"Merry Christmas! Good evening, everyone—"
Slughorn's voice cut off abruptly.
The smile froze on his face. Within his squinted, pea-sized eyes, a sudden surge of unbelievable astonishment and terror erupted!
In the venue, which should have been bright and filled with laughter, everything was now shrouded in a ghostly, underworld-blue glow.
Crimson branches, resembling pulsating veins, clung to the walls and floors, interwoven in thick patches that throbbed rhythmically. Upon these vines grew vast clusters of ethereal blue Mandrake flowers—the "Flowers of Hell," where petals and leaves never meet, symbolizing eternal parting. Their slender, lush petals emitted a faint blue light, illuminating the surroundings.
If the timing weren't so horrific, Slughorn might have actually praised the rarity of these specimens; they looked as authentic as if they had been plucked straight from the abyss.
However, as a living human—and one who had arrived expecting a festive dinner among the living—Slughorn's teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. This was truly the episode where he felt most like turning back into a sofa.
Click-clack, click-clack.
the sound of rhythmic tapping echoed through the deathly silence.
As if a sleeping monster had been awakened, several blurry figures slowly turned around. Harry, Hermione, Neville, Malfoy...
The invited students stood like lifelike dolls, expressionless and pale as death. Their hollow eyes fixated on the newly arrived Professor Slughorn.
Then came a faint, sickening sound from above.
Creak, crack.
From the center of the hall, above the hanging crystal chandelier, came a noise like a massive arthropod slowly stretching its limbs.
A large, gaunt arm reached out and gripped the chandelier. A pale, greyish palm clenched the crystal globes, pulling down a body as massive and bloated as an insect's pupa. Despite its apparent bulk, the creature moved with the agility of a spider, hanging upside down from the ceiling.
"Ah... ahhh..."
Slughorn couldn't help but stumble backward, his head craned up, his eyes bulging to their limit! His hand fumbled behind him for the doorknob, twisting it desperately, but the door remained as immovable as a stone wall. He was forced to watch as the twisted thing crawled down toward him.
Finally, the face of Ethan Vincent was revealed.
His respected Headmaster, the leader of the Enlightenment Society, the greatest enemy of the modern wizarding world, and the Third Dark Lord.
Ethan was looking at him with a beaming smile in those cobalt-blue eyes. Several extra limbs flexed and retracted as he slowly descended from the chandelier, closing the distance.
His mouth opened, and he enunciated each word clearly:
"My dear Professor Slughorn, how is the progress on that Maledictus potion?"
Slughorn's heart skipped a beat, and his face turned deathly pale! His lips moved, but he couldn't squeeze out a single word. In that moment, he felt the primal fear of a student who had forgotten his homework and was being questioned by a teacher—except this "teacher" was a monster from the underworld.
...Senior Snape, you were right.
"I—I'm sorry! I'll do it! I'll make up for it right now! Please don't eat me, Lord Vincent!!!"
Thud!
Slughorn's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed in a dead faint.
Ethan: "?"
Looking at the old professor foaming at the mouth on the floor, Ethan scratched his head in confusion.
"Is he that excited? It seems Professor Slughorn really loves this grand gift. I used the Flowers of the Underworld cultivated from behind the Veil, parts of Nagini's body, and the Acromantula parts that only Hagrid could procure! Every bit of decoration in this room cost a fortune in golden Galleons! I ask you, which Headmaster could be more generous than this?!"
Ethan had even considered the aesthetic coordination, arranging the hall to look like a "beautiful wonderland." He had donned his "new clothes" made of Acromantula limbs just to greet and console the hardworking Professor Slughorn during this important Christmas banquet.
"The old professor was so moved he started crying."
Ethan climbed down from the ceiling and gently patted the old man's body. Then, being thoughtful, he covered Slughorn with a white cloth.
Can't have him catching a cold.
The students: "..."
As the magical threads connecting them snapped, they all collapsed to the ground like puppets with their strings cut.
Ron stared with wide eyes, trembling as he spoke, "Has the new Professor's curse started already?"
The Christmas banquet had turned directly into a funeral!
Harry massaged his temples and turned to Hermione, who had a look of "Ethan can do no wrong" on her face.
"See? There are things in Hogwarts ten thousand times scarier than that old textbook! There's nothing to be surprised about."
Harry stepped aside to make a path for Professor Snape, whose face was as dark as iron. Then, baring his teeth in a grin that made him look like a pampered, dim-witted heir, Harry said loudly:
"Maybe that 'Half-Blood Prince' fellow is just some lonely, edgy loser! Why else would he give himself such a cringy, chuunibyou name?"
"Hahaha... ha?"
Harry's laughter died instantly. He realized, a second too late, that the air had become pin-drop silent.
"...Mr. Potter."
A voice suppressed with explosive rage rose from behind Harry.
!!
In an instant, Harry felt his blood turn to ice. He slowly turned his head and met Professor Snape's face, which was distorted with fury.
He didn't even know what he'd done wrong this time—maybe he was just breathing wrong—but suddenly, he felt a deep spiritual connection with the unconscious Slughorn.
Whew~
Ethan whistled, watching the scene with great interest.
In the end, Harry didn't end up lying in a row with Slughorn. Instead, under Snape's murderous gaze, he stiffly walked out of the classroom. There was a high probability he would become "teaching material" for the next Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
"Ah!"
Professor Slughorn suddenly jolted awake, screaming, "I'll make the potion! I'll make the potion—!!"
His cries echoed through the empty corridor. Panting heavily and still shaken, Slughorn looked around. Finding no sign of Ethan, he let out a long sigh of relief.
He gave a silly, self-deprecating laugh. "Haha... I was supposed to be going to the Christmas banquet. How could I dream that Ethan was taking me down to hell?"
"Sigh, he wants me to develop the potion, but I haven't the slightest clue how to start... I really wish I had a brain as brilliant as the Four Founders."
[You can.]
An elegant, mellow voice, like aged red wine, sounded from the side.
In that heartbeat, Slughorn felt his blood freeze again. Stiffly, inch by inch, he turned his head. On the wall hung a half-length portrait of a man without a face. He wore a suit and a top hat, looking like a dignified gentleman, but where his facial features should have been, there were only swirling vortices. The flesh overlapped and twisted as if someone had grabbed his face and wrenched it several times.
It was utterly grotesque. Then, the vortex where the mouth should be wriggled, emitting a pleasant sound:
[But it doesn't matter. As a Headmaster, it is only right to stimulate the potential of my professors.]
[Come, my dear Professor Slughorn...]
The faceless man in the portrait leaned forward, reaching his arm out of the frame toward the stunned Slughorn! The moment they touched, Slughorn felt a deluge of knowledge and mysteries flooding into his mind like a torrential wave!
Amidst this chaotic torrent of information, a single spark of inspiration erupted!
"I—I know how to do it!" Slughorn leapt up, shouting hoarsely.
Due to his violent movement, a silver, glittering object fell from his head. Before it could hit the floor, it was caught by a swirl of magic.
It was a diadem, inlaid with a magnificent blue sapphire. Under the torchlight, it reflected beautiful, fractured light.
"Congratulations."
A cool, calm voice brought Slughorn back to his senses. He looked up to see the smiling, black-haired youth—the youngest Headmaster of Hogwarts—standing before him. Beside him was a ghost with a somewhat condemning expression.
He remembered her—the ghost of Ravenclaw, the Grey Lady.
"You have successfully experienced the wisdom of one of the Four Founders, Lady Ravenclaw."
"The number of people who have had this honor is few and far between."
—By using the purified Ravenclaw's Diadem, he had received the revelation for the Maledictus potion!
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