"Snape…" Quirrell muttered nervously while rubbing his hands together. "He said he wanted to help the Dark Lord obtain the Philosopher's Stone…"
"?"
Ethan immediately pretended to look confused.
After all, he already knew perfectly well Snape had absolutely no intention of helping Voldemort.
"So you're refusing to cooperate with him?" Ethan asked.
"It's because… the Dark Lord doesn't trust him…" Quirrell explained anxiously. "Snape used to follow the Dark Lord, but now he stands beside Dumbledore."
"And during the Quidditch match… when we tried to kill Harry Potter…"
"He was casting a counter-curse."
Technically, Ethan had also interfered.
But Ethan wisely chose not to mention that.
Besides, Quirrell couldn't tell which spells entangled around Harry's broom belonged to disruption magic and which belonged to counter-curses anyway.
"Bah! A traitor!"
Ethan immediately slammed his hand against the table in righteous fury.
"A servant of two masters! A fence-sitter!"
Quirrell looked confused.
"What does 'fence-sitter' mean?"
"It's a foreign expression," Ethan explained solemnly. "Used specifically to insult traitors."
Then he placed a hand against his chest dramatically.
"Don't worry."
"I hate traitors more than anything in this world."
"I would never betray you."
Quirrell genuinely believed him.
After all, Ethan had already:
Released a troll into Hogwarts.
Assisted in obtaining unicorn blood.
Played with Dark Arts in Quirrell's office like a professional criminal.
And casually fired Killing Curses like fireworks.
In Quirrell's eyes, Ethan clearly possessed the soul of a natural Dark wizard.
Honestly, Quirrell even suspected Ethan had suffered horrific abuse during childhood.
Otherwise, how could an eleven-year-old produce such terrifying murderous intent with Avada Kedavra?
Of course, the truth was slightly simpler.
Quirrell's "teaching targets" had mostly been corpses and small animals.
If Quirrell suddenly dragged in a genuinely innocent living person…
Ethan honestly wasn't sure he could cast the Killing Curse properly.
After all, Ethan still possessed at least some conscience.
Even the system acknowledged that fact.
Not much conscience.
But technically some.
After happily insulting Snape together with Quirrell and Voldemort for nearly half an hour, Ethan finally left the office in a wonderful mood.
Honestly, Snape deserved it.
That man deducted points from Gryffindor every single time he saw Ethan.
The remainder of first year passed surprisingly quickly.
And Ethan gradually fell into an extremely lazy routine.
Wake up.
Attend classes.
Eat.
Sleep.
Occasionally exist.
He barely even visited the Forbidden Forest anymore.
The Acromantulas had retreated deep underground, and their population growth slowed dramatically.
Apparently, the spiders had collectively realised reproducing too quickly simply resulted in Ethan eating more of them.
Even monsters could evolve survival instincts.
Ethan also stopped visiting the unicorn herd.
Because every time he approached, he smelled overwhelming amounts of alcohol.
After asking Hagrid about it, Hagrid casually mentioned that Ali frequently visited the hut asking for more Butterbeer.
Supposedly no other unicorns ever appeared.
Ethan deeply suspected the truth looked slightly different.
Most likely the entire unicorn herd was already drunk somewhere deep inside the forest.
Only Ali, as a "nightmare" rather than a true unicorn, could apparently survive the drinking sessions without collapsing.
Meanwhile, Hagrid's construction work inside the suitcase neared completion.
Because his magic remained unreliable due to his broken wand, Hagrid preferred manual labour over spellcasting.
Which meant he built nearly everything by hand.
With only one month remaining before the Philosopher's Stone operation, Harry and the others unexpectedly became extremely calm.
Mostly because Hermione successfully infected Harry and Ron with her exam anxiety.
Now both boys existed inside a horrific endless cycle:
"The exams are coming and I haven't revised."
→ "Studying is exhausting. I'll relax first."
→ "The exams are coming and I haven't revised."
As a result, they could neither study properly nor enjoy themselves while procrastinating.
"I take back everything I said before," Ethan announced while fleeing toward the Room of Requirement for safety.
"Homework is not the most evil invention in the world."
"Exams are."
"The students are losing their minds," he continued while collapsing into an armchair. "There's no way anyone can finish revising an entire year's worth of classes within a month."
"I bet only Hermione and the Ravenclaws are actually studying properly."
The Count immediately noticed something suspicious.
"You don't seem worried about exams at all," he said maliciously.
"Have you already revised?"
"Or are you planning to work in Azkaban after expulsion?"
Ethan immediately counterattacked.
"I noticed your egg disappeared."
"Did it fail to hatch?"
"Or did you discover the chick inside was ugly?"
"You—!"
The Count nearly exploded with rage.
Unfortunately, despite all his efforts, the egg truly hadn't belonged to him.
Or more accurately:
Hedwig ultimately chose to live with a small yellow owl instead.
Apparently the Count's enthusiasm frightened her.
Now the Count permanently resembled an abandoned widow full of resentment.
Ignoring the emotional collapse beside him, Ethan returned to his newest obsession:
The magical Dungeons & Dragons sandbox Edward had gifted him.
Originally, Ethan thought it was merely a decorative display piece.
Only in April did he discover the truth.
It was actually a magical game console.
By pointing a wand toward the miniature world inside the display case, Ethan could directly control the clay protagonist.
Race.
Class.
Equipment.
Companions.
Everything could be customised before beginning adventures through dungeons, monsters, and branching storylines.
Edward must have spent months building it.
Probably starting after Ethan left for Hogwarts.
Honestly…
Edward was a genuinely good person.
A good person deserved at least one hundred and eight children.
Unfortunately, Edward still didn't appear to have any biological kids.
Rose and Ethan at least shared partial blood relations.
Edward, however, seemed entirely unrelated.
Which raised a deeply concerning question.
How had Edward and Rose spent ten years together without producing even accidental younger siblings?
Could Edward possibly have… problems?
Considering Edward's soul strength only measured around ten points, Ethan suspected old Dark Magic injuries might be responsible.
Probably not Ethan's fault specifically.
He didn't remember eating Edward's soul.
Probably.
Even so, the sandbox game consumed Ethan's attention for hundreds of hours.
Eventually, sometime during May, Ethan finally defeated the dragon hidden deep inside the cave dungeon after countless deaths and restarts.
The reward treasure felt genuinely satisfying.
Ethan immediately froze the game progress permanently to commemorate clearing it.
By then, it was already late at night.
Rain hammered violently against the castle windows.
Then—
Crash!
A soaked owl smashed directly through the Room of Requirement window.
"Did God lose control of his bladder?!" the Count screamed furiously upon entry.
Rainwater dripped everywhere from his feathers.
"The storm started suddenly! I nearly fell into the lake!"
"Don't make rain sound disgusting…" Ethan muttered.
Then he noticed the soaked envelope clutched beneath the Count's wing.
"A letter?"
"Quirrell gave it to you."
The Count threw the drenched envelope onto the table before waddling toward the fireplace to dry himself dramatically.
Ethan unfolded the rain-stained paper carefully.
Most of the ink had blurred.
But the important sentence remained visible.
[Tomorrow night. Eleven o'clock. Entrance corridor.]
....
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