A bitter wind howled through the air, cutting between Ethan Vincent and the professors, tousling their hair and tugging at the hems of their robes. Professor McGonagall shivered, her weary mind grappling to regain focus. Her sharp eyes darted past Penelope Clearwater, who looked just as confounded, before settling on Ethan. She searched his deceptively innocent, handsome face for answers, but his expression was an impenetrable mask. Finally, her voice rasped, "What… exactly happened?"
How had a straightforward selection trial spiraled into such chaos? And Ethan—why had he just stood there, watching it all unfold?
Ethan's lips curled into a deeper, almost mischievous smile. Instead of answering, he reached into his leather satchel, enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, and produced an obsidian ring. He turned it over in his hand, wondering if it was his imagination or if the ring had grown even duller since he'd first acquired it. The faint magical glow that once pulsed within it had nearly faded entirely.
Inside his satchel lay his prized collection of paintings—works with titles like Ghoul's Feast and Tide of Unraveling. If the ring had a consciousness, Ethan mused, it was probably exhausted from being surrounded by such peculiar artistry. He dismissed the thought with a shrug and held the ring out to Professor McGonagall. "Professor, this is the trophy I retrieved from the cave."
Professor McGonagall's eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the obsidian ring. With a flick of her wand, a tiny point of light appeared, confirming the mark they'd placed on all the trial's treasures. But—how? Ethan hadn't moved a single step from the starting point. How could he possibly have obtained the ring?
The other professors erupted into astonished whispers.
"Merlin's beard, my memory isn't failing me, is it? Mr. Vincent never even entered the cave!" one exclaimed.
"The magic he used… even we professors couldn't have conceived of it. Truly, there's no end to learning," another said, shaking their head.
"Professor Flitwick, your house has birthed a genius! Nurture him well, and he might just rival Dumbledore one day."
Professor Flitwick chuckled awkwardly, scratching his head as his cheeks flushed. Such praise made it seem as though Ethan was moments away from earning Hogwarts' Special Contribution Award and carrying Ravenclaw to new heights. "Wait—so Mr. Vincent can pass the selection trial?" a professor blurted out.
"By the galloping Gorgon, the rules state that anyone who obtains the trophy is automatically admitted…" another replied, trailing off.
Normally, a student would face the toad's test, enter the cave, and navigate a series of challenges to claim the treasure. No one had anticipated a student bypassing the cave entirely to secure the trophy. This wasn't just bending the rules—it was leaping over them entirely.
Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed, her gaze locking onto Ethan with a dangerous glint. "Mr. Vincent," she said slowly, "was this chaos your doing?"
Penelope shot Ethan an anxious glance. Ethan tilted his head, his brow furrowing in a theatrical display of distress, like a child wrongfully accused and unsure how to defend himself. The sight gave Professor McGonagall pause. Had her tone been too harsh? Surely, no matter how unsettling Ethan could be, he wouldn't have orchestrated the destruction of the examination hall. That would be far too complex for a first-year. Impossible, surely.
Ethan's expression softened into a shy smile. "No need to praise me, Professor. I'll get embarrassed."
Professor McGonagall froze. "…"
Was it really you, you little menace? And what's there to praise about this?
"You—cough, cough, cough!" She choked, pointing a trembling finger at Ethan before doubling over in a fit of coughing. The surrounding professors and students rushed to her side, patting her back.
On the sidelines, Professor Flitwick quietly stepped back, shrinking into the background. Don't notice me, don't notice me…
Under the weight of everyone's stares, Ethan raised a hand, his voice brimming with relish. "The shock to the world begins here. These brilliant fireworks will mark the dawn of a new era!"
The crowd fell silent. Blow up the world? And those "fireworks" were their spells, misfired and chaotic!
No one knew how to respond. The soft, ivory moonlight bathed Ethan's face, casting a serene, almost ethereal glow over his features. It was as if he were draped in a veil of purity, his figure radiating an almost angelic grandeur. But when his cobalt-blue eyes swept over them, a subtle shiver ran through the crowd.
The rise of a demon, they thought.
"What's more," Ethan continued, unfazed, "I didn't break any rules. I obtained the token entirely on my own. Isn't that worth celebrating?"
His smile was disarming, almost innocent.
The professors exchanged glances, falling into a heavy silence. He was right. He hadn't moved an inch, yet he'd secured the trophy. For a young wizard who'd only been at Hogwarts for a few months—while his peers were still mastering Alohomora—Ethan had conjured something as bizarre and innovative as "the portal." Given time, his name might well be etched into Hogwarts' chronicles, perhaps even rewriting wizarding history.
The professors understood the implications. Though they resided in the sheltered halls of Hogwarts, they weren't naive. Genius often defied convention. So what if he'd blown up the examination hall? No one had died… well, except for poor Sean Mike from Ravenclaw, who'd been knocked unconscious by a falling stone pillar and was now occupying a prime bed in the Hospital Wing.
"Mr. Vincent didn't violate any rules… though, to be fair, we never set rules to account for this," one professor admitted.
"He has the trophy. He should be selected."
"An average student couldn't even dream of disrupting an exam like this. It only proves Mr. Vincent's capability."
"Indeed, such talent should be showcased to other schools."
Let Ethan wreak havoc at the other schools during the Challenge, their knowing glances seemed to say.
Professor McGonagall's irritation flared as her colleagues so readily excused Ethan's antics. They'd all thought, How much trouble could one student cause? Could he really become the next Dark Lord? She'd shared that sentiment once, but as Ethan's antics escalated, her unease deepened. Thankfully, Professor Quirrell would soon return from recovery, and he'd surely deliver a fair punishment.
Or so she hoped.
Ethan's voice broke through her thoughts. "So, I passed the selection trial, right?"
After a tense silence and a quick consultation with the other professors, Professor McGonagall nodded reluctantly. "Yes. Congratulations, Mr. Vincent. You've earned the right to participate in the Treasure Hunt Challenge."
"Yay!" Ethan's grin was radiant, almost childlike.
Professor McGonagall felt her resolve waver. No! It's a charm offensive! She turned abruptly, joining the other professors in levitating the injured students and hurrying back toward Hogwarts. Their retreating figures looked suspiciously like a tactical withdrawal.
Ethan's gaze caught a Slytherin girl with a dark golden ponytail glancing back at him. Despite being covered in slime, her posture remained regal. Gemma Farley, the Slytherin prefect, he noted idly before tossing the obsidian ring back into his satchel.
[No—]
A faint, almost imperceptible roar echoed briefly before fading into the darkness of the bag.
"Phew." Ethan exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Securing his place in the Challenge was a relief, though he felt a twinge of regret that his fireworks display hadn't fully showcased the charm of his paintings. He'd been too cautious. In the official Challenge, he vowed to double his efforts, aiming to boost his soul fusion and meet the second condition for advancement.
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