Chapter 343: What? You're Saying Ethan Is Going to Rob Whose Vault?
"I — I did it?"
Harry stared at his own hand, then broke into a wide, disbelieving grin. "I actually managed wandless magic! Did you all see that?!"
"Congratulations," Hermione said, very flatly.
Her eyes burned with envy and determination in equal measure. She kept looking toward Professor Unknown with barely concealed longing, silently willing him to fire something at her too.
Privately, she had begun to suspect that this seemingly terrifying professor would not actually cause them any real physical harm. Their mental wellbeing, on the other hand… that was an entirely different matter.
Unfortunately, Ethan hadn't noticed Hermione's desperate stare. He turned to Harry with an approving look.
"Well done, Mr Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor, for courage in the face of danger."
Only then did the student Harry had shielded fully process what had happened. The colour drained from his face. He began to shake.
If Harry hadn't thrown himself in the way…
Ethan turned towards Snape, whose expression had gone very dark, and had just begun to curl one corner of his mask upward when a furious voice cut him off.
"That was completely unacceptable, Professor Unknown!!"
Professor McGonagall came striding forward, shaking with barely contained fury, her eyes blazing.
"You — you fired the Killing Curse at a student?! Have you lost your mind?! I am reporting this to Dumbledore immediately! If Harry hadn't reacted in time—"
She stopped.
Something clicked.
"Precisely," Ethan said.
Through the mask, two unseen eyes settled on the agitated professor with quiet patience.
"Do you truly believe," he said slowly and carefully, "that a beginner's fragile shield could withstand one of the three Unforgivable Curses?"
"But you said — you clearly said—"
She broke off again.
Because she had just realised that what he'd actually said wasn't Avada Kedavra.
It had been some nonsensical phrase that wasn't a spell at all.
The silence that followed was complete.
Professor McGonagall stood very still, facing that spiral face with its built-in psychological assault, and felt a headache of considerable magnitude taking shape behind her eyes.
This feeling. This precise feeling of someone dancing right up to the line and back again, over and over, with a smile on their face.
Is that you?
Ethan Vincent??
"Rest assured," Ethan said pleasantly, "I am a kind and gentle soul who cares deeply for his students."
He spread his arms wide like a benevolent deity preparing to embrace all of creation, his voice warm and magnanimous.
"The world may be dark — but I will always be there to light the way. In fact, at this very moment, I am guiding everyone to shine."
Professor McGonagall: "…"
Students: "…"
"We'll be burnt to ash before we get the chance to shine," Ron muttered.
The cat professor looked at the glowing Spiral Being and felt something inside her finally give way.
She gave up.
After all, Dumbledore had personally chosen him. Surely nothing could go truly wrong. And hadn't Harry managed wandless magic in barely half a lesson? That was practically a miracle already.
Professor McGonagall retreated, exhausted to her core. But not before she drew herself up and said, through gritted teeth:
"Ten additional points to Gryffindor. For Harry's outstanding performance."
Rewarding her own house student. Her one remaining act of principle.
"I'm glad we understand each other," Ethan said, nodding with satisfaction.
Truly. Exceptional people were always drawn to one another. Professor McGonagall's obvious interest in him could only mean she had recognised his remarkable talent.
"Now then…" Ethan turned his head slowly. "It's your turn, Professor Snape."
The spiral carved into the flesh mask gave a small, unsettling twitch.
Snape: "..."
"..."
Before Ethan could subject him to any further psychological torment, Snape raised both hands in a stiff gesture of surrender, stepped back two paces, and said nothing — jaw tight, eyes fixed, expression dark enough to wring water from.
He had to admit it. Against all expectations, Ethan had somehow stumbled into a genuine result.
Snape shot Harry one scorching look.
Potions class. We'll settle this in Potions class.
"Oh — Professor Snape," Ethan added, in a tone of innocent enquiry. "You won't be taking any of this out on my students in Potions, will you? You're not that petty. Are you?"
Snape: "..."
"..."
If they had not been standing in front of the entire staff and student body, he would have lunged across the space and torn that infuriating mask clean off.
"How very thoughtful of you to ask, Professor Unknown," Snape said, smiling in a way that did not reach anything above his chin. The last two words came out as though he were chewing on them.
He breathed in deeply. Reminded himself, firmly, that he was above stooping to the level of an artificial human.
Then fixed Ethan with a long, dark look, and said, voice low and rough:
"We shall see."
Not just Harry. You boasted you'd have every student in this room casting wandless magic. Every single one. That has never been done in a thousand years of Hogwarts history. It is not possible.
