??!
Hermione stared at the toad in Ethan's hand, her eyes wide with shock, blurting out, "How is that even possible?!"
The textbook clearly stated that the Summoning Charm couldn't be used on living creatures!
"Maybe you should read a few more books outside the curriculum, miss," Ethan said, his tone tinged with disdain as he flicked his wand, softly muttering a Levitation Charm.
The ugly, slimy toad in his hand floated toward Neville.
The round-faced boy looked utterly astonished, hurriedly catching the toad and cradling it like a precious treasure, stammering his thanks.
"The standard Summoning Charm indeed doesn't work on living creatures," Ethan continued, "but decades ago, wizards developed specialized versions for specific creatures."
"For instance, the great magical creature conservationist, Newt Scamander, and his [Niffler Summoning Charm]."
Ethan lowered his head, casting a quick Scourgify on his palm to clean it.
Only then did he lower his wand.
Turning to Hermione, who was now completely speechless, he grinned. "So, it's not exactly impossible that I found and learned a 'Toad Summoning Charm' in some old book, is it?"
"..."
Hermione opened her mouth, but no words came out.
She was defeated.
Utterly defeated.
She had planned to show off her own spellwork, but now there was no point in even trying.
With Ethan's impressive display of the Summoning Charm, anything she could do would just be parroting the textbook.
And despite all her thorough preparation and practice, she still couldn't match him.
…This is a matter of talent.
As a lifelong academic overachiever, Hermione's eyes blazed with determination, a fierce sense of rivalry igniting within her.
—Confirmed by that look in his eyes, he's a formidable future competitor!
"You're from a wizarding family, aren't you? I'm Hermione Granger, my parents are Muggles. What's your name?"
Before Ethan could answer, an angry roar echoed from the corridor.
"Bloody hell! Whose blasted toad is that?!"
!!!
Neville's eyes widened in panic.
Clutching his struggling toad tightly, he looked terrified that someone might try to snatch his precious pet.
At that moment, the group belatedly realized something.
When the toad had come flying over, there had been… a loud thud.
And… a scream?
"…"
Harry and Ron's expressions slowly turned to horror.
—Clearly, some poor sod got whacked by a high-speed flying toad!!
One spell, multiple casualties.
Ethan, where did you learn this combo move?!
Ethan: "Heh."
Snapping out of it, Harry and Ron instinctively stood up, positioning themselves in front of Ethan.
Sure, Ethan's thought process seemed a bit… unconventional.
But the magic of friendship doesn't break that easily.
Ethan was just a bit of a prankster, but his heart was in the right place.
After all, he'd helped Neville find his toad!
Given Ethan's slight, wiry frame, the two boys' protective stance completely hid him from view.
Draco Malfoy felt like his day had been utterly cursed.
First, that infuriating Ethan Vincent had made a fool of him in front of everyone, humiliating him thoroughly.
Then, while walking perfectly fine down the corridor, he'd been punched by a toad that came flying out of nowhere!
Who had he even offended?!
Malfoy's eyes were red with rage.
In all his life, Draco Malfoy, heir of the Malfoy family, had never suffered such indignity.
Chasing the culprit down the corridor, he spotted that bumbling, round-faced boy clutching the toad, and his first instinct was to fire off a nasty hex.
If he knew one, that is.
But just as Malfoy was about to unleash his fury, his gaze caught someone in the compartment—Harry Potter.
The very Savior he'd been looking for.
What a coincidence.
Malfoy's eyes gleamed. Forcing down his anger, he curled his lips into a smirk and said, "Hanging out with this sort of riffraff is bound to cause all kinds of trouble, isn't it?"
Harry's tense expression darkened immediately.
"I'm Draco Malfoy," he declared. "You'll soon find out, Potter, that some wizarding families are far superior to others. You wouldn't want to make friends with the wrong sort. I can help you with that."
As he spoke, Malfoy instinctively extended his hand for a handshake.
But then, a flood of miserable memories surged up, freezing him in place.
Two seconds later, he casually withdrew his hand as if nothing had happened, crossing his arms and eyeing Harry.
Handshakes… yeah, maybe not.
"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are just fine, thanks," Harry said coldly.
Beside him, Ron let out a loud snort of laughter.
"…"
Rejected twice in one day, Malfoy's temper finally snapped. "A penniless redheaded weasel, a blundering fat oaf, and a buck-toothed know-it-all…" he sneered. "You'd rather hang out with this pack of freaks than join the honorable elite, Potter? That's just pathetic!"
"I'd watch your mouth if I were you, Malfoy!" Harry shot back.
"Or what? You'll end up like your parents, too arrogant for your own good!" Malfoy spat, emboldened by the two hulking figures flanking him.
"What did you say?!" Ron roared, lunging forward, only to be blocked by Malfoy's two towering goons.
Malfoy sneered at their impotent rage, feeling his shattered pride stitch itself back together.
That's right.
He was Draco Malfoy, heir of a noble pure-blood line.
How could he let himself be intimidated by a bunch of freaks?
Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
"Get out," Harry said coldly, his fists clenched, glaring at Malfoy.
Malfoy smirked. "What, looking for a fight on the first day, Savior?"
With two beefy bodyguards at his side, how could he lose?
Crabbe and Goyle grinned menacingly, eyeing the half-eaten snacks on the seat and reaching out to shove the two boys aside.
Just then, a clear, cheerful voice cut through the tense atmosphere, completely out of place.
"So, you're saying I'm one of the freaks too, huh?"
Harry whipped around.
It was Ethan, standing behind them.
The wiry boy seemed utterly oblivious to the situation, a friendly smile still plastered on his face.
Oh no.
Harry felt a wave of despair.
Ethan's build was about as slight as his own—stepping up now was just asking for trouble.
But what happened next left Harry stunned.
The moment Malfoy saw Ethan, it was like he'd seen a ghost.
His eyes widened, his flushed face drained of color, and his lips trembled as he stumbled backward, nearly collapsing.
It was as if the boy standing before him wasn't a scrawny,plainly dressed kid, but some terrifying demon!
"You… how are you here… Ethan Vincent!" Malfoy stammered.
As if struck by lightning, Ron's eyes widened, darting between Ethan and Malfoy in disbelief.
It hit him.
He finally remembered where he'd heard the name "Ethan Vincent" before!
It was from his dad, who worked at the Ministry of Magic, sharing one of their wild stories over dinner.
—[Ethan Vincent, once listed on the Ministry's watchlist for dangerous individuals, the wicked young artist whose paintings carry mental corruption!]
His dad had even forbidden them from reading an issue of The Quibbler that featured Ethan's artwork.
Ron only knew that his twin brothers had somehow gotten their hands on a copy.
And for a whole week afterward, for some reason, they hadn't touched their broomsticks.
So this was Ethan Vincent!
Now, Ron understood exactly who had reduced the mighty Draco Malfoy to tears earlier…
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