Hogsmeade Village was a lively pure-wizarding town. Both sides of the snow-covered cobblestone roads were crammed with various colorful shops, their countless chimneys continuously puffing white smoke into the winter air.
Most students ran excitedly toward Honeydukes candy shop, their voices carrying through the cold. Ethan heard them shouting enthusiastically, "I want to buy a dozen Blowing Super Bubble Gum!" "Heard they got new varieties of Ice Mice!"
This made Ethan ponder thoughtfully: "If I manufactured gingerbread men with real creature souls fused inside, or candy that grows flowers inside your skull after eating, would they sell like crazy..."
Ethan murmured with complete seriousness, genuinely believing he possessed a brilliant business mind and a bright commercial future ahead.
Ron stared at him nervously. "Dude, the Ministry would come knocking immediately. Don't sell Dark magic items in a pure wizarding village..."
Suddenly, Ron's words stopped mid-sentence. His mouth fell open, eyes staring blankly ahead at the intersection, nearly drooling, as if someone had yanked his soul right out of his body.
Ethan followed his glazed gaze, seeing a graceful, strikingly beautiful blonde woman standing at the intersection. Almost everyone passing by enthusiastically chatted with her for a few pleasant moments.
Ah, that's the Three Broomsticks owner, Madam Rosmerta. One of Ron's mad infatuations.
Ethan understood immediately, looking at the dazed Ron with genuine pity. The problem is obvious: he's got terminal "Simp Syndrome."
Just then, Ethan's gaze inadvertently met Madam Rosmerta's across the crowded street. Her expression immediately brightened as she lifted her skirts and walked quickly toward them, her graceful, swaying gait.
Ethan heard Ron making bizarre frog-like croaking sounds beside him.
"Hi! Finally seeing you again, Ethan!" Hearing this warm, intimate address, Hermione's eyebrows shot up high as she crossed her arms, looking like a strict disciplinary director about to interrogate students.
Madam Rosmerta didn't notice the dangerous atmosphere, grabbing Ethan's hand and gazing at him with sparkling, affectionate eyes.
Ron stood frozen, completely speechless. His brain completely short-circuited, staring at them, dumbstruck.
"How have you been lately, dear?" Rosmerta asked with genuine warmth.
Ethan replied casually, "Pretty good. Blew up a goblin fortress, killed a Chimaera-dragon hybrid, gained unprecedentedly powerful ancient magic."
Rosmerta blinked: "..." Wow. That's quite exciting. Sounds like an adventure novel plot?
She diplomatically skipped this topic, lifting her red lips to say something when Ethan suddenly hissed in pain, his palm trembling slightly as he instinctively touched the sun brand.
"Oh, Merlin! Are you injured?" Rosmerta exclaimed with motherly concern, lifting her slightly work-roughened fingers to gently examine Ethan's burned palm.
Ron's jealous stare from the side burned more intensely than the sun brand itself.
Ethan discreetly withdrew his hand, smiling reassuringly. "Haha, no problem. Though it hurts, it makes me feel powerful."
After all, it lets me paint unique artworks infused with ancient magic.
Rosmerta's eyes widened with newfound respect. Hurts but feels great? She immediately looked at him with different eyes, seriously re-examining the innocent-looking Ethan.
Didn't expect you, with those innocent features and good student appearance, to have such wild interests!
Rosmerta's posture softened considerably, and she leaned close to Ethan's ear despite Hermione's eyes shooting metaphorical flames. She whispered seductively, "My pub is quite large. Want to come sit somewhere private?"
Ethan's gaze sharpened with suspicion. What's this about? Is someone challenging me to a duel? He slowly nodded with profound seriousness. "Lead the way."
Rosmerta smiled somewhat awkwardly. "Haha, follow me then~"
As Rosmerta was about to drape her arm possessively over Ethan's shoulder, a heavy, pointed cough sounded from the side. Then the handsome young boy was yanked away protectively.
Ethan turned, looking at Hermione gripping his robes with confusion. "You want to duel me, too?"
"Are you an idiot?!" Hermione hissed in exasperation.
Hermione immediately went into full protective mode, cautiously glaring at this strange "old" lady while pulling Ethan firmly behind herself, giving Rosmerta a distinct "mother hen protecting her chick" vibe.
Ah-ya-ya, such cute friendship and youth~ Rosmerta laughed warmly, diplomatically inviting Hermione to visit her Three Broomsticks establishment as well.
Ron remained frozen, utterly speechless. When he finally snapped to attention, Ethan and the others were already far ahead. "Wait, wait for me! Ethan, hey! Scabbers, stop squirming!" Ron hastily grabbed his pocket, where his rat, Scabbers, suddenly began squirming violently, chasing after them at desperate speed.
With Madam Rosmerta, no wait, with Butterbeer ahead, who cares about Honeydukes candy!
Three Broomsticks Inn.
Madam Rosmerta graciously treated all three students to large, frothy mugs of Butterbeer. Only then did she explain her true purpose for approaching them.
"Ethan, could you renovate my Three Broomsticks like you did for the Leaky Cauldron?" She sighed heavily, leaning forward on the table, her substantial weight pressing on her crossed arms.
