"Felix Felicis?" Professor Snape's eyebrows raised even higher. The term triggered some very unpleasant memories—as if returning to those endless days and nights of forced labor for Ethan, soaking in swirling potion smoke and bitter regret.
Dozens of servings of Felix Felicis! It made me never want to touch potions again for the rest of my life.
"Professor Snape?" Ethan's clear voice called Snape back from his dark reverie. Looking at Ethan's angelic, purely innocent smile, Snape couldn't help grinding his molars in frustration.
Suddenly, inspiration struck Snape like lightning. Throughout the entire magical world, wizards who could successfully brew Felix Felicis could be counted on one hand. Even seventh-year students found it nearly impossible to master. Much less Ethan, barely starting his third year. If Ethan fails... wouldn't I be perfectly justified in mocking him mercilessly?
Thinking this delicious thought, Snape's lips curved into a slow, anticipatory grin. "Of course, since you're so eager to learn, as a professor I naturally won't decline your request..."
[Through practice and study, you obtained a "Well-Read" entry]
[Congratulations! Your Knowledge skill has improved!]
[Knowledgeable Lv2 → Erudite Lv3]
[Description: "My brain is so full of knowledge it's about to crack my skull."]
[Effect: Your comprehension of any discipline will reach the highest level; no knowledge can block your advancing footsteps]
[When you cast spells, brew potions, or conduct any research]
[You will receive invisible guidance]
One month later.
Ethan gently sprinkled exactly 120 days' worth of powdered bicorn horn into the bubbling cauldron, stirring clockwise slowly while reciting complex incantations with perfect pronunciation.
Upon reaching a certain critical stage, Ethan sensed the shift intuitively. With a casual wave, he extinguished the flames beneath the cauldron. Under the spell's lingering effect, he watched the liquid rapidly turn gray and congeal, finally becoming a cement-like substance.
Failed? Quite the opposite. Ethan carefully tapped the hardened "cement" with his wand. Crack! The shell split open like an egg, revealing thumb-sized golden liquid within—shimmering with inner radiance like a precious gem refined from fallen meteorites.
Ethan inhaled deeply, smelling faint honey sweetness mixed with fresh grass, damp moss, and rich earth—the natural fragrance he always encountered when exploring with Luna during their nighttime adventures. Thinking of her, the sun rune branded in his palm stung again. Time to find Luna for treatment.
Ethan's lips curved into a satisfied smile. Waving his wand with practiced grace, he drew the golden liquid into a teardrop-shaped glass vial and corked it securely. One vial of Felix Felicis—complete.
Like flowing molten gold, the liquid sparkled with mist-like starlight swirling in the glass container. Ethan stared at it, mesmerized by its beauty, then turned toward the thoroughly dazed Professor Snape, smiling with innocent curiosity. "Is it difficult?"
I learned it in one month.
Snape stared in stunned silence: "..." Mastering in just one month what many wizards never understand in their entire lives. If I hadn't watched Ethan learn from scratch step by painstaking step, I'd genuinely think he was deliberately mocking me! Are you actually Merlin reincarnated?!
For the first time in his life, Snape found himself doubting his own considerable abilities. If Ethan had been born in my era, Voldemort probably wouldn't have mattered at all... Lily was also this brilliantly talented back then.
Snape's emotions surged turbulently. He hastily collected himself to avoid being detected by this perceptive brat. With a deliberately stiff face, he said dryly, "Fifty points to Ravenclaw for your outstanding talent. I have nothing left to teach you." He paused, then added with grudging honesty, "If you took your N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests) right now, I'd give you top marks without hesitation."
"Hmm~ My ambitions don't lie there," Ethan said, pocketing the precious Felix Felicis, his eyes blazing with fierce determination. My goal is the entire magical world itself!
Snape thought wearily: "..." Sometimes I really wish Ethan's ambitions were just achieving excellent grades and a quiet career...
The day after obtaining Felix Felicis, coincidentally, Hogwarts held its first Quidditch match of the season: Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
Outside the castle, fierce winds raged with primal fury. Dark storm clouds pressed down oppressively, bean-sized raindrops pelting down so hard it was difficult to breathe. Students struggled forward through the gale, their umbrellas occasionally blown away and spiraling skyward like broken birds.
"If my hand gets injured in this weather, I can apply to postpone the match," Malfoy said gloomily, clutching his expensive broomstick protectively, his usually over-gelled hair now resembling a windswept bird's nest.
After the two team captains shook hands with enough murderous force to strangle each other, accompanied by Madam Hooch's whistle that seemed to come from impossibly far away through the storm, the match began.
In the stands, Ethan and Luna sat comfortably within a rain-shielding barrier, squinting to search for the players' figures in the howling storm. Finally giving up on following the action. Whatever, just watch for entertainment.
Ethan turned sideways to look at Luna's fluffy hair crown, asking softly with concern, "What's wrong?"
"Mm..." Luna shook her head gently, taking his hand and rubbing his palm. Her cool, slender fingers stroked the sun brand and the surrounding charred ring of damaged flesh.
"That looks so painful," Luna finally spoke softly after a long silence.
Ethan answered honestly, "Actually, it's not bad at all. Knowing it represents fierce power makes it feel amazing."
Luna looked up, glancing at Ethan with those dreamy eyes, then raised her hand and flicked his forehead lightly.
"Haha, don't worry about me." Ethan grinned brilliantly, his smile genuine and reassuring. Just need to find a suitable container for the rune.
Ethan glanced sideways—meeting Michael Corner's distorted expression pressed desperately against their magical barrier. Mm, really ugly face.
Ethan smiled slightly at him, successfully making Michael's expression grow even more ferocious, his features completely misaligned with jealous rage.
Ever since everyone learned that Ethan had truly taken students through actual history and personally participated in the goblin rebellion's final battle, the entire school exploded with excitement and envy! That was an incredible opportunity to travel through history as legendary heroes! Countless students beat their chests in bitter regret.
Even official history books now record "the mysterious troops with extraordinary abilities who destroyed the goblin fortress" with glorious, heroic achievements.
We're in the same Ravenclaw house, so why is there such a huge gap between us?! Father, please help me succeed! Michael Corner thought desperately.
Just then, the stands suddenly erupted with terrified screams! Michael whirled around—seeing countless pitch-black shadows floating ominously above the Quidditch field. Over a hundred Dementors. Instantly, Michael shivered as primal fear and bone-deep cold crawled up his spine. He heard someone shout in panic:
"Harry! They're chasing Harry!"
Harry? Michael whipped around toward Ethan, shouting in genuine terror, "Ethan! Those Dementors—you must save Harry—"
Then Michael froze completely. He saw Ethan sitting without the slightest trace of panic, remaining perfectly calm, slowly speaking with absolute confidence:
"I believe in my Morning Star Club member, Harry Potter—who experienced and survived the goblin rebellion's final battle—won't be defeated by mere Dementors."
As he spoke, Ethan's cobalt-blue eyes watched the field intently, his gaze surging with unshakeable confidence and certainty—stunning Michael into speechless silence.
Turning back to watch the field, Michael thought in awe: What exactly did Ethan do to transform our Chosen One?!