back?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a terrifying aura swept out from Ethan!

His cobalt-blue eyes fixed on Sean, flashing with an abnormal, frenzied light!

The air around Ethan twisted.

Like refraction on a soap bubble, it displayed ever-shifting colors, bizarre and eerie.

The fireplace flames swayed without any wind, crackling loudly.

A pungent smell mixed with nuts and minerals spread through the Common Room.

It diluted the fragrance of the food.

This was magic running wild.

Everyone felt it. Their hairs stood on end, like the prelude to a thunderclap.

Even Professor Flitwick restrained his expression and instinctively seized his wand.

Sean, who faced the full brunt of this fury, had his pupils contract, his body tense, and a bone-chilling sensation crawl up his back!

Sean, who had always buried himself in his studies, realized for the first time that the world held more than clever tricks.

It also held the punishment of an iron fist.

"Y-you, what are you trying to do?!" Sean shouted in terror, stammering. "This is Hogwarts!"

Sean never would have imagined that he would truly be threatened by a brat barely eleven or twelve years old!

He had lost his composure in front of ordinary students and the club members!

It was utterly humiliating!

Even more shameful than failing to come first in an exam.

The atmosphere froze.

Yet the next second, Ethan suddenly laughed.

Like a spring breeze melting a frozen lake.

That pleasant smile instantly made the madness and chill vanish without a trace.

"Why are you so nervous, Schoolmate? I was only joking."

Ethan raised his hand and patted Sean's stiff shoulder like an old buddy before slowly saying:

"I'm actually a very good-tempered person. If no one provokes me, I won't provoke anyone."

"Schoolmate, you wouldn't want to end up like Mr. Malfoy, would you?"

At the mention of that name, everyone immediately pictured the Little Golden Retriever, looking like an eggplant battered by frost.

Ever since returning home, Malfoy had seemed like a completely different person.

He no longer looked down his nose at everyone all day, nor did he constantly pick on Gryffindor.

Even the recent hot topic of "Harry being chosen for the Quidditch team" had only made him watch enviously from a distance.

He no longer shouted things like, "This isn't fair! I'm telling my father!"

To think that a person's deeply ingrained personality could undergo such a drastic change in such a short time...

Everyone couldn't help shivering, afraid to imagine what kind of blow Malfoy had suffered.

And all of it had been caused by Ethan.

Looking at Ethan's smiling face, Sean felt as though his throat had been strangled and he couldn't breathe.

He couldn't help taking two steps back. The way he looked at Ethan was like he was looking at a nonhuman creature.

He couldn't understand it or accept it.

How could someone like this exist in the world?!

At that moment, Professor Flitwick's voice rang out, smoothing things over for them:

"All right, all right, everyone! It's time to go rest!"

"Mr. Vincent, would you still be willing to give us a little demonstration?" Professor Flitwick asked cautiously. "Or would you like to go rest early?"

"It's fine. I still have plenty of energy."

Ethan turned around and took out his wand.

With a wave, the wand transformed into a pure and beautiful paintbrush.

"Perfect Transfiguration Spell! I simply have to award Ethan five points on Professor McGonagall's behalf!"

Professor Flitwick shouted excitedly, his eyes shining brightly.

Even he or Professor McGonagall had rarely mastered such refined and skillful technique in their first year.

"Believe me, if she weren't worried about your safety, Professor McGonagall would definitely award you the points herself."

Next.

Ethan performed Avis for them as well.

Of course, it was the non-attack version.

He wasn't crazy enough to turn this Common Room into a barbecue pit.

"Wow—"

The students stared at the golden light circling through the air, their faces filled with amazement and fascination.

The Golden Birds dragged long tail feathers behind them, flapping their wings like tassels or brilliant meteors. They circled among the crowd, making everyone feel as though they were standing beneath the vast heavens.

Sean watched the scene with a dark expression.

He couldn't deny Ethan's magical talent, and that only made him more furious!

"He's just some penniless pauper. I shouldn't be getting angry at someone like that..." Sean muttered through clenched teeth. "I'll definitely show him just how great the difference between us is!"

Hearing this.

Prefect Robert and Penelope, the next-year Prefect already being groomed for the position, exchanged glances.

The latter looked worried and said, "Prefect, will he be all right?"

No matter what, Sean was an outstanding and exceptional upper-year student.

Robert smiled faintly. "When you say 'he,' who are you referring to?"

Penelope froze.

After dropping that ambiguous remark, Robert turned and left.

Like the other students, he went over to Ethan and eagerly struck up a conversation.

He left Penelope alone to ponder the meaning behind his words.

—In the end.

Professor Flitwick awarded Ethan a total of twenty points.

That happened to offset the points Professor McGonagall had deducted.

If you ask why, the answer is favoritism.

At the same time.

Hogwarts Headmaster's office.

Portraits of past headmasters hung on the walls, giving off faint snores. More than a few were pretending to sleep while actually eavesdropping.

The scarlet phoenix Fawkes stood on its perch, chirping softly.

"Tea, coffee, or hot milk?"

Dumbledore smiled at the worried, slender woman before him, his eyes behind the Half-moon Spectacles blinking playfully.

"I'm not here to make small talk, Professor Dumbledore."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips in displeasure and said urgently:

"As I told you, the boy Ethan Vincent... possesses a kind of innate evil."

"His way of thinking is different from that of normal people. Those terrifying paintings—oh, you saw them too, didn't you, Professor Dumbledore? The ones hanging in the corridors."

"Yes, I saw them. I even stopped to admire them for quite some time."

Dumbledore leisurely added one sugar cube after another to his hot milk as he spoke.

"What I noticed was Mr. Vincent's extraordinary painting skill. You saw the first painting, didn't you? I imagine it depicts a Wild Giant from ancient times, when people lived on raw meat and blood. Tsk, tsk, how vivid."

"But!" Professor McGonagall retorted. "His paintings have gone too far! They can cause harm to others!"

Professor McGonagall still remembered that beautiful illusion of being completely immersed in another world.

She had seen the happy family she had dreamed of her entire life, so warm and within such easy reach.

With even the slightest lapse in caution, she could have sunk into it completely.

At that moment, what had the great White Wizard, Albus Dumbledore, seen?

Professor McGonagall didn't know.

But when she came back to herself, she found that Headmaster Dumbledore still hadn't recovered—

Or perhaps he was willing to remain immersed in it, unwilling to return to reality.