"Hmm?"
Ethan turned his head instinctively and asked, "What is it—"
The words died in his throat.
Ethan suddenly froze.
He realized something was wrong!
...His current identity was the fifth-year Ravenclaw Savior, Ethan Vincent.
Not the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Ann Norn.
Ethan narrowed his eyes, fixing his gaze on Harry, who stood a short distance away wearing a look of utter shock.
A moment passed.
Then, the corners of his mouth split into a wide, exaggerated grin!
It looked almost painted on, suddenly radiating a terrifyingly artificial aura—like something masquerading as human!
"Eep..."
Not far away, the massive body of the White Dragon shuddered.
A trace of pure terror surfaced in its pupils.
It tried its hardest to curl its colossal frame into a ball.
It was supposed to be a majestic dragon, yet now it cowered like a little white rabbit hiding from a predator.
"Professor Norn?" Ethan tilted his head and smiled. "Is he here in person, Harry?"
Ah, ah~
Using the inertia of the address to trick him into responding to a name he shouldn't react to...
Harry, you truly are the Savior chosen by the Wizarding World~
—How delightful!
...However.
A flash of cold calculation cut through the mania in Ethan's cobalt-blue eyes.
He thought to himself:
Strictly speaking, "Professor Norn" shouldn't have any business here. It seems more like Harry didn't dare mention that other name, so he was probing indirectly.
For example...
[Mr. Lamp].
On second thought.
Ethan glimpsed the blooming sunflowers out of the corner of his eye and let out an understanding "Ah."
It was the sunflowers that gave it away.
In the Chamber of Secrets, while disguised as [Mr. Lamp], he had indeed used sunflower bombs.
But that couldn't really be counted as a mistake on his part.
One could only say that his magical power was just so bright and righteous.
When it landed, it automatically transformed into vibrant, energetic sunflowers.
On the other side, the sunflowers swayed gently as they absorbed the thick blood.
Their petals were golden and gorgeous.
Teeming with life.
"...No, I misspoke, Ethan," Harry said through gritted teeth.
Facing Ethan's unwavering smile, he couldn't help but take a half-step back.
He felt his heart skipping beats in terror!
—Why did Ethan respond to the name "Professor Norn"?
Could he really be...
At this moment, Harry's mind was a chaotic mess.
Ethan Vincent, Professor Ann Norn, [Mr. Lamp]...
One was the bright new Savior, one was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and one was the Wizarding World's greatest enemy...
What exactly was the relationship between these three?
Harry felt that he was only one step away from the truth.
However.
Whether he couldn't uncover the truth or simply didn't want to believe in that possibility...
Harry couldn't give an answer.
"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked.
His gaze darted suspiciously back and forth between Harry and Ethan.
Harry, mind in turmoil, replied offhandedly, "My head is just full of Ethan."
Ron: ???
Whoosh.
Even faster than Ron's scream was Luna's sharp, piercing gaze.
She stared at Harry—who looked like he had just opened the door to a strange new world—then tilted her head and leaned against Ethan.
Resting her head on Ethan's shoulder, she looked up with a small face and smiled, "You protected everyone from the bad guys again, Ethan~ You really are a big hero!"
Ethan chuckled.
His expression softened instantly.
He lowered his head, brushed the stray hair from Luna's forehead, and spoke with righteous gravity:
"For everyone's sake, this sacrifice is nothing!"
Dynamic waves of pink bubbles seemed to radiate around the two of them.
Forming an insurmountable barrier between them and everyone else.
Harry: ?
No, seriously, bro.
We were in the middle of a confrontation, and you just turned around and started flirting?
This makes me feel really awkward for being so on edge just now!
Harry suddenly felt like he had won the match but lost at life.
He silently shifted his gaze.
Immediately locking eyes with Ron, who was hugging his chest in a defensive posture.
Ron looked terrified: "Mate, mate...!"
Harry: ??
...This Wizarding World doesn't seem to have much need for saving. Harry thought deeply.
His tender heart became as cold and hard as a ruthless swordsman's on this day (jk).
[You have obtained "Crimson Bone Spur Saw Cleaver (Incomplete Version)"!]
