The Hogwarts Express rumbled steadily northward through the countryside.
Before long, the compartment door slid open again, revealing a boy with flaming red hair and freckles scattered across his face. There was a smudge of dirt on the tip of his nose, though he clearly hadn't noticed.
"Is anyone sitting here?" he asked while pointing toward the empty seat beside Harry.
Ethan stood near Earl's cage while Harry looked uncertainly between them.
"Uh…"
Ethan spread his hands casually.
"No one. Go ahead."
[Ding! Goodwill Value +1]
So generous.
Ethan once again felt his self-evaluation remained extremely accurate.
The red-haired boy sat down awkwardly beside Harry. He glanced at Harry several times before quickly looking away each time as though trying to act natural.
"…Looks like a secret crush," Ethan muttered quietly to himself.
Deciding not to interrupt, he reopened his Compendium of Positive Spells.
Honestly, the title remained unbelievably embarrassing. Whoever named it sounded like a motivational speaker selling magical self-help books.
Fortunately, neither Harry nor Ron appeared capable of noticing things like that. At their current age, anyone willing to read voluntarily during a train ride already looked like some kind of terrifying genius.
And that was exactly how the two boys stared at Ethan.
After Fred and George Weasley stopped by briefly to harass their younger brother, Ron finally seized the opportunity to launch the traditional eleven-year-old friendship technique.
"Are you really Harry Potter?"
That single question immediately evolved into lifelong friendship.
Soon they were discussing Harry's fame, wizarding families, Quidditch, and all sorts of magical topics before finally remembering another person still existed inside the compartment.
"Ethan. Ethan Norton," Ethan answered without looking up when Ron finally asked his name.
In truth, Ethan wasn't looking at Ron or Harry at all.
He was trying to see whether the snack trolley had arrived yet.
Oh, for God's sake.
Why wasn't food here already?
He was starving.
The downside of sitting near the rear of the train was that the snack trolley always reached them last. If this continued much longer, Ethan might genuinely start considering cannibalism.
Finally, after what felt like centuries of suffering, the compartment door slid open once more.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?"
Harry practically launched himself out of his seat.
He hadn't eaten breakfast.
Meanwhile, Ethan remained perfectly calm because he already knew exactly what would happen next.
Harry Potter's greatest magical ability activated immediately.
"I'll take everything."
Ron stared in complete disbelief while Harry dumped mountains of sweets onto the compartment table.
"Were you that hungry?" Ron asked weakly.
"I'm starving," Harry replied through a mouthful of pumpkin pasty.
Eventually, after repeated encouragement, Ron surrendered and started sharing the snacks too.
"Ethan, want anything?" Harry asked while turning around.
Unfortunately, Ethan was already halfway buried beneath the candy pile.
"What?"
(:3」∠)
He emerged while chewing the heads off two Chocolate Frogs simultaneously.
Honestly, eating a moving frog felt deeply unsettling, but the exploding chocolate filling tasted incredible.
After eating properly, people usually started thinking about romance.
Unfortunately, this compartment only contained two eleven-year-old boys and one half-Dementor trapped inside an eleven-year-old body.
Their entertainment options were somewhat different.
For example:
Watching Ron attempt magic.
The moment Ron pulled out Scabbers, Earl immediately began making excited clicking noises like a bird spotting an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Apparently, the talking owl could recognise Animagus disguises too.
Ethan had no intention of exposing Peter Pettigrew yet, however.
Scabbers only possessed eleven soul points now. More importantly, revealing him immediately would earn very little goodwill. Right now Pettigrew was simply a coward hiding from Sirius Black.
Later, however…
If Ethan exposed the wizard responsible for helping resurrect Voldemort, the resulting rewards would probably be enormous.
And what if Ethan personally orchestrated Voldemort's resurrection first… only to betray him afterwards?
The amount of goodwill and sin points generated from that scenario sounded absolutely ridiculous.
At worst, Ethan could simply wait until Sirius escaped Azkaban and Dumbledore trusted him again before exposing Pettigrew publicly. Watching Cornelius Fudge desperately deny the Ministry imprisoned the wrong man for over a decade would probably be entertaining too.
"Squeak—"
Just as Ron lifted his wand dramatically, the compartment door opened again.
