To study the Patronus Charm in greater detail, Ethan even went to the library and borrowed several books on the subject. After returning to the Room of Requirement, he curled up beside the warm fireplace and began another round of spell research. Compared to dry theoretical lessons, practical magic was far more entertaining. At moments like this, he could almost understand why Harry and Ron hated studying so much.
The Count, meanwhile, was simply relieved Ethan hadn't pulled Ali out of his pocket again.
"Huh… can't we just leave her with Hagrid from now on?" the Count muttered nervously as he perched near the fire.
"That only works if the centaurs in the forest stop provoking her." Ethan didn't think the suggestion was remotely practical. The centaurs would never tolerate a creature like Ali sneaking around the Forbidden Forest. Frankly, there wasn't a single part of her that resembled a normal unicorn anymore.
Ethan wasn't worried about Ali's safety. His concern was more about the aftermath if her curse fully erupted inside the forest. At that point, the centaurs would probably be wiped out entirely. His sin count would skyrocket, and Dumbledore's anger would reach a whole new level.
More importantly, if the Forbidden Forest became a wasteland, Ethan would lose one of his favorite dining spots. There were still plenty of edible souls roaming around in there, after all. Werewolves, for example.
"It's not safe keeping that thing here!" the Count finally blurted out after realizing subtle hints weren't working. "It wants to kill me!"
"You talk too much," Ethan replied lazily without looking up from his book. "What could it possibly want from you? Rip your wings off? Tear your beak apart?"
"I'm telling you, it looked like it wanted to stab straight through my prostate," the Count said with complete seriousness. "The angle it was aiming at was deeply suspicious."
Ethan slowly lifted his eyes from the page and gave him a chilling stare. "Keep talking and I'll personally tear your prostate apart."
The Count instantly shut his beak.
After shooing the squirrel away and forcing the Count back into his nest on the opposite side of the room, Ethan finally focused on the books spread across the table.
One of them, Miranda Goshawk's Ancient Spells Explained, contained a surprisingly detailed section on the Patronus Charm. Compared to The Complete Book of Positive Magic, this book leaned more heavily into historical records and source analysis.
According to the text, the Patronus Charm was one of the most famous spells in wizarding history, as well as one of the most powerful defensive magics ever created. It was exceptionally complicated and difficult, capable of summoning a semi-corporeal positive force known as a guardian spirit.
It could repel Dementors and creatures like Voldemort's followers—beings against which ordinary defensive magic was largely ineffective.
Ethan had experienced its effects personally. That thing truly could make him dizzy. It wasn't exactly lethal, but the sensation was deeply unpleasant, almost like some bizarre rejection of fate itself.
Miranda Goshawk also reached a conclusion based on historical precedent: only those with pure hearts could successfully summon a Patronus.
The book referenced a famous example involving the Dark wizard Raczidian, who attempted to cast the spell and suffered catastrophic backlash. Instead of a Patronus, maggots erupted from his wand and devoured him alive.
Most Dark wizards either suffered similar consequences or simply failed to produce anything at all.
Ethan disagreed with the theory completely.
If "pure-hearted people" were the only ones capable of casting a Patronus, then how exactly could Dolores Umbridge summon a perfectly functional cat Patronus? That woman practically radiated malice.
Clearly, the issue wasn't about personality flaws.
A more reasonable explanation was that Dark wizards who relied on extreme hatred, cruelty, and suffering to fuel their magic eventually lost the ability to produce truly positive memories. Their happiness became inseparable from pain and destruction.
Ethan felt none of that applied to him.
When he killed people or animals, he was giving them release. Whether through Avada Kedavra or consuming their souls directly, there was no suffering involved at all. Honestly, it was far kinder than skinning creatures alive for barbecue.
Still, the book helped him realize something important.
The memories he'd originally chosen for the spell had been flawed.
Edward being bullied by Rose. Stealing a neighbor child's lollipop. Those memories might have been amusing, but they weren't pure.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Ethan adjusted his focus and selected different memories instead.
Herbert agreeing to stay behind. The emotions Rose and Edward felt during their farewell. Genuine warmth. Genuine attachment.
This time, a thicker white mist burst from the tip of his wand. It churned through the air as though trying to condense into the shape of some enormous creature. Yet just before completion, the process stalled again.
Only now did Ethan finally sense the problem clearly.
The resistance wasn't coming from the spell.
It was coming from his own soul.
If he had to describe it, it felt almost like forcing yourself to touch a massive pile of your own shit right after using the toilet. Your brain knew you could do it, but your body resisted with every instinct it had.
That was exactly what was happening now.
Ethan's body wanted to cast the Patronus Charm, but his soul refused to release those positive emotions completely.
He both wanted and didn't want to cast the spell at the same time.
"I'm naming this phenomenon Ethan's Law," he announced solemnly.
After another failed attempt, he lowered his wand in frustration. No matter how hard he pushed, he still couldn't force the Patronus into a complete form.
"A Dementor trying to learn the Patronus Charm… what kind of nightmare am I living in?" the Count muttered from his nest, frozen stiff like a taxidermied owl.
The truly terrifying part was that Ethan had actually managed to produce a non-corporeal Patronus.
That was the moment Ethan slowly turned toward him.
If his own soul instinctively rejected positive emotions…
…then what about somebody else's?
The Count suddenly felt a horrifying chill crawl down his spine the instant he saw that look in Ethan's eyes. Every time Ethan smiled like that, something terrible inevitably happened. Usually, it ended with missing feathers or humiliating public pranks.
"What are you doing?" the Count asked cautiously.
"You," Ethan said as he rubbed his hands together with growing excitement, "cast a Patronus Charm."
"Are you insane?" the Count screeched. "That thing would probably attack you on sight! You know perfectly well that, deep down, you're every bit as cursed as that creepy old man who stole Grindelwald's underwear—"
"You were the one who first suggested stealing Grindelwald's underwear," Ethan interrupted flatly. "I was standing outside the window listening that day. If Dumbledore ever hears about it, he'll pluck every feather off your body."
The Count immediately lost all confidence.
"…Fine. Fine."
Grumbling under his breath, the Count flapped down onto the table and awkwardly gripped the wand with his claws.
"Expecto—"
The moment genuine joy surged through the Count's heart, Ethan moved instantly.
Devour.
This time, instead of swallowing the emotion whole, Ethan redirected it the instant he absorbed it.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A massive burst of silver-white light exploded from the tip of Ethan's wand. At first it resembled the swirling smoke of a normal incorporeal Patronus, but as the shape rapidly expanded, the atmosphere inside the room twisted violently.
The Count stared upward in absolute horror.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"
The joy had been ripped straight out of him so suddenly that his entire body went cold.
Then he finally saw it clearly.
Towering silver mist spread across the ceiling like a storm cloud. A gigantic skeletal figure slowly emerged from within the Patronus, wrapped in ragged cloaks that resembled funeral shrouds. Hollow eye sockets burned with pale white fire as countless ghostly arms stretched outward from beneath the robes.
It looked less like a guardian spirit and more like death itself had clawed its way into the room.
The Count's feathers puffed up in terror.
"Your mother's Dementor Patronus!" he screamed. "That thing's even scarier than the real you!"
....
Join my P@treon FOR FREE and get 5 advanced chapters.
Paid members can get upto 60+ chapters ahead of the public release.
Link : [email protected]/thebookaddict