Return to school day.
Hogwarts Express.
On the bustling platform, the scarlet train let out a mighty roar.
It released a puff of hot steam and began to chug forward with a rhythmic clatter.
Because Mr. Lovegood had been mistaken for a suspicious stranger on the way there, thanks to his eccentric outfit.
He'd been detained and questioned for quite a while.
So Ethan and Luna barely made it onto the train in time.
They lugged their trunks through the packed, narrow corridor.
Ethan felt something off.
In the past, other students would eagerly and respectfully clear a path as soon as they spotted him.
But today, it seemed like they were trying to edge closer to him instead.
When a Hufflepuff boy bumped right into his chest, his panicked face shifting to one of visible relief.
Ethan realized this wasn't just his imagination.
"Make way! Make way! Make way for the Heir of Slytherin! The most evil wizard has arrived!"
Ethan whipped his head around, narrowing his eyes as he looked ahead.
There was the great savior himself, Harry Potter, flanked by the Weasley twins, trudging down the corridor with a sour expression.
It was as if Harry might sprout fangs at any moment and spew venom.
The surrounding students scattered like startled birds.
Spotting Ethan, Harry froze in place.
He wore a "shy" expression, like he wanted to approach but didn't quite dare.
How had he transformed into "Harriet" after just one holiday?
Ethan used his finger to gently shove the Hufflepuff boy's forehead, pushing him back.
He stepped forward and said with genuine admiration, "Harry, they say you should look at someone with fresh eyes after three days apart."
It had only been Christmas break, and he'd already leveled up to "Heir of Slytherin."
Impressive nerve!
Harry: "..."
Harry choked on his words, but Ethan's admiring gaze didn't seem feigned at all.
A whirlwind of emotions hit him—he wanted to cry and laugh all at once.
As expected from Ethan; his perspective was always so... unique.
The dark cloud over his heart lifted considerably.
Harry: "It's just—"
After Harry's furious explanation.
Ethan got the picture.
It turned out that during the Christmas holidays, Harry had spoken to a snake he'd conjured at Malfoy during a club dueling practice.
He'd been accused of siccing the snake on his classmates.
And just like that, he'd become the school's public enemy number one.
...Was Malfoy's repertoire limited to that one spell?
Ethan figured he needed to carve out some time for a proper chat with Malfoy.
But this made him a public enemy? These kids hadn't seen real trouble yet...
Harry: "They even said Lord Voldemort tried to kill me because he didn't want a second 'Dark Lord' rising up!"
Harry was furious and hurt all at once.
In front of Ethan, it felt like confiding in a wise elder, and the words tumbled out like spilled beans.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "That's going a bit far."
"'Dark Lord' is way too premature for you. They're trying to flatter you straight into the grave!"
Ethan stared intently, as if facing a serious threat.
Harry: "... Hmm, I don't think that's what they meant."
Powerless smile.jpg
"Besides..."
Ethan turned his head, catching a flurry of shocked stares that couldn't dart away fast enough.
A card materialized in his hand.
"Pupil of the Door," amplified by the "Sonorus Charm," activated!
"Whoosh!"
The sunlight vanished, plunging the compartment into darkness.
Outside the window, a massive eye blinked open.
The inky black orb pressed right against the glass, like a gaping portal that threatened to suck souls right into its depths.
"Gurgle."
The eyeball swiveled, scanning over faces frozen stiff as boards.
Half a second later.
"Ahhhhhh!!!"
Shrill screams exploded through the compartment!
?!
Harry and the Weasley twins gaped in stunned silence at the scene, which had devolved into a full-blown disaster flick.
Amid the pandemonium, Ethan spun around.
He flashed a pure, innocent smile and said in his clear, gentle voice:
"To earn the title of 'Dark Lord,' you need to pull off at least this much."
"What's so shocking about a little Parseltongue?"
Harry realized.
His worldview was still too narrow.
He had so, so much to learn from Ethan.
Ethan: "Harry, who you become isn't defined by your birth or what you have."
Harry blinked in surprise.
Why was he suddenly dropping wisdom?
But he couldn't deny it.
He'd been wrestling with doubts and inner turmoil lately.
The Sorting Hat had even suggested Slytherin for him...
As if sensing his thoughts, Ethan added: "The Sorting Hat told me to head straight to Azkaban. Did I listen?"
"That's something to think about later."
Harry: Please don't ever...
"It's all about what you do. How you choose to live your life."
Ethan locked eyes with Harry's bewildered green gaze, emphasizing each word: "I believe you didn't open the Chamber of Secrets."
Because I'm the one who did.
Ethan clapped Harry on the shoulder like a seasoned mentor and turned to go.
He casually claimed the now-empty compartment, cleared out by the terrified students fleeing the giant eye.
Harry stood there, dazed.
Ignoring the horrifying spectacle.
Wasn't Ethan comforting him in his own twisted way?
And he believed in his innocence so unwaveringly...
Harry was deeply touched.
He couldn't help but blurt out, "Ethan's really a kind and warm-hearted guy..."
Weasley twins: ???
"Mate, you need to get your head examined."
Harry was too wrapped up in the moment to care.
