"Phew..."
Ethan took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He felt completely drained.
But more than the physical exhaustion, it was finishing this extraordinary painting that left him feeling satisfied.
Scarlet paint flowed across the paper. Ethan took a deep sniff of its rusty scent.
Perhaps because it came from an animal, the paint made the image look even more lifelike.
"I can't wait to see the next issue of The Quibbler."
Ethan muttered to himself, carefully rolled up the painting, and tied it to the owl's leg along with his reply.
"Sorry for the trouble."
Ethan rubbed the owl's round head with his finger.
It gave a contented hoot, then spread its gray-blue wings and flew into the sky.
He watched it shrink to a tiny black speck until it disappeared from sight.
Ethan drew his gaze back to the words displayed by the system.
This was the first time he had obtained a painting with a special effect.
"When this painting is used, the person who touches it will break out in a mild rash..."
"Though it doesn't seem very powerful, it also says that if it's combined with the appropriate spell, the painting can be upgraded further."
Ethan pondered, his eyes bright with interest.
Combining spells with paintings was a little like alchemy—or those Living Paintings at Hogwarts!
After all, mere painting couldn't possibly create something so lifelike.
It was as if part of a person's soul had taken up residence in one.
Ethan had no idea how to do that yet.
He planned to start by studying his textbooks in advance.
In the original story, Hermione, a Muggle-born, had learned a few simple spells just by reading her textbooks ahead of time.
There was no reason he couldn't do the same.
"I'll look into it further once I get to Hogwarts."
As it happened, the textbooks he'd bought had arrived by owl post, too.
Ethan picked up Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, sank into the creaking sofa, and started reading with relish. Before long, he was completely absorbed.
He couldn't understand why so many young witches and wizards could resist reading such fascinating material, let alone studying it in advance.
The overachiever buried deep in his soul was burning bright.
Some time later.
The Daily Prophet headquarters.
Rita Skeeter strode into the office building, her broad hips swaying beneath a shiny, silk-green outfit.
Her short golden curls exposed a prominent forehead, and her scarlet lips looked as if they could devour a child whole.
Her fine eyebrows were always arched, and her eyes glittered with cunning and sharpness as they darted about, constantly searching for the next big scoop.
Today was the release date for the latest issue of The Quibbler.
But Rita couldn't have cared less.
Come on, what was The Quibbler, anyway?
It was full of absurd, fabricated nonsense, and everyone in it was a bunch of lunatics.
Its articles weren't fit to hold a candle to Rita Skeeter's.
After all, even making things up took skill, didn't it?
At the thought, Rita smirked smugly and started considering what story she'd "invent" this time.
The Chosen One was about to start school. Should she write about the horrible deaths of his parents?
The headline could be: <The Chosen One You Never Knew! What Really Happened Back Then>...
Or perhaps she could write about that little brat who'd been selling paintings.
She could talk about his reckless behavior, tie it to the squalid conditions in Spider's Alley, and hint at Snape, the former Death Eater and current Hogwarts professor...
Yes! That would make a great scoop!
Rita's eyes gleamed. She ran the tip of her tongue over her scarlet lips as the Quick-Quotes Quill beside her bobbed impatiently.
Just then.
Rita noticed her colleagues gathered in a group, nervously discussing something.
Her eyes darted about, and she immediately went over, leaning suggestively against the table as she forced her way into the conversation.
"What's going on? What happened?"
"..."
Her colleagues exchanged glances.
Finally, one of them handed her a magazine and said, "Take a look at this issue of The Quibbler..."
"The Quibbler?" Rita raised an eyebrow and scoffed. "What earth-shattering garbage has it come up with this time to get you all so worked up?"
She casually took the magazine from her colleague and glanced at the page.
The next second, an intense stench of blood hit her!
Thick scarlet paint seemed to flow right off the page. Red blisters had sprouted across skin like raw pork; some had burst, oozing pus and blood.
The twisted lines seemed to tell the story of the agony the person in the painting was suffering.
[...Riding a Flying Broomstick for a long time can lead to a disease called "Broom Rash." It's a bacterial infection that gradually spreads upward from the buttocks...]
"Aaaaah—!!!"
It was only when Rita was being shaken violently that she realized the bloodcurdling scream had come from her.
At the same time, she realized she was standing in front of all her colleagues, fiercely scratching her buttocks and arms!
Red welts covered the skin she'd exposed.
"..."
An awkward silence fell.
Rita and her colleagues stared at one another. Her face flushed as if it were on fire.
"What—what kind of cursed thing is this?!" Rita shrieked, mortified. "No decent publication should let something like this reach the public—"
She stopped herself before she could finish.
Oh. This was The Quibbler.
Then there was no problem.
Another awkward silence fell.
Her colleagues looked concerned on the surface, but were secretly snickering.
The miserable old bat had finally gotten her comeuppance. Heh heh~
Rita bit down hard on her lower lip.
Losing her composure over a painting was a terrible humiliation!
She glared viciously at the painting again, instinctively shuddered, and finally spotted the artist's signature in the corner.
"Ethan Vincent...? Isn't that the kid who violated the Wizarding Secrecy Act?!"
Rita's eyes rolled, and her scarlet lips curled into a grin.
Her next article could be about how creepy this kid was.
He was about to start at Hogwarts, too. She could subtly express a little "concern"...
No one would like having a bad reputation before they'd even started school, would they?
Heh heh heh~ Rita Skeeter really was a genius~
Ministry of Magic.
"Rita Skeeter is an idiot!!"
Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, slammed the newspaper down on his desk.
The large headline that caught his eye read: <Justice vs. Evil? The Chosen One, Who's About to Start School, vs. the Evil Painter!>.
The article below reproduced the bizarre illustration from that issue of The Quibbler and described it in detail.
As a result, that issue of The Quibbler had seen its sales skyrocket.
It was even on the verge of catching up with The Daily Prophet.
After all, human nature was driven by curiosity and the desire to see a spectacle.
What? Looking at this picture could make you lose your mind?
Then I'd better have a good look!
The Chosen One was starting school this year, and things were already more than busy enough.
Now there was also an "Ethan," suddenly thrust into the public eye.
"That reporter is always causing trouble for people!" Fudge grumbled, then immediately ordered, "Write to The Daily Prophet! Tell them to penalize her for this irresponsible article!"
His subordinate nodded and started writing.
Fudge stared at the painting in the newspaper. Even though it was only a printed copy, it still gave him goosebumps.
Bloody hell, it really was creepy.
Hogwarts certainly had no shortage of unusual talent this year.
But since Ethan had published his work in a "respectable" magazine aimed at witches and wizards, there wasn't much Fudge could do about him.
"...Forget it. Keep an eye on what the kid does. As for the rest, leave it to Hogwarts."
Surely nothing too disastrous would happen.
Right?
Fudge turned to look out the window at the cloudless sky and took a deep breath. He felt a little better.
Whatever happened, the greatest terror was gone.
The wizarding world was entering an era of peace.
Before you continue