"Since you renovated the Leaky Cauldron, their business has been phenomenally successful! Yes, everyone wants to see enchanted grapes falling from paintings, sculptures answering profound life questions, and experiencing paradise's mystical golden light!" She slammed the table with emphasis:
"They even established some obsessive 'Secret Society'! Worshipping those artworks all day long! Stealing all my loyal customers!"
Hermione's eyes widened: ? Is your society even legitimate? Sounds like you're halfway to Azkaban!
Hearing this unexpected praise, Ethan's eyes lit up with satisfaction, smugly curving his lips. Seems my summer renovations of the Leaky Cauldron achieved excellent results beyond expectation.
"Now everyone in the wizarding community knows your paintings transformed the Leaky Cauldron into something extraordinary..." Rosmerta continued hopefully. "Could you do one for me, too?"
Her fingers moved restlessly toward Ethan again, but were firmly stopped by Hermione, who heavily slammed down her Butterbeer mug.
"Of course I can help." Ethan conjured an elegant top hat with a flourish, tipping the brim while winking charmingly. "Rather, I'm delighted to assist, madam."
"Oh... you're so wonderful, dear..." Rosmerta blushed deeply, stammering with obvious infatuation. She raised her hand, pretending to fan herself dramatically. Such a pity, if only I were twenty years younger... Time truly spares no one.
Rosmerta asked tentatively, "The price...?"
"No charge necessary," Ethan said generously.
This response completely won Rosmerta over, her eyes filling with stars as she gazed at Ethan, making Hermione's molars ache from grinding, her wand half-drawn before she reluctantly replaced it.
As for Ron, he looked desperately left and right for attention, suddenly pulling out his rat Scabbers from his pocket and holding it before everyone. He whispered hopefully, "Want to see my rat? He's very fat and interesting..."
Awkward silence followed. Ron looked ready to cry from embarrassment.
Fortunately, the door's brass bell chimed cheerfully, breaking the uncomfortable atmosphere.
Rosmerta turned with professional warmth. "Minerva!" Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Hagrid, and Minister Fudge entered together, brushing fresh snow from their winter cloaks.
Seeing Ethan sitting casually at the bar, Fudge's face went deathly white, then purple-blue, freezing completely in place. Ethan smiled with angelic benevolence at him, somehow making Fudge shake even harder with inexplicable dread.
Professor Flitwick squeaked enthusiastically, "Mr. Vincent! Madam Rosmerta, I must properly introduce you. This exceptional student is Ravenclaw's pride!"
Ethan smiled with sincere modesty. "Thank you, Professor. You taught me well."
Rosmerta led the distinguished group inside to a private corner, complaining loudly to Fudge about how the Dementors were absolutely ruining her business. Seeing Fudge's soul-lost, vacant expression, she rolled her eyes dramatically in frustration.
Just then, the doorbell rang again with its familiar chime. Ethan and Hermione casually glanced over as chattering students entered the warm pub, including Harry Potter, and, beside him, a large "spotted dog" with familiar markings.
Ethan's eyes widened slightly: "...Whoa."
Hermione's jaw dropped: ?!!
Harry's confident smile froze completely upon seeing Professor McGonagall's back facing him, pure terror flooding his expression! Oh no no no! I took the Marauder's Map from the Weasley twins and immediately came through the secret passage, without my Invisibility Cloak!
As McGonagall began turning around slowly, Harry felt his heart stop completely. Suddenly, a figure flashed forward with lightning speed, strategically blocking Harry from view.
"Everyone!" Ethan suddenly stood dramatically, spreading his arms wide with a broad, theatrical smile, drawing all attention magnetically to himself.
Ethan! Realizing his friend was deliberately covering for him, Harry was moved nearly to tears, quickly crouching low and sidling along the wall. The "spotted dog" was even cleverer and had already vanished from sight.
"Mr. Vincent?" Professor McGonagall blinked in confusion, suddenly feeling very ominous about this development.
Ethan smiled brilliantly. "At Madam Rosmerta's gracious invitation, I have a special magical performance to present for everyone!"
Rosmerta was stunned for a moment, then felt deeply moved! He's already helping build anticipation and hype the atmosphere?! Ethan is such a kind, helpful, excellent student!
Students familiar with Ethan's reputation immediately fell silent with anticipation. But other patrons outside Hogwarts frowned suspiciously at the interruption. A drunk wizard even shouted roughly from the back, "Don't disturb my drinking! Brat, get lost!"
Ethan didn't respond to the insult, just surveying the entire pub slowly with his cobalt-blue eyes, grinning with mysterious intent. Snap! He snapped his fingers with crisp finality.
A small bird sparkling with golden radiance materialized and flew out gracefully, its wings flapping with ethereal beauty. When it chirped melodiously, everyone in the pub froze, feeling their hearts suddenly stab painfully, as if pierced by something impossibly sharp.
"The performance content..." Ethan's intense gaze fixed directly on the struggling, squealing gray rat in Ron's trembling hands, slowly speaking with dramatic weight:
"'The Informer's Impalement Hell.'"