Feeling the cold, hard weight pressing on his shoulder and the sharp blade so close to his neck that every hair stood on end, Snape looked up at Ethan gazing down at him like a monarch surveying a vassal. His face couldn't help but twitch with suppressed irritation.
After teaching for so many years, Ethan was the only student who completely disregarded the title "Professor." Hmm. Probably doesn't even consider me human.
For that sliver of hope—that impossibly slim chance—Snape gritted his teeth, suppressing his volcanic anger, and said hoarsely, "Yes. I will henceforth be at your disposal."
That should be enough, right?
Just as Snape thought this with grim satisfaction, a hand extended into his view. Looking up, he met Ethan's pleasantly smiling face. "Let's make an Unbreakable Vow."
Snape stared in disbelief: "..."
The rage in Snape's heart suddenly erupted! He stood up furiously, growling through clenched teeth, "Don't push your luck—"
Clink. A barely audible soft sound. The blade resting on his neck pressed firmly against Snape's throat. That extreme cold penetrated flesh and bone like ice water in his veins, the razor-sharp edge pressing against his carotid artery—as if the slightest movement would slice through effortlessly.
Snape froze mid-rant. His anger solidified instantly, like lava flash-frozen. His body stuck in an awkward half-crouching position, like a glitching video game character.
Ethan looked with genuine curiosity at Professor Snape suddenly holding an impromptu horse stance, laughing with obvious amusement, "Haha, acting like you've already seen Lily."
Snape's eyes widened. Threat! This is definitely a blatant threat! Implying that if I don't make the vow, I'll never see Lily...
Snape stared deeply at Ethan with barely controlled fury. In that moment, Ethan's smile radiated pure evil, emanating a powerful and profound dark aura! Being stared at by those cobalt-blue eyes felt like being targeted by a predator at the absolute top of the food chain, making Snape feel cold all over despite the warm night.
Snape slowly, deliberately lowered himself again into a kneeling position, looking at Ethan with a bitter, cold laugh. "You win, you cold, heartless creature."
Ethan raised an eyebrow: "?" Role-playing is quite an immersive commitment.
Hands clasped together. Under Dumbledore's reluctant witness, Professor Snape became Ethan's... well, his personal servant (not officially).
"Don't lie to me, don't scheme against me, don't disobey my orders." Ethan looked down at the golden threads wrapping around Professor Snape's wrist like magical manacles, smiling with obvious satisfaction.
[You obtained legendary wizard "Potions Master" Severus Snape!]
[Lamp brightness increased.]
[Your understanding of potions deepened significantly.]
[You can understand materials' essential properties, hear their gurgling fusion in cauldrons... create entirely new potions.]
A brilliant spark of inspiration lit up in Ethan's mind, like illuminating a previously dark corner of a vast star map. Suddenly, Ethan possessed new understanding of familiar potions he'd brewed before. If previously he just followed steps mechanically, now Ethan understood "why" each step was necessary.
As if divinely inspired, Ethan blurted out with revelation, "Wolfsbane Potion can't completely cure werewolves—because it lacks a powerful healing ingredient at its core!"
Like Mr. Black's failed ritual, when werewolf bloodline is forcibly stripped away, it damages soul and body simultaneously. Like deeply rooted tendrils—pulling them out inevitably destroys the soil they've grown in. My two-headed wolf painting that absorbs curses and bloodline power couldn't completely cure werewolves either for the same reason.
Professor Snape raised his eyebrows with visible appreciation, looking at Ethan and nodding with grudging respect. "Correct. Unfortunately, such powerful, extraordinary materials haven't been found in modern times. There is a flower called 'Moonsight Bloom' that only blooms in pure maidens' hands, possessing extremely strong sacred power—considered the most theoretically suitable material for curing lycanthropy."
"However," Snape's lips curved into a malicious arc of dark satisfaction, "due to human greed and shortsightedness, this flower went completely extinct approximately a hundred years ago. Moreover, just having the flower isn't sufficient—must combine it with powerful ancient spells."
Hearing this revelation, Ethan's eyes flickered with barely contained excitement. Extinct a hundred years ago? What about in 1612? Sacred power sounds very compatible with my abilities. Indeed, this final battle in the past is very worth fighting!
Ethan's heart surged with anticipation, wanting to immediately travel to the past, kick those greedy goblins around, and claim all precious powers and resources as his rightful spoils!
