"Werewolf blood."
The words resonated in Ethan's ears like a bolt of lightning ripping through the midnight sky, or sunlight bursting through heavy storm clouds.
His eyes widened, and the mental fog that had clouded his thoughts suddenly lifted.
"Yes, werewolf blood... the blood of the one being cured...!"
Ethan leaped up from the sofa.
His cobalt-blue eyes sparkled with revelation.
He muttered to himself, pacing back and forth across the room.
His mind raced at breakneck speed.
Incorporating the variable of werewolf blood into the existing potion formula, he mentally rebuilt a dozen potential outcomes.
In that moment,
Ethan wasn't just a gifted artist.
He was about to demonstrate, through sheer intellect, that he truly belonged in Ravenclaw—the house renowned for its sharpest minds among Hogwarts' four.
In the Enlightenment Society's common room,
everyone fell silent at Ethan's abrupt movement.
They watched their president—the undisputed genius of Hogwarts—with a mix of surprise and eager anticipation.
And Ethan never failed to meet his followers' hopes.
With a sharp "snap!"
Ethan halted his pacing.
His long, slender fingers snapped together, producing a crisp, resonant click.
It was as if a switch had been flipped.
The room held its collective breath, hearts racing with nervous excitement.
Hermione even trembled a little, her cheeks flushing pink.
Her eyes gleamed as she gazed at Ethan.
"I know what we've been missing."
Ethan's lips curved into a confident smile, his cobalt-blue eyes brimming with bold assurance.
He pronounced each word clearly:
"Werewolf blood."
"Based on my calculations, the reason the shrivelfig and moonpetal flower wouldn't fuse in the final stage is because the moonpetal flower's energy is too overwhelming."
"It purifies the 'material' outright."
"But if we add the blood of the person being cured at the same time, and administer the potion to the transformed werewolf right after brewing, when its potency is at its peak—"
"Then we can break the curse in one decisive stroke! And cure the werewolf completely!!!"
His voice rang out, echoing through the common room cluttered with cauldrons, books, and assorted personal belongings.
Hermione furrowed her brow slightly.
She grabbed her notebook and ran through the calculations meticulously.
Her eyes brightened, and she nodded. "From the ingredient reactions, this does seem viable..."
"But, Ethan,"
Hermione looked up, her brows knitting together in concern as she hesitated:
"If, as you say, it has to be administered when the potion is at its freshest—"
"Then that means we have to brew it on Announcement Day itself, finishing the final step right there on the spot!"
Hermione's eyes widened.
In a flash, a cascade of disastrous scenarios flooded her mind!
Like the potion failing, Ethan facing public humiliation...
Being mocked by the Daily Prophet... eventually turning to the dark side, dropping out, effortlessly overthrowing Lord Voldemort, and rising as the third Dark Lord to dominate the world...
Oh! She couldn't allow that to happen!
Just then,
Luna suddenly clapped her hands in delight and said,
"Wonderful! Now we can demonstrate the entire brewing process to everyone! It'll be even more exciting!"
Hermione arched her eyebrows sharply.
She crossed her arms, fixing Luna with a stern glare:
"On the spot, there's only one shot. What if it fails?"
Luna replied softly, "We only have one moonpetal flower left anyway. No matter what, we've got just one chance."
An invisible spark crackled between the two.
Zzzzt.
It left everyone else shrinking back like frightened quail, too intimidated to chime in.
Ethan must have his hands full...
Harry sighed inwardly.
Just then,
Ethan turned his head abruptly.
He looked at Harry and posed a seemingly unrelated question:
"Harry, wasn't your mother quite skilled in Potions?"
Harry blinked in surprise.
Then he nodded:
"She was... I heard Sirius mention it."
"My mother was the brightest student of her year, excelling in every subject, and she was the Potions professor's favorite."
A flicker of impatience crossed Harry's face.
"Hmm," Ethan nodded thoughtfully.
The voice that had prompted him earlier—
It had indeed been Harry's mother!
Lily Evans!
But there was no question—Lily was dead.
She had perished on that fateful night amid the flash of green light.
Could it be... the hidden effect of the Tier 3 painting he had created, "Lily: Love Eternal"?
[Congratulations!]
[You have triggered a hidden effect of a Tier 3 painting — Character Specialty!]
[When you use a real historical figure as a blueprint to create an extraordinary Tier 3 painting,]
[The portrait has a chance to inherit their talents from reality!]
