Luna's house.
The structure, towering into the sky like an enormous chess piece, had blossomed into a springtime wonderland, with everything bursting into vibrant life.
Yet, for some inexplicable reason, not a single insect buzzed or bird chirped; the silence hung as heavy as in a graveyard.
In the wizarding village, no one dared venture near this place anymore.
Ethan sat at the desk by the window, his gentle eyes radiating pure innocence.
When he strolled down the street, older sisters and odd uncles always offered him sweets.
"A letter from the client... too long, didn't read."
"Oh wow, this hefty pouch actually holds a full two thousand Galleons! That's forty or fifty times the original amount—how generous."
Ethan weighed the money bag in surprise.
The golden gleam inside shone even brighter than the rare sunlight in Britain.
Quite a bountiful harvest.
It seemed the name "Mr. Lamp" had instilled a profound sense of trust in the client.
Indeed, picking an easy-to-remember alias had been the right move.
Ethan cheerfully tucked away the money bag.
Beyond the substantial reward, Ethan had also seized a haul of spoils from those Dark Wizards.
A grand total of five Galleons, thirty-eight Sickles, and a scattering of Bronze Knuts.
Damn, they're dirt poor.
However, one item among them piqued Ethan's interest.
It was a soft piece of parchment, roughly half a meter square.
It carried a faint greenish hue and felt remarkably like chicken skin to the touch.
But unlike chicken skin, it wasn't rough or pimply; instead, it was astonishingly smooth.
When draped over his arm, it felt cool and clung perfectly.
[You have discovered an extraordinary material: Merperson chest skin]
[Contraband obtained through illegal channels, can be used as a second-tier canvas]
[Like the Merperson's song, it can enhance mental magic inscribed upon it]
[However, a Merperson's voice is incredibly harsh out of water, please use with caution]
An extraordinary canvas!
This thrilled Ethan even more than the two thousand Galleons.
After all, the latter was far harder to come by.
"Hmm, why not use it to make a club recruitment poster for the start of term..."
Ethan mused, then broke into a grin.
"It'll definitely make a lasting impression on the new students~"
Besides that, there were some assorted knick-knacks.
And a suspicious photo of Minister Fudge clad only in his underwear.
He really wondered who had such bizarre tastes.
Ethan carefully stowed it away, figuring it might prove invaluable someday.
Very good, wizarding world—love from Knockturn Alley.
Of course.
The most crucial prize, though, was this black-covered diary.
On the cover, the faded gold lettering revealed it dated back fifty years.
Ethan dipped his quill in ink, paused in thought, and quickly scrawled on the page:
[If I write someone's name here, will that person die?]
The handwriting vanished.
But no response came for a long while.
Ethan: ?
[If you can't do it, just say so, you useless piece of junk, it's fine, I don't mind.]
[Why aren't you answering? Are you asleep? Mr. Tom Riddle?]
Growing bored with the wait, Ethan started doodling aimlessly on it.
Tentacled octopus-men, fish-featured humans, skeletal ghouls...
A few minutes later.
A line of jagged words burst onto the page:
[Stop drawing!!!]
Followed by three stark red exclamation marks that seemed to stab through the paper, conveying the writer's furious exasperation.
Ethan: [Great. I was planning to use it as an infinitely usable sketchbook—that's actually a good idea.]
The diary bypassed the subject and cut to the chase:
[I can see that you are a person with a dark soul, a demon disguised among humans… Join forces with me, I can grant you supreme power]
Seductive magic oozed from the diary.
Like a lover's murmur in the ear, it burrowed straight into the mind.
This was potent Dark Magic, bound to the diary, impervious to water or flame.
It had never failed.
However—
[Curse Resistance activated]
It felt like a spring sprite brushing his forehead, sweeping away all haze and weariness in an instant!
It was off because it wasn't on.
Ethan remained utterly unfazed, propping his chin on his hand with a smile as he watched Tom persist in his temptations:
[Do you know Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets? I once opened it and found an incredibly terrifying creature inside—]
Ethan: [Shadows of the Old Ones? Colour Out of Space? Nyarlathotep?]
Tom: [….. A genuine Basilisk that could kill simply by being looked at.]
Compared to those, the Basilisk seemed downright friendly.
Why was this kid's mind crammed with such weird stuff? What had the world come to!
Tom shivered at the notion.
[Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets doesn't just have one scary monster]
[In fact, it also hides the "true" Chamber of Secrets]
You know about the true Chamber of Secrets too?
Ethan arched an eyebrow.
Little Tom had been quite the busy bee at Hogwarts.
A Horcrux and a secret chamber.
Maybe Tom could lead him to Salazar Slytherin's true Chamber of Secrets...
[Extraordinary existence detected!]
[Tom Riddle's diary meets the conditions—an existence not of this world!]
[A painting exhibition can be prepared for it to meet the promotion requirements!]
Ethan's eyes sparkled!
His gaze toward the diary softened with sudden kindness.
He was tempted to unleash dragonfire on Tom, letting the long-isolated soul feel the warmth of the human world.
But then again.
How could a kind-hearted kid like him bear to dispatch an evil soul straight to Merlin?
No, first it had to endure all manner of earthly torments and savor the joy of suffering. After all, he himself was immune to the temptations and curses.
Naturally, he could wring out every last drop of value from Tom.
The diary itself was a formidable magical artifact.
Perhaps it really could serve as an "infinitely usable sketchbook."
Inside the diary.
Noticing Ethan's prolonged silence, Tom pressed on eagerly:
[Although I am just an innocent soul and can no longer personally step into Hogwarts to explore]
[But I will help you, help those who come after, to find Salazar Slytherin's true Chamber of Secrets!]
[To obtain power and treasures you cannot imagine!]
His tone brimmed with unchecked desire and avarice.
Like a venomous snake, barely restraining its hunger, luring its prey to secure even greater rewards for itself.
If it were anyone else—like those Dark Wizards from Knockturn Alley—they'd be hooked by the dangling prize, spurred by the magic's sway, and charge ahead without a second thought.
However.
Every one of Ethan's successes so far had come from his own hard work.
He wouldn't fall for little Tom's bait!
[Curse Resistance]! Activate!
Ethan picked up his quill and wrote:
[Very good. Since we're going for excitement, let's see it through.]
[Let me drag more people into this mess]
[Only in murky waters is it harder to discern the truth of events…]
Gilderoy Lockhart's study.
Lockhart's face was ashen and drawn, his golden curls matted against his scalp as he stormed back and forth across the room.
On the desk lay the shredded remnants of the Daily Prophet.
"Nonsense, utter nonsense! They actually claimed I lost, that I was just a stepping stone to promote that out-of-nowhere 'Mr. Lamp'! And that photo! It's a blatant invasion of privacy! I'm going to sue them!"
"I don't remember a thing... It must have been that scoundrel Mr. Whatever-his-name, sneaking an Obliviate on me when I wasn't looking!"
"If I ever cross paths with him again, hmph!"
Lockhart whipped out his wand and flourished it through the air like a fencing foil.
Just then.
A majestic, imposing owl barreled through the window with a thud, toppling an inkwell and depositing a letter.
Lockhart: ???
He'd never encountered such a domineering bird!
"You wretched creature!"
Lockhart grumbled as he snatched up the letter, eyeing the blank envelope curiously.
But as his gaze landed on the contents, his heart skipped a beat!
[Dear Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts.]
[I have some ideas about the curriculum that I am eager to share with you. After all, the young wizards of Hogwarts need a teacher from whom they can learn real skills, don't they?]
[I hope you won't disappoint me.]
[—Mr. Lamp]
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