"Kekeke~" Ethan made his signature righteous laugh, suddenly snapping back to present reality and wiping nonexistent drool from his mouth. He looked eagerly at Professor Snape with sparkling eyes. "Sevvy, your chance to shine has arrived!"
Professor Snape's eye twitched: "..." An ominous premonition surged through him.
"Go brew me at least enough Felix Felicis for an entire army," Ethan commanded casually.
The luck needed for the historical battle—doesn't that solve everything easily? I'm such a little genius!
"An entire army—wait, what do you need it for?!" Snape cried out with genuine alarm.
Impossible. Even for Ethan, starting a revolution now is far too early—
"I'm going to war," Ethan stated matter-of-factly.
Professor Snape's jaw dropped: "(◉口◉)?!" Recruited into another Dark Lord's army again! Haven't escaped one fire pit yet, and already fallen into an evil octopus's clutches!
Dumbledore—greatest white wizard of the century—why don't you stop, Ethan? You're just watching this happen?!
Snape looked at Ethan casually demanding massive Felix Felicis supplies—more outrageous than Voldemort ever was—feeling his future looked impossibly bleak. Is it too late to quit this organization now?
The next day. Morning, in the Great Hall.
All students knew last night was the full moon and about Ethan and Snape's high-stakes bet. They excitedly looked at Ravenclaw's hourglass—no change. So they naturally believed Ethan had lost.
Hermione clasped her hands together painfully. "Merlin! Maybe while we slept soundly last night, Professor Snape was viciously humiliating Ethan—maybe even forcing him to sign unequal treaties!"
"Well, though Professor Snape is annoying, he's not some devil from hell collecting souls; he probably wouldn't do that..." Harry said uncertainly.
"Just manage your stupid cat! Don't let it attack Scabbers again!" Ron interjected with obvious irritation.
Just then, the Great Hall doors burst open. Professor Snape swept in like a black whirlwind. The hall fell instantly silent. Countless gazes watched Professor Snape stride toward the podium with lips tightly pressed, face ashen—as if fleeing something terrible.
Behind him appeared Ethan's figure. Ethan, believed by most to have "lost the bet," wore a pleasant smile. Hermione's eyes lit with renewed hope, murmuring, "Could Ethan have won? But turning werewolves back to human—that's supposed to be impossible."
Suddenly, an ethereal voice came from directly behind her. "Nothing is impossible."
Hermione jolted violently! Thinking it was a ghost, she whirled around—only to find Ravenclaw's "Loony Lovegood." Luna smiled at her with that characteristic dreamy expression, saying in her airy way, "Ethan doesn't say he can't do things."
Hermione frowned, about to retort defensively, when Professor Snape spoke from the podium with clear reluctance, "I must apologize for my prior misunderstanding of Mr. Ethan Vincent."
His tone was low and hoarse, yet it carried clearly to every single ear in the massive hall.
Hermione's jaw dropped: "∑(°口°)!" She stared incredulously at Professor Snape in shock! However, he said nothing more—after giving Ravenclaw eighty points in one breath, he retreated rapidly as if relieved to escape.
But the shock left in the Great Hall only grew exponentially! That arrogant Slytherin Head, Professor Snape, actually apologized publicly to a student? Was this real?!
"I told you Ethan would succeed," Luna's cheerful voice reached dazed Hermione's ears. After speaking, she skipped away happily. Hermione froze for several seconds, then her cheeks gradually burned crimson. She bent down, covering her face, overwhelmed by a confusing mix of embarrassment and awe.
Meanwhile, Slytherin students exchanged surprised, cautious looks. Did Ethan really turn a werewolf back to human? Does the Ministry know? No—definitely not. Because having the ability to cure werewolves means gaining support of an entire dangerous group. The corrupt Ministry would never allow any threat to their power to exist.
"No wonder Professor Snape was so cryptic—plenty of deniability." "After all, once Ethan's power is fully exposed, he'll inevitably face Ministry suppression—" "Ethan versus the Ministry—wonder how that's going to play out—"
Malfoy laughed hearing this naive speculation. Obviously choose Ethan, idiots. While you still can.
Professor Snape left the stage in defeat. Ethan took the stage—completely ignoring the Headmaster and other professors, brazenly walking to the speaking podium. The hall, noisy from explosive news, quickly quieted. Pairs of eyes stared at Ethan behind the lectern, holding their breath to listen.
Ethan surveyed the room with obvious satisfaction, smiling and saying with solemn authority, "Everyone, I have good news to share with you all!"