"It may come with risks such as drowning, dismemberment, melting, or worse," the form warned.
"I understand the potential consequences listed above and voluntarily accept responsibility," Ethan read aloud, his voice steady.
"Signed: Ethan Vincent."
With a flourish, Ethan signed his name in elegant, flowing script. As the final stroke settled on the parchment, a circular emblem shimmered into existence over his signature, glowing like a magical watermark.
"That's the charm that verifies your identity and confirms the legal binding of your signature," Professor Flitwick explained, his eyes twinkling as he gave Ethan a playful wink. "Prevents certain troublemakers from signing for others."
Ethan smirked, his mind drifting to the Weasley twins. Sounds like something they'd try.
As Professor Flitwick tucked the registration form away, Ethan's heart, previously racing at the thought of the 1,000 gold Galleons prize, began to settle. Only then did he take a moment to survey the office.
His gaze was drawn to a massive glass cabinet dominating the room. Inside gleamed a golden trophy, adorned with a pair of crossed wands, its surface dusted with floating gold flecks. The inscription read: [Duel Contest World Cup Gold Award].
On the wall hung a portrait of a muscular wizard, his wand raised triumphantly, grinning at Ethan with a rugged charm reminiscent of Schwarzenegger. The title beneath declared him a "Duel Master."
Scattered around the office were Professor Flitwick's eclectic treasures: a dragon-shaped skull, a tortoise shell encrusted with gemstones, and a silver pot resting on an embroidered mat. Each item caught the sunlight, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the room.
Staring at the collection, Ethan's mind wandered to the rumor that Professor Flitwick had goblin ancestry. Human tastes are wild, aren't they? If giants can mix, why not goblins?
"—Mr. Vincent?"
Ethan snapped back to reality, meeting Professor Flitwick's puzzled gaze. He flashed a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Professor. Got lost in a biology tangent for a moment."
"No harm done. Thinking's a fine habit," Flitwick replied with a nod, though his head tilted slightly, as if it felt oddly pointed.
"The tryouts are next Friday night," Flitwick continued. "The main challenge will involve navigating the lair of a giant purple toad. I'll share the details with all the Ravenclaw participants once the roster is finalized."
"Got it. Thank you, Professor," Ethan said, nodding.
"My pleasure," Flitwick replied, his eyes gleaming with admiration for Ethan's potential.
Of course, Flitwick didn't expect Ethan to pass the school selection. A first-year wizard, only months into his time at Hogwarts? Despite Ethan's impressive displays of magic, he was up against senior students with years of experience—some who'd been preparing for this competition for ages.
For those students, the stakes were high. A strong performance could bolster their resumes, opening doors after graduation. Flitwick's mind ticked through the contenders: Penelope Clearwater, Ravenclaw's next prefect and a vice-president of the Round Table Council Society; Sean Mike, top of his year for six years running and another vice-president; Percy Weasley, Gryffindor's new prefect; and Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff's third-year star, whose sunny charm rivaled Ethan's own. Then there was Gemma Farley, Slytherin's proud and formidable prefect. Flitwick had even noticed some intriguing sparks between Penelope and Percy.
They were all vying for a spot, determined to prove themselves and add a prestigious achievement to their records. Ethan Vincent? A first-year? No chance, Flitwick thought.
"Friendship first, competition second, Mr. Vincent. Don't stress yourself too much," Flitwick said with a warm smile.
"Right, Professor," Ethan replied, catching the dismissive undertone. Flitwick clearly didn't think he'd make it past the tryouts. But Ethan said nothing, offering a polite bow as he clutched the Complete Guide to the Secret Realm Quest Challenge—a book Flitwick had handed him, not some Godman TV Collection nonsense—and left the office.
A flicker of resolve burned in his eyes. Only the deafening facts can wake these sleepers. They'll see reality isn't what they expect. One thousand gold Galleons. Herpo the Foul's secret treasure. I'm coming for it.
Before the tryouts, a Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin lit up the school. With Professor Quirrell still recovering in the hospital wing, the game unfolded without his usual chaos, smooth as a summer breeze.
"—Harry Potter caught the Golden Snitch! One hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor! Gryffindor wins!" Lee Jordan's voice cracked with excitement, booming across the pitch as the crowd erupted.
Harry raised the Snitch triumphantly, his sweat-streaked face glowing with a joy that seemed to radiate from every pore. The boy who'd spent eleven years in a cramped cupboard under his relatives' stairs was now shining under the spotlight.
From the Ravenclaw stands, Ethan clapped along, a grin tugging at his lips. He raised his wand, which shimmered and reshaped itself into a paintbrush at his command. With a flick, he used magic as his paint, sketching swiftly in the air.
Moments later—
"ROAR!"
A thunderous lion's roar echoed across the Quidditch pitch. Heads turned in awe. Above the Ravenclaw stands, a vibrant golden-red lion floated, its majestic bellow rattling the air. The Slytherins' faces darkened, and Professor Snape's glare suggested he was already plotting Ethan's demise in 108 different ways.
Harry, caught in the crush of his celebrating teammates, craned his neck to see the lion. His eyes glistened, and he waved frantically at the lone figure in the Ravenclaw stands.
After the Quidditch match ended in triumph, the school's focus shifted to the upcoming Secret Realm Quest Challenge tryouts. Or rather, to the audacious first-year who'd dared to sign up: Ethan Vincent.
A first-year? The news spread like Fiendfyre. Who'd allowed this? Oh, right—Professor Flitwick, who couldn't resist his favorite student. Ethan was already a campus celebrity, and this only fueled the buzz. Even Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff's third-year golden boy, found himself overshadowed, much to his quiet frustration.
Some admired Ethan's guts. Others mocked his arrogance. But all were eager to see how he'd fare in the tryouts—or, more likely, how he'd crash and burn.
---
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon:
pat reon .com/windkaze