He thought:
No wonder so many people followed Ethan.
They must have been drawn in by his innate sense of justice and goodness, just like me.
Hogwarts feast.
Headmaster Dumbledore delivered an important address.
He stressed the severity of the situation but assured everyone he'd do everything in his power to keep the students safe.
As he spoke, Dumbledore glanced over at Ethan.
Catching his eye, Ethan flashed him a bright, reassuring smile that said, "Don't worry."
So Dumbledore turned back, at ease.
"Please travel in pairs, and don't give in to baseless rumors—"
Just then.
"Bang!"
The Great Hall doors burst open.
Everyone jumped and turned to look, spotting a tall, burly figure.
He was bundled in a thick, dark brown fur coat and a felt hat that didn't scream British fashion.
A chill radiated from him, dropping the temperature around him.
At the Ravenclaw table.
Someone exclaimed in surprise, "Mr. Arthur."
The newcomer ignored the stares, striding into the Great Hall. In the flickering candlelight, his face was as stern and unyielding as carved marble, commanding respect without a word.
But beneath his eyes lurked deep dark circles.
It was as if his energy had been sapped, betraying a flicker of vulnerability.
Ethan frowned and let out a soft "hmm."
Odd, that magical signature... In his sight, a shroud of rotting, shadowy magic clung to the young man.
Very familiar.
Because it was the exact same magic tied to Tom Riddle's diary.
The young man approached the dais, nodding to Headmaster Dumbledore.
Then he turned and scanned the Great Hall.
His gaze paused on the Ravenclaw table for a beat.
In a deep voice, he declared, "I am Arthur, the current president of the Round Table Council."
"Upon learning of the dire threat at Hogwarts, I cut short my exchange at Durmstrang and returned early."
"Here, on behalf of the Round Table Council, I vow we'll unmask the true culprit behind this Chamber of Secrets affair!"
"I'll show you that in Ravenclaw, only our Round Table Council is a club truly worth joining."
The moment those words left his lips.
The Great Hall erupted into chaos!
Harry furrowed his brow deeply.
Because he remembered—it was this so-called Round Table Council that had cornered him earlier, branding him the "culprit."
Now they were openly shading the Enlightenment Society!
Were they really that bold?!
Harry instinctively glanced at Ethan.
But he was stunned to see Ethan wearing a relieved smile.
Like he'd just spotted a dim-witted underling.
"...A schemer's intricate plots can't hold a candle to a fool's impulsive spark."
Ethan murmured appreciatively.
"I've got the diary locked away in the wardrobe, yet idiots keep finding ways to dive headfirst into the flames."
Ruling out the chance the guy was just naturally exhausted.
His appearance screamed that he'd been drained by the diary.
He must have performed some ritual to offer up his life force to Tom from afar.
In exchange for power he could've earned with plain old time and effort.
So what to do—
Heh, wasn't it obvious?
Since Tom planned to use this fool as a pawn against him.
Then he'd happily scoop them both up in one go.
Ethan's lips curled.
In his cobalt-blue eyes, a cruel, playful glint emerged—like a cat toying with its prey.
You want to catch the real culprit?
Then I'll hand you the chance on a silver platter.
After all, how generous am I?
In the following weeks.
Ethan prepped according to the epic show he'd scripted in his mind.
Though the Round Table Council's president strutted around campus like he owned the place every day.
No further attacks happened.
The tense vibe slowly ebbed away.
Even Harry wasn't seen as quite so "terrifying" anymore.
But judging by his face, which was even frostier than before, it was clear he hadn't let it go.
By the Easter holidays.
Second-years were picking their third-year electives, and in the frenzy, the shadow of the Chamber incident seemed utterly forgotten.
In the library.
Michael slumped over the table, grumbling, "Why isn't there a class on uniform seduction techniques? I could really use that."
Ron: "Why do I have to keep taking Potions? What's the point?!"
Hermione: "Why are you two always whining with all these 'whys'? Can you just stop complaining?!"
Harry chuckled a couple times, then turned to Ethan curiously. "Ethan, what electives did you pick?"
At that, Hermione pricked up her ears.
Ethan: "Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. Hmm, I'm debating adding Divination."
Divination was a bit too abstract.
Ethan was still on the fence.
Ron looked impressed: "I heard Ancient Runes is brutal—"
Michael: "And the job prospects are slim, mostly research gigs."
Ethan shrugged: "Just for fun."
"Plus, I'm pretty sharp."
Ethan smiled faintly.
Michael and Ron immediately howled like they'd been gut-punched.
Ron: "Oh, Hermione, how can you pick everything? You know some classes clash on the schedule!"
Hermione: "None of your business—this is top-student territory."
Ethan shot Hermione a glance but stayed silent.
He pulled a red stone from his pocket and carefully etched it with a carving knife.
Harry leaned in again: "What's that?"
Ethan smiled mysteriously.
"This is a handy little gadget that'll come into play soon."
Under his steady hand, the rough stone slowly morphed into the shape of a spider beneath the blade.
Finally.
Before final exams.
Ethan was all set.
He could head to the Chamber of Secrets now and kick off this grand spectacle he'd been building toward all semester.