Chapter 329: New Card, Furnace Giant! Ethan Wants to "Requisition" the Founders' Relics!
"Nice."
Inside the old townhouse, everything went silent.
Everyone had frozen.
Wands were still raised, and every face stared blankly at that familiar figure, as if a Dementor had just shown up to deliver Christmas presents.
"Blimey, the rain's really coming down tonight. Good thing Mr Lovegood can use magic freely," Ethan muttered, chatting as casually as if he had popped round for tea.
He held Luna's hand and stepped over the threshold, like he belonged there.
Mr Lovegood trailed behind them, head bowed so low he might have been trying to become part of the carpet. He refused to look at anyone, determined to be an ostrich about the whole thing.
"E-Ethan?" Harry tried, testing the word as if it might bite.
His mind was blank. Everything in front of him felt like a ridiculous dream.
How was Ethan in the Order of the Phoenix headquarters?
No, more importantly.
How did Ethan even know the Order existed?
And why did he look so… practised?
Nobody noticed Sirius stiffen on the side, as if something had just hit him in the gut.
Ethan had Mr Lovegood dry his and Luna's clothes. Then he looked up and fixed the room with a reproachful stare, eyebrows raised at the stunned crowd gaping like they had been cursed to lose all common sense.
"What? It was only one summer. Have you forgotten what I look like already?"
"And here I was, thinking I even brought you a present."
"A present?" Harry repeated, puppet-like.
"Yes." Ethan looked at Harry, puzzled.
He blinked, then seemed to understand something. His smile softened into something almost kindly, like a landlord gazing at the village idiot.
Patiently, he lifted a hand and pointed behind everyone.
On his handsome face was a warm smile, bright as midday sun. "Look. Didn't I have the giant bring it over for you?"
Harry turned, very slowly, as if he could hear his neck joints creaking.
And there it was.
A giant's outstretched palm.
And in the centre of it, a red gift box.
Compared to that enormous hand, it looked almost dainty.
A gold bow had been tied on with absurd care, and the colours had been chosen in unmistakably Gryffindor red, as if whoever wrapped it had put thought into the presentation.
"Nice."
In the dead silence, Ethan's cold hand landed on Harry's shoulder from behind.
His voice, clear and strangely chilling, slid right into Harry's ear. "Happy birthday, Harry."
"So why aren't you going to pick up the birthday present I prepared for you?"
Harry went rigid.
His shirt clung damply to his back.
Good news: it wasn't a Dark wizard attack.
Bad news:
It was Ethan Vincent.
Which was worse.
In that moment, Harry finally understood something.
All that agonising over whether to tell Ethan about the Order of the Phoenix…
They had never had a choice in the first place.
…
[Name: Furnace Giant]
[Rank: Tier Three, Golden Legend]
[Type: Living Painting]
[Effect: A Progenitor Giant driven by immense energy, possessing unrivalled strength. It can freely command the power of fire without any incantations, a catastrophic flame unlike dragonfire.]
[Each activation requires feeding the furnace in its chest with an object containing tremendous energy. In exchange, it possesses extremely powerful AOE attacks.]
[Appraisal: One alone is a fortress.]
In the pouring rain, the faint glow of the furnace gradually died away.
In the end, the Progenitor Giant's massive form scattered into points of light and flowed into the card in Ethan's hand.
On the blank canvas, an image condensed.
A ferocious giant clutching flame.
Its face carried the wildness and blood-hunger of something not yet civilised, and faintly, impossibly, it was as if one could still hear a roar strong enough to shake mountains and rivers.
This was Ethan's new painting, created using a fragment of the Progenitor Giant's heart and the inspiration drawn from it.
Ethan turned to everyone present and asked, brimming with excitement, "So what do you think? Who's stronger, him or Voldemort?"
No one answered.
Every face looked twisted as they stared at Ethan, who had very naturally sat himself at the dining table as if nothing at all was wrong.
There were so many things to say, so many questions and complaints, that it all jammed up in their throats and turned into sheer misery.
In the end, it was Mad-Eye Moody, who had endured Ethan's particular brand of "torment" before and therefore had a higher tolerance for nonsense, who finally snorted.
"With that thing you just showed us, he could go one-on-one with Voldemort in that writhing mass of flesh."
"At the very least, it would lock Voldemort down completely."
Ethan nodded, satisfied, and the corner of his mouth lifted in smug delight.
He stared at the brand-new card in his hand like it was a treasure he could not stop admiring.
There was nothing better than completing a perfect painting.
His mood lifted, and when Ethan was in a good mood, his appetite followed.
Under a ring of looks that could not be described in polite language, he took a long swallow of hot soup, then exhaled in contentment.
Warmth slid down his throat and settled in his stomach.
Even his thoughts felt sharper.
Still, a powerful card like this wasn't without limits.
Every time I drive it, I have to feed tremendous energy into the heart-furnace. This time, he had nearly drained his magic dry just to get the giant moving for a few minutes.
If controlling it costs me everything, it's not worth it.
Ethan frowned into his bowl.
An object packed with magic. Something truly extraordinary…
Then his eyes lit up.
Of course.
If I want something that can match my level of magic, there's only one answer.
The relics left behind by the four Founders.
Better yet, one with a piece of Voldemort's soul clinging to it.
His mind flicked through the list, one by one, until it settled.
Hufflepuff's cup.
A golden cup bearing Hufflepuff's imprint, a symbol of abundance and harvest.
It should be able to feed the Furnace Giant for a long, long time.
As the thought settled, another irritation surfaced, one that had been lodged in the back of Ethan's mind for ages.
When he had read the original story, it had always bothered him.
The Founders' precious treasures had been destroyed just like that.
No hint of what they were truly meant to do. No real function revealed at all.
What a waste. What a pity.
Now, at last, he could find out what they were for.
Hufflepuff's cup was hidden in Bellatrix's vault.
Gringotts…
Ethan's smile deepened.
It's time to pay another visit.
"Hehe… hehehe…"
Ethan's delighted laughter leaked out.
To everyone else in the room, that sound was like a bucket of ice water poured straight over their hearts in midwinter.
One by one, they all stared down at their perfectly delicious food in complete silence, seized by the distinct feeling that they were sitting at their last supper.
They could ask Ethan later how he knew about the Order.
Yes.
Later.
At that moment, everyone present reached the same unspoken agreement.
Elsewhere, the Black family house-elf, Kreacher, crouched behind a door.
His enormous eyes did not blink as he stared at Ethan, filled with fear and longing in equal measure.
He kept muttering, "The young master's locket… give the young master's locket back…"
"Thief… thief!"
Kreacher did not notice Ethan's diamond-blue eyes flick briefly in his direction.
Of course, Kreacher would seize any chance. Exploit a loophole in Sirius's words. Slip out and run to his beloved mistress, Bella… something or other. Ethan had never bothered to memorise her full name, and had no intention of starting now.
And if Kreacher leaked information from this house…
If, in the original timeline, that had indirectly led to Sirius's death…
Then why not turn it around and use that same flaw?
A spy inside a spy inside a spy.
Isn't that much more interesting?
Ethan's lips curved.
A sharp, almost inhuman cleverness glinted behind his smile.