The tension between them crackled, entirely one-sided.
In the corner of the hall, Yaxley watched from the shadows. Something unreadable passed through his eyes as he observed Snape.
Professor Snape backed down that quickly?
Ethan blinked behind the mask.
Was it the face? It must be the face.
It was remarkable, really. Ever since putting on the mask, people had been treating him with such consistent courtesy. What a superficial world this was.
"Well then — since no one has any further objections…"
Ethan turned to face the students, who were staring at him in collective dread, and raised one hand with cheerful purpose.
A snap of his fingers.
Click.
The two stone gargoyles, entirely unscathed, raised their weapons with a grinding, mechanical crunch. Their carved faces looked down at the cowering students below, casting vast, suffocating shadows.
Behind the mask, Ethan's smile went wide.
His robes billowed in the rising dust.
"Class," he said with great contentment, "continues."
BOOM.
"AAAAAAAAH—"
Inspired screaming filled the hall from wall to wall, the echoes layering over each other until they blended into something almost musical.
In the chaos and the flying dust, a line of pale blue text surfaced before Ethan's eyes:
[You prepared thoroughly and delivered a spectacular Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson!]
[You have left each student with a profound and lasting memory.]
[Soul Fusion increased by 0.2%]
[Current Soul Fusion: 94.0%]
A warm current rose from somewhere deep in his chest.
"Phew…"
Ethan half-closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the faint, pleasant elevation of his magical power.
Only one percent left until the 95% threshold. I'll probably need to reach the Transcendent stage before it can climb any further.
All the way to 100%.
When that day comes, my art will set a new current through the entire world.
His eyes shimmered, deep and restless, like a sea turning over in the dark.
For now, what needed to be done was getting into Bellatrix's Gringotts vault and retrieving one of Voldemort's Horcruxes.
Hufflepuff's Cup.
Magnificent charge-up fuel for the Ancient Giant Ancestor card.
Ethan considered his options.
First, I'll need Bellatrix's wand to pass Gringotts' verification.
He sighed with the air of a man who genuinely wished things could be simpler.
"There are plenty of methods that aren't exactly humane. But I am a person who loves peace, and I'd prefer to do this properly if at all possible."
Forcing his way in would take all the fun out of it.
Although — if the goblins proved uncooperative — then regrettably, the "total demolition" approach would have to be considered.
Besides, obtaining Bellatrix's wand would make excellent practical training for the students.
Righteously seizing the treasures of a notorious Death Eater.
Very Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Ethan smiled — bright, open, thoroughly satisfied.
And then, casually, as an afterthought, he raised one hand.
Bang.
The enormous battle-axe swinging toward him was sent flying away like a scrap of paper.
The shockwave that followed was so powerful the gargoyle itself staggered backward, nearly losing its footing.
The students froze mid-run.
Then slowly turned around.
That was — that was—
"No wonder he treats this so casually," Michael said, eyes wide. "To him, this really is basic training."
"Imagine if the final exam is fighting him directly. Ha — obviously joking—"
"SHUT UP!" the surrounding students shrieked in unison. "YOU AND YOUR MOUTH!!"
It was only the first lesson, and things were already this intense.
Were they really going to end up being sent on an expedition to a Death Eater's lair?!
"I'm transferring to Beauxbatons to see the girls there — OW—"
A merciless jab silenced both the student and the dream in one clean motion.
Someone wailed, voicing what everyone felt.
After the open lesson, the hospital wing remained brightly lit well into the evening.
When it was finally over, Professor Snape returned to his office alone and collapsed into his armchair, eyes closed.
Silence. Nothing but a few bird calls drifting in through the window.
Then, after a long moment, Snape's eyes flew open.
He shot upright from the sofa.
That man is genuinely unhinged!
"A perfectly ordinary student suddenly deciding to play professor…" He ground his teeth. "What in Merlin's name is Dumbledore thinking?! At this rate, he'll be headmaster by next year!"
Knock. Knock.
Snape's chest gave a sharp lurch.
His first instinct — entirely involuntary — was that it was Ethan.
He glanced toward the window.
Underground office. No window.
He stood motionless for a moment, then let out a short, contemptuous scoff. "Am I actually frightened of a child…?"
He rose, crossed to the door with stiff, deliberate steps, and carefully positioned himself beside it. Peering through the spy hole, he saw that the figure outside was not who he had expected.
One eyebrow lifted slightly in genuine surprise.
"You, of all people—?"