Neville Longbottom entered looking near tears.
This was actually the second time Neville had appeared searching for Trevor the toad. The first visit happened before Ethan finished eating and therefore barely registered in his memory.
This time, however, Neville brought someone else.
A bushy-haired girl with large front teeth.
Hermione Granger.
After unsuccessfully searching for Trevor once again, Hermione noticed Ron attempting magic and stayed specifically to witness the entire humiliating performance.
Once Ron's self-esteem had been thoroughly destroyed, Hermione rapidly informed everyone they should change into robes soon before dragging Neville away.
"No matter what house I get sorted into," Ron muttered darkly after she left, "I hope it isn't hers."
Harry immediately asked which houses Ron's older brothers belonged to and began worrying about his own sorting result.
Eventually, Ron turned toward Ethan.
"What about you?"
"Me?" Ethan thought back to Rose's emotional speech before boarding the train and twitched slightly. "My mother basically threatened murder if I ended up in Slytherin. I'm pretty sure I saw her mouth forming the words."
Harry looked stunned.
"Your mum's a witch too?"
"My dad as well," Ethan replied casually. "They just kept it secret because I'm adopted. They assumed I was a Muggle child."
Harry immediately fell silent.
"…I wish Mr and Mrs Norton had adopted me instead," he admitted quietly.
The difference between people truly was unfair sometimes.
Ethan grew up surrounded by warmth and affection while Harry spent his childhood sleeping in a cupboard.
Fortunately, the heavy mood didn't last long. Soon Harry and Ron moved onto other topics entirely.
They discussed Quidditch, Charlie Weasley's dragons in Romania, Gringotts, wizarding sweets, and every random subject imaginable.
Naturally, there were also interruptions.
"Is it true?"
Draco Malfoy appeared in the doorway flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
"Everyone on the train says Harry Potter is in this compartment."
"Yes," Harry replied stiffly.
Ron snorted loudly, earning immediate disdain from Malfoy.
What followed became the standard interaction between eleven-year-old aristocrats and future protagonists.
"Harry Potter, I am nobility and therefore your friendship should be granted immediately."
"No thank you. I dislike arrogant people."
Eventually, Malfoy sneered coldly.
"You looking for a fight?"
"Unless you leave now," Harry answered, clearly terrified but refusing to back down.
Then Goyle reached his enormous hand toward the snack pile.
Ethan finally snapped.
"Go, Earl."
He opened the cage instantly.
Chaos erupted.
Earl exploded outward with wings broad enough to slap three children unconscious simultaneously. Malfoy and his bodyguards immediately panicked and stumbled over each other while fleeing the compartment.
During the confusion, Earl secretly relieved himself on all three of them.
Harry and Ron burst into hysterical laughter.
"If you don't run faster," Earl screeched viciously, "I'll claw your eyeballs out, you little brats!"
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Even Harry and Ron froze instantly.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle screamed and fled down the corridor at full speed. Apparently being threatened by a talking owl crossed some deeply important psychological boundary.
After delivering his terrifying warning, Earl proudly returned to the cage.
Not before giving Hedwig one final smug glance.
"Owls… can talk?" Harry whispered in horror.
Ron suddenly looked extremely serious.
"My dad once told me something important," he said cautiously. "If you can't figure out where something's hiding its brain, don't trust it."
"How about I spread my feathers and let you inspect my ear holes personally?" Earl snapped furiously. "Maybe then you'll discover my incredibly mysterious magical owl brain."
"Ron," Ethan said tiredly while rubbing his forehead, "owls do have brains. Besides, magical contracts prevent them from hurting wizards."
Then he hesitated slightly.
"It's probably… some kind of magical hybrid."
"You're a hybrid!" Earl exploded instantly. "Your whole family are—"
The rest dissolved into furious owl profanity.
Oddly enough, that reaction reassured Harry and Ron considerably.
At least Earl hadn't attacked anyone despite being furious.
Eventually, the train neared Hogwarts.
Harry and Ron changed into school robes while outside the Scottish Highlands grew colder and colder. Many students immediately started sneezing the moment they stepped off the train.
Ethan felt perfectly comfortable.
He feared heat far more than cold.
