The Gryffindor students stood frozen in place, staring at the violently destroyed portrait and the carved words that looked like a malicious curse demanding lives.
Fear gripped their bodies like a giant invisible hand!
"Quick, go get Ethan!" someone in the crowd blurted out instinctively.
Then suddenly realized the absurdity—awkward. Why call Ethan?! Should go get Headmaster Dumbledore!
Several students hurriedly turned around, only to collide head-on with solid silver-white armor!
Bang! A dull, resonating thud. The student was knocked backward to the ground, head throbbing in pain, completely disoriented. Angry and anxious, he looked up to question whoever it was—only to meet a blood-red eyeball staring directly at him.
"Gurgle." The eyeball rolled wetly in its socket, its round pupil curiously examining him, surrounding blood-vessel-like veins pulsing rhythmically, reflecting his terrified face in grotesque detail.
"AHHHHHH! Sirius is here!" the student screamed.
"Sirius?" Ethan lifted his armor's grated visor with a metallic scrape, weighing the silver-white heavy hammer in his other hand. Looking down at the screaming Gryffindor student, he said helpfully, "You're looking for Sirius? He's not here."
Just saw Sirius in 'spotted dog' form emerging from under the Whomping Willow earlier.
That student stared at Ethan, still trembling with shock. His brain desperately wanted to say, "I'm not looking for Sirius! I need to find Dumbledore," but his mouth betrayed him by blurting out, "Why are you dressed like that?"
Like you're about to start a battle royale at Hogwarts!
"Oh." Ethan laughed with genuine cheerfulness, shouldering the heavy hammer covered in blood-red eyeballs capable of slaying undead souls. "I'm playing 'chase and escape' games with the ghosts. Very joyful entertainment."
Not far away, the translucent ghosts shook their heads frantically in denial, palpable terror etched across their faces, their usual pearly-white glow now ashen with fear.
"This is very Halloween-appropriate, right?" Ethan said with innocent enthusiasm.
The student studied Ethan's sunny, cheerful smile and suddenly felt much calmer. When a red-skinned demon covered in skulls stands before you, a fugitive who can only scratch doors seems quite "cute" by comparison.
Ethan put away his menacing hammer to the audible sighs of relief from the ghosts—"Hooray! Survived another day!" The gathered students pushed him forward toward the common room entrance. When Ethan saw the message "I'm watching you" carved savagely on the wall, his eyes narrowed in recognition.
Seeing this reaction, students nervously swallowed. So dangerous that even Hell's Messenger Ethan is troubled!
Little did they know Ethan was actually thinking: Similar, very similar. This method of leaving threatening messages on walls—isn't it a deliberate repeat of last year's Chamber of Secrets incident? Coincidentally, I just told Sirius about this recently. Hmm, good learning ability. Should teach him more intimidation techniques.
Ethan knew Sirius didn't actually want to kill his beloved godson Harry—he wanted to kill the traitor Peter Pettigrew, who'd betrayed the Potters. Therefore, this threatening message must be intended for Peter specifically. Ethan's eyes flickered with dark amusement, looking pointedly at the trembling lump hidden in Ron's pocket, his grin widening with malicious satisfaction.
This works perfectly. Before final judgment arrives, let him stew in fear. Then at the exact moment he thinks he can escape—send him straight to hell.
"Calculating the timeline, it's about right." Ethan's eyes blazed with anticipation. His pulse quickened with mounting excitement. Time to lead my Morning Star Club and selected students to the past, launching the final battle against goblins! Reclaim the lost ancient magic that's rightfully mine.
Dumbledore arrived soon after, looking at the destroyed portrait and vandalized wall with a throbbing headache. Must this castle constantly be under attack? This familiar messaging method is just the beginning—a preview of the mountain of problems ahead.
"Head Boy and Head Girl stay, prefects organize students to the Great Hall immediately!" Dumbledore commanded with weary authority.
He glanced at Ethan standing calmly in the crowd. Meeting his gaze, Ethan gave a cheerful "OK" gesture. Dumbledore's worry only intensified—still not knowing what Ethan actually plans to do or why he researched goblin alchemy so thoroughly, organized all that combat training.
Could Ethan's true goal this year be instigating some sort of student uprising? And what's his real connection with Sirius?
"First seal the school and thoroughly search every corner of Hogwarts," Dumbledore sighed heavily. Though he'd likely find nothing, since Ethan was essentially a walking security breach—with his mysterious [Portal] ability alone, he could teleport people anywhere completely undetected.
If Sirius really had allied with Ethan, even under the Dementors' supposedly watchful eyes, those useless creatures couldn't catch him.
In the Great Hall, students from all four houses gathered together in emergency sleeping arrangements. Initially discussing anxiously how Sirius could have possibly entered the heavily guarded school, the topic gradually shifted to Ethan's controversial Defense Against the Dark Arts practical activity.
"Thinking about it objectively, Ethan's doing this for our own good! At least with proper training, we won't be completely blind when danger comes—" "If Sirius dares come near us, I'll slide tackle him into next week!"
At the Gryffindor table, Ron and Hermione looked worriedly at Harry, who sat unusually quiet. Sirius's sudden violent attack had shattered their peaceful illusions, making them recall with chilling clarity Professor Trelawney's apocalyptic prophecy—[Judgment will descend] [The evil soul will destroy the hero in the world's eyes]! Sirius was going to kill Harry!
Ron quietly attempted comfort, "Hey mate, look on the bright side. The prophecy mentioned a dusty mansion, treasures behind paintings—none of that's happened! Prophecies don't always come true, especially from that crazy woman!" Ron patted Harry's shoulder with forced confidence.
"Besides, you're receiving intensive combat training from both Ethan and Professor Lupin! Fighting goblins and everything. You'll become way more powerful than Sirius!"
"Thanks, Ron," Harry said, forcing a weak smile while feeling slightly better.
But Hermione remained troublingly silent, thinking intensely about the prophecy's specific condition: "when the non-existent war is won." Does Ethan's "Goblin War" somehow count as a "non-existent war"? What's the actual relationship between these prophetic conditions and Sirius ultimately killing Harry?
Hermione's analytical rationality told her this entire prophecy felt strange—like we're all fundamentally wrong, thinking in some huge blind spot, believing we're struggling against fate, only to discover we're already deep in the spider's web, personally making ourselves into a meal.
The Great Hall's ceiling transformed into a peaceful starry night with gentle breezes. Though chaos reigned outside with professors searching for Sirius, it had nothing to do with Ethan. He slept remarkably well.
The next morning in the Great Hall, as students yawned and crawled groggily from gaudy purple sleeping bags, a fully dressed and energetic Ethan announced his "inspiring" news:
"This Defense Against the Dark Arts practical activity officially begins this Friday evening! We'll personally experience real warfare, use our diligently practiced magic to defend human rights and dignity, and repel greedy, vicious goblins!"
In the frozen, stunned silence that followed, Ethan stood confidently on the platform, both arms raised high in triumph, spirited and energetic, his cobalt-blue eyes sparkling with passionate flames of conviction.