[Lily's Specialty: Potion Master's Whisper]
[At certain moments, Lily will give you inspiration and hints regarding Potions.]
Accompanied by a faint, almost inaudible laugh,
A red-haired woman's silhouette seemed to flicker before Ethan's eyes.
It could actually inherit the talents of the portrait's subject!
This was beyond what a Tier 2 Living Painting could achieve!
Ethan's lips curved into a delighted grin as he thought:
As expected, with that "historical" bonus, it's on another level...
In this case,
It was all but confirmed.
Adding "werewolf blood" was the right move!
Ethan lifted his gaze to the hesitant club members.
He flashed a broad smile, declaring with unwavering certainty:
"We'll proceed as I planned."
"Don't look so glum—perk up. After all—"
"We're about to perform a miracle before the entire wizarding world."
On Announcement Day, as evening fell.
End-of-term exams loomed near.
Yet at Hogwarts, even the most diligent students couldn't concentrate on their books right now.
They clustered noisily on the lawn outside.
With wide-eyed curiosity and bubbling excitement, they watched as waves of reporters streamed in.
They spotted Ministry of Magic officials who frequently graced the newspaper pages.
And those white-bearded wizards who exuded an air of scholarly wisdom and enigmatic power.
Ron: "? Why do I seem to see a sword hanging from an old wizard's waist?"
Dean Thomas pointed excitedly:
"Look! That's Rufus Scrimgeour! The new Minister for Magic!"
At that,
The students craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the man leading the Ministry officials.
He walked with a slight limp but took long, purposeful strides, his keen, stern eyes like those of an aging lion.
The new Minister for Magic extended his hand to shake Dumbledore's, saying,
"Whether Mr. Ethan Vincent succeeds in brewing the werewolf-curing potion or not—"
"With his talent and prowess, he is a valuable ally for our Ministry of Magic."
His words carried admiration,
But he clearly harbored doubts about Ethan's success.
"Hehehe," Dumbledore chuckled, "Then let's wait and see."
Scrimgeour pulled back his hand and gazed at Hogwarts, a touch of nostalgia in his eyes.
Suddenly, his expression froze.
He asked in bewilderment, "? Why is there a... 'stick' protruding from Hogwarts Castle?"
For some reason,
As Scrimgeour eyed the mysterious object jutting from the castle's peak,
He had an inexplicable sense of railroad tracks.
But a train running through Hogwarts?
Impossible.
Headmaster Dumbledore stiffened: "That's a memento left by one of our students... Hehehe."
His tone
Held a trace of gritted teeth.
A memento that had pried off Hogwarts' "lid"?
Scrimgeour was a bit perplexed.
But he didn't press further, nodding: "Hmm, quite artistic."
On the other side,
Rita Skeeter, a reporter for the Daily Prophet, scribbled furiously in her notebook.
Her cheeks glowed with excitement, and she kept licking the tip of her quill.
Her red lips murmured:
"Ethan Vincent... crushing defeat... botched werewolf potion... Hmm~ What headline would suit best?"
In any case,
That third-year brat couldn't possibly crack the werewolf curse.
Otherwise, every seasoned wizard here, including Hogwarts' Potions Master Severus Snape,
Would have to bow down and kowtow to Ethan.
Finally,
Amid the mounting anticipation,
The star of the show arrived.
"Look! Ethan's here!"
Someone in the crowd yelled.
Instantly,
All heads swiveled in unison!
"Click-clack! Click-clack!"
The shutters snapped in a relentless barrage, flashes blazing bright enough to repel dementors.
Under everyone's scrutiny,
Ethan strode forward slowly, clad in sleek black robes, elegant and refined like a noble heir.
His composed, arrogant poise, his strikingly handsome features, his tall and commanding presence—
Sparked a wave of screams from the crowd.
"It just goes to show, if you're good-looking enough, people overlook your scary side."
Michael remarked sourly.
Yet his eyes shone with deep respect and admiration.
This was their Ravenclaw eagle!
But trailing behind Ethan,
Everyone noticed—
Just a cauldron, still simmering over an open flame?
"What's this? Why are they wheeling out the pot?"
"Has the potion not been finished yet?"
"Ah! Is Ethan planning to brew this potion right here, on the spot?!"
This audacious decision
Ignited the entire scene!
Triggering an absolute uproar!!!
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