Following Hagrid across the Black Lake by boat, Ethan suddenly sensed something enormous beneath the water.
[ Soul Strength: 50 ]
Ethan stared downward thoughtfully.
The giant squid.
Apparently Hogwarts' pet squid possessed soul strength exceeding Voldemort's Horcrux fragment.
Interesting.
Unfortunately, it was also far too large to eat in one bite.
Compared to that, Hagrid's soul strength of thirty seemed much more reasonable. Being half-giant apparently strengthened souls noticeably.
Then Ethan saw another familiar figure.
Professor McGonagall.
[ Soul Strength: 50 ]
As expected, Hogwarts professors existed on a completely different level from ordinary wizards. The strongest people Ethan encountered in Diagon Alley barely approached forty.
The gap between humans really could exceed the gap between humans and livestock.
After McGonagall finished explaining the House Cup and sorting process, the first years entered the Great Hall.
While waiting, Ron enthusiastically repeated Fred's wildly exaggerated explanation of the Sorting Ceremony until Harry genuinely looked ready to duel a mountain troll.
"Quick advice," Ethan said kindly. "Never stick your wand inside a troll's nostril."
Finally, the ceremony began.
Professor McGonagall placed a battered pointed hat atop a small stool at the front of the hall.
The hat looked ancient, patched, and filthy.
Then the rip near its brim suddenly split open like a mouth.
It sang:
"You may think I'm ugly,
A tragic fashion crime,
But find a hat more handsome
And I'll gladly eat myself alive.
Wear me without panic,
You're perfectly secure,
Though sadly I possess no hands,
My judgement still is pure…"
After the song ended, the hall erupted into applause.
The Sorting Hat bowed dramatically toward each table before becoming still again.
Harry and Ron visibly relaxed.
Ethan relaxed too.
More importantly, he'd finally finished gathering data.
Most professors ranged between forty-five and fifty soul points. Professor Flitwick even exceeded McGonagall slightly.
Dumbledore, however—
Dumbledore completely shattered the system.
[ Soul Strength: 99 ]
Ninety-nine.
That number looked absurd.
The old man resembled a scholar scoring ninety-nine out of one hundred on an exam where everyone else struggled to reach fifty.
Fortunately, soul strength alone couldn't block the Killing Curse.
Even Dumbledore eventually died from Snape's Avada Kedavra in canon.
"…Why exactly am I planning around fighting Dumbledore?" Ethan muttered while slapping his own forehead. "Shouldn't I simply stand beside the protagonists and farm experience safely?"
Still, he had finally understood the approximate structure of wizarding souls.
Ordinary wizards ranged between fifteen and forty.
Talented individuals reached forty or higher.
Exceptional monsters probably approached sixty.
And then there was Dumbledore.
An incomprehensible exception with a terrifying score of ninety-nine.
"Now," Professor McGonagall announced, "when I call your name, you will place the Sorting Hat on your head and wait for your house assignment."
"Hannah Abbott!"
A rosy-faced girl with blonde pigtails hurried forward.
Ethan remained entirely uninterested.
He repeatedly reminded himself this was because his body remained physically eleven years old and absolutely not because he possessed fundamentally different species instincts from normal humans.
Surely.
"Hufflepuff!"
As expected.
"Susan Bones!"
"Hufflepuff!"
"Terry Boot!"
"Ravenclaw!"
Eventually, Ethan's surname approached alphabetically.
Neville entered Gryffindor.
Draco Malfoy entered Slytherin.
And finally—
"Ethan Norton!"
Harry looked even more nervous than Ethan himself.
Ethan calmly sat upon the stool while Professor McGonagall carefully lowered the Sorting Hat onto his head.
…
…
…
Silence.
Nothing happened.
The hall remained completely quiet.
The Sorting Hat said nothing.
Ethan heard nothing.
"Is this some sort of staring contest?" Ethan wondered blankly.
Had Dumbledore forgotten to warn the Hat about him?
Or was the Hat desperately trying to remember how to spell "Azkaban"?
This was becoming extremely awkward.
Eventually, Ethan decided to break the silence personally.
"You're not broken, are you?" he whispered softly. "I'm actually very good at repairing souls. Want me to take a look? I've never received a bad review before, darling."
....
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