[A weapon capable of Blood Magic. The more blood it absorbs, the more powerful it becomes.]
Ethan put away the saw cleaver.
This blade was the type that damaged the user almost as much as the enemy. Although Ethan liked its appearance, he wouldn't use it directly.
"It still needs some discipline."
Ethan was already conceptualizing how it would bloom with new life on his canvas.
Saw Cleaver: shivering.jpg
The group didn't have much time to catch their breath.
Soon.
Dozens of carts came rumbling down rapidly from above.
The shouting of Goblins and wizard guards echoed down.
It made sense.
Given the massive commotion just now, this was why the Goblins were so late in arriving.
The employees... were probably struggling to rally anyone willing to step forward and fight the Chosen of the Four Gods.
Ethan: "No time to delay, let's move out immediately!"
Harry didn't ask any more questions.
He buried the seeds of suspicion in his heart for the time being.
And followed the main group.
...Mm, it was just because he needed to think it over carefully.
Definitely not because he didn't want to be abandoned in the middle of a Goblin encirclement.
Harry told himself firmly.
Quickly breaking open the door to Bellatrix's vault.
Everyone was instantly blinded by the mountains of gold and silver piled to the brim.
"Bloody hell..." Ron muttered in a daze, a sour feeling in his heart. "Why are Dark Wizards so rich?"
—His family had sacrificed so much for the war.
His parents were both members of the Order of the Phoenix.
Yet.
They lived so frugally.
...Is the Ministry of Magic really on the side of the White Wizards?
Or are they on the side of the Galleons?
Neville's face was even more ashen, his fists—size of sandbags—clenched tight.
In his eyes, those mountains of Galleons, Sickles, and jewelry...
Were all dripping with dark red blood.
Emitting screams of agony.
The young wizards scrambled through the Gemino and Flagrante Curses.
Successfully, they retrieved the all-important Hufflepuff's Cup!
[Congratulations! You have obtained a Rare Treasure—Hufflepuff's Cup (Contaminated)]
[One of the four founders of Hogwarts, Lady Helga Hufflepuff, dedicated her life to ensuring all young wizards were fed and clothed.]
[This golden cup is a precious artifact that embodies her philosophy.]
[It can endlessly pour forth a spiritual elixir capable of instantly curing all diseases, hunger, cold, and other hardships.]
[It contains immense life force sufficient to command the Progenitor Giant.]
[However, through the passage of eras...]
[Now, only a single drop of the elixir remains inside.]
[Furthermore, the filth upon it must first be exorcised.]
...So Voldemort is being called "filth."
Makes him sound like something dirty on a toilet seat.
Ethan thought nonchalantly.
"The curse is easy to handle; I can just use the 'Wolf of Division' painting to devour it. The key is how to use this last drop of elixir."
Feed it to the Progenitor Giant?
Or... use it to completely cure Neville's parents.
Ethan glanced at Neville, who was clenching his fists in silence.
His eyes darkened.
He didn't notice the fleeting flash of light inside the cup.
On the outer wall, the exquisite carving of a badger quickly wagged its tail.
When Ethan looked over, sensing something.
It had returned to its motionless state.
[Hidden admonition detected:]
["Young wizard of the future, this is a—bzzzt—"!]
The system subtitles suddenly blurred.
Then instantly vanished!
It was as if nothing had happened.
—[Young wizard of the future, this is a trial. Only by harboring a sincere heart can you pass the test...]
"And unlock the true power of the Cup!"
"Hehe, what do you think of writing it like this? Isn't it interesting?"
A thousand years ago.
The founder of Hufflepuff, Helga Hufflepuff.
Stood amidst the lush green grass of Hogwarts Castle.
Smiling, she spoke to her three companions.
Blue skies and white clouds.
A gentle breeze caressed her aged face, tracing the lines etched by time.
Her brown skirt, stained with soil, lifted in the wind as Lady Helga gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
She spoke with gentle anticipation:
"Perhaps, the one who passes the test will be the child who looks least like a Hufflepuff~"
Perhaps they may not appear like a Hufflepuff on the surface.
But they will surely possess a heart of gold.
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my pa-treon:
pat reon .c-om/windkaze