Everyone immediately agreed to Ethan's alternative solution.
"In a box?" Hagrid repeated anxiously after nodding. "Will I still fit inside once it's finished?"
On the same day Norbert began attempting to fly, the Count finally returned to the Room of Requirement carrying seventy-seven Occamy feathers.
Strangely enough, Newt Scamander hadn't accepted Ethan's payment.
"After reading the letter, he said you and him apparently share similar interests," the Count explained while dropping the heavy bag onto the table.
Gold Galleons clinked loudly inside.
"What he actually meant," the Count continued bitterly, "was that if not for his magical creatures, he probably would've given you his suitcase directly."
"But there's no reply letter," Ethan noticed.
Inside the bag sat bundles of pale blue Occamy feathers alongside untouched sacks of gold.
No note.
No message.
Which suggested something deeply concerning.
Newt Scamander apparently knew the Count could talk.
And somehow the Count had still escaped alive afterward.
"Yeah, well…"
The Count's expression twisted darkly.
"After I accidentally revealed I could speak, he tried to buy me from you."
"What an ungrateful bastard," Ethan commented mercilessly.
"But after I asked whether the 'owl purchase agreement' could be cancelled, he suddenly lost interest."
The Count angrily returned to sitting on his egg protectively.
"I can tell none of you hairless creatures are trustworthy…"
After climbing into the brand-new suitcase he purchased specifically for this project, Ethan finally began expanding the interior space using the Occamy feathers.
Very quickly, he discovered something horrifying.
He had misunderstood the measurements in the book completely.
"…So seven hundred referred to side length."
Ethan clicked his tongue.
With only seven Occamy feathers, the suitcase had already expanded enough to comfortably house a dragon.
Naturally, Ethan had assumed the number referred to total volume.
Which meant he'd massively over-budgeted.
Since wasting resources offended him spiritually, however, Ethan used all seventy-seven feathers anyway.
Now the interior dimensions had become genuinely absurd.
He couldn't even see the boundaries anymore.
A spell fired into the distance vanished long before reaching any walls.
Was this the true power of wizardry?
At this point, buying property seemed unnecessary.
Honestly, Newt was probably the only wizard in Britain capable of casually producing over seventy Occamy feathers at once.
Normal merchants would've needed to skin entire Occamy families.
Most traders only obtained feathers occasionally by scavenging deep forests after seasonal moulting.
Once the internal space stabilised fully, Ethan began constructing the environment itself.
Sky.
Grass.
Sunlight.
Unfortunately, he immediately encountered another problem.
None of the required large-scale environmental Transfigurations appeared anywhere inside:
The Standard Book of Spells.
Intermediate Transfiguration.
Or even the more advanced spellbooks he'd collected.
If you encounter difficulties, ask the Headmaster.
That was Dumbledore's own suggestion.
So despite the late hour, Ethan climbed back out of the suitcase and headed directly toward the Headmaster's office.
"Cockroach Cluster."
Ethan spoke the password toward the stone gargoyle.
Dumbledore still hadn't changed it after an entire week.
Apparently he genuinely liked Cockroach Clusters.
Interesting.
The staircase slowly carried Ethan upward.
Knock knock knock.
"Come in," Dumbledore's sleepy voice answered with a yawn.
Dragging the enormous suitcase behind him, Ethan entered the office.
Dumbledore wore dark blue robes tonight, and his long white beard extended almost to his waist.
Ethan stared thoughtfully for several seconds.
"…When you sleep, do you leave your beard outside the blanket or tuck it inside?"
Dumbledore looked at Ethan silently.
Surely this child had not appeared in the middle of the night specifically to ask about beard management.
Then Dumbledore noticed the suitcase.
Immediately, he understood.
The dragon container was finished.
"You can roll it up like a towel," Dumbledore replied seriously. "Though personally, I still prefer sleeping without a beard."
Then he smiled warmly.
"I see the suitcase is complete. I understand the excitement of finishing one's work…"
"But both children and elderly people require proper sleep."
[If you weren't secretly stalking eleven-year-old students at midnight, that argument might sound more convincing.]
Ethan thought silently.
Outwardly, however, he simply widened his eyes and looked pitiful.
Dumbledore found the sight deeply unsettling.
He had imagined many possible interactions with Ethan Norton.
A half-Dementor child acting cute was not among them.
"…Very well."
Dumbledore sighed in surrender.
Apparently, he remained physically incapable of refusing reasonable requests from students.
That weakness likely explained why the Headmaster's office technically had a curfew.
Rather than directly modifying the suitcase himself, however, Dumbledore instead began teaching Ethan the necessary environmental Transfiguration theories.
He even handed Ethan an old notebook that looked several decades old.
Then something horrifying happened.
Ethan learned everything immediately.
Dumbledore had fully expected Ethan to take the information home, study overnight, and perhaps return tomorrow after successful experimentation.
That would already count as genius.
Instead, Ethan mastered the techniques on the spot.
After helping Ethan create sunlight, grasslands, and artificial skies inside the suitcase, Dumbledore finally spoke again.
This time, his tone carried genuine concern.
"Ethan," he said quietly, "I think I should remind you of something."
"Sometimes, exposing one's brilliance too early is dangerous."
He looked directly at Ethan.
"Perhaps we ourselves are not afraid of certain dangers."
"But our lives are not only our own."
"We also have family. Friends. Peaceful days."
"Those things cannot be exchanged for magic or knowledge."
"When you become too noticeable, trouble eventually arrives without warning."
"And before that happens, you must grow strong enough to withstand it."
Ethan naturally understood exactly what Dumbledore meant.
If the Ministry of Magic realised Ethan was rapidly becoming something beyond their ability to control…
…panic would follow immediately.
Dumbledore knew perfectly well how the Ministry behaved toward things it feared.
They would attempt coercion.
Containment.
Possibly extermination.
And all such actions would only transform Ethan into a genuinely hostile force.
Dumbledore understood that better than anyone.
"Hogwarts remains safe for you," Dumbledore continued softly. "But outside school, please avoid displaying abilities too openly."
"Do not invite unnecessary trouble."
After completing the final stabilising seal on the suitcase, Dumbledore finally stepped back with a tired smile.
"Well then."
"I believe this little project is complete."
"And I believe we should both be asleep."
"I'll ask Fawkes to return you to Gryffindor Tower."
"That way you avoid detention and gain additional time for preparing your end-of-year exams."
Then Dumbledore winked mischievously.
"Oh, and please avoid revealing this suitcase publicly."
"I imagine its existence would alarm people almost as much as privately raising dragons."
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