Chapter 268: When the Quietest Student in Class Tells You to Stay Awake Tonight
Hearing someone call him, Mr Crouch's face flashed with impatience. He was about to turn and walk away when he spotted Ethan in the crowd.
After a summer apart, this boy who had stirred up storms in the wizarding world had grown even taller. Like a sapling absorbing ample nutrients, he seemed to be growing every moment.
Compared to his reputation, Ethan's appearance held no menace—he could even be described as "gentle and harmless." Black curls lay smoothly on his head, dark as ebony. His skin was a bit too pale, but that only enhanced the literary air young ladies seemed to favour.
Tall and slender, his maturing features were strikingly handsome. He stood out in any crowd—though that might have been because he was carrying a black umbrella on a sunny day and dressed entirely in black, as if attending a funeral.
His son had once been as high-spirited as Ethan. No, he could not think that way. That person was no longer his son. Comparing Ethan to an evil Death Eater was far too disrespectful.
Mr Crouch tilted his head slightly toward his house-elf, Winky. "Take him to the top box. Watch him constantly."
Hearing the word "top," Winky trembled but nodded loyally, leading the "empty space" beside her toward the stands.
Meanwhile, Percy was trembling with excitement at having "summoned" Mr Crouch. He had begun his internship at the Ministry this summer, and his superior was the esteemed Mr Crouch himself.
Percy shot his brothers a smug look. In his mind, a thick, pitiful barrier had already formed between himself and these "good-for-nothings."
"Mr Crouch! You—" Percy began.
Before he could finish, his idol walked right past him and stopped before Ethan.
"Mr Vincent, your reputation precedes you," Crouch said with a nod.
Percy's smile froze on his face. He stared in disbelief. I'm your subordinate! Why are you going to Ethan?
Oh, right. Ethan was an honoured guest of the entire Ministry. Never mind, then.
Hearing his brothers' mocking laughter, Percy's face gradually turned tomato red.
Ethan nodded, then suddenly turned and met Percy's longing gaze head-on. "I should be made Prefect this year. Looking forward to working with you, Head Boy."
Percy froze. It hit him like a bolt from the blue. Me? Working with Ethan?
Percy's entire being went hazy. He no longer cared what Mr Crouch did.
"Mr Vincent," Crouch continued, "regarding the Triwizard Tournament proposal you submitted, the relevant officials would like to discuss it with you in detail. Do you have time now?"
Ethan looked back, his lips curving. A deep, shadowed gleam flickered in his cobalt eyes. "Of course. Until everything begins, my time is quite free."
He turned and winked at Luna. "See you at the match."
Then, holding his black umbrella, he moved like a travelling shadow and departed with Mr Crouch.
"See you at the match," Luna repeated softly. Those mischievous cobalt eyes seemed to shoot a tiny arrow straight into her heart, making her chest feel tingly and warm.
Mm. Ethan was supposed to be like a brother to her…
The other Triwizard Tournament organisers' reason for seeking Ethan was simple.
"Mr Vincent, the content of the Tournament obstacles in your proposal… isn't it too difficult?!"
They wanted to inspire wizards' competitive spirit, not actually kill the participants. If they followed Ethan's proposal, they would not have enough mothers to go around.
Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, who had once organised the Secret Realm Expedition Challenge, looked ready to cry, shaking like a sieve.
He had been too naive. He thought banning Ethan from competing would be enough. Years later, Ethan had evolved into one of the event organisers.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "What? Do you have objections?"
If you have objections, take them to the Minister for Magic.
Bagman stiffened, stammering without words. "W-well, in any case, we understand. We'll discuss it further."
That said, barring the unexpected, even the Minister would not approve this absurd proposal. After all, peacetime had arrived. All this talk of "training to face hardship" was simply nonsense. Wasn't it?
The Quidditch World Cup began. The Quidditch World Cup ended.
Ireland won. But Bulgaria's Viktor Krum caught the Golden Snitch.
Ethan sat slouched in the Minister's box, head tilted lazily against Luna's shoulder. Listening to the tidal wave of cheers, he yawned.
"When will delightful screams and beautiful agony cover this land?" he murmured.
Ron stopped cheering and said in horror, "Hopefully never—wait! Merlin's beard! Did Krum just wave at you?!"
Ethan yawned again. "A defeated opponent, nothing more."
Ron's eyes nearly popped out. He swallowed hard and tugged on Ethan's sleeve, gazing at him with absolute worship. "Please… could you get me Krum's autograph? I'm begging you, Ethan. I'll do anything…"
Ethan glanced at Ron. This youngest Weasley brother was growing more and more simple-minded. Every bright red freckle radiated a "well-fed and content" attitude. He was also the only member of the trio who had not joined the glorious Morning Star Club.
Ethan glanced at Harry and Hermione. Though they had started at the same level as Ron, after the club's "baptism," they now carried a maturity and composure in their expressions.
Even with Voldemort suppressed by him as Mr Lamp, the more Ethan learned and the higher he advanced, the more he sensed the unknown presences above the firmament. As Mr Black had said: Fate.
In Fate—or the "original story"—werewolves should not have been cured. Sirius should have been wrongfully forced into exile. When Ethan changed all this, for one brief instant, he had felt a gaze fall from above.
If he had not already ascended to "Enlightened One," Ethan did not know if he would have ended up like Mr Black—neither human nor ghost.
Ethan would not fear. Just as art never compromises for worldly concerns, the Triwizard Tournament held an important turning point: Cedric's death, which opened the curtain on Voldemort's return.
No! I will show Voldemort whose "rise" this really is!
A small flame of determination burned deep in Ethan's eyes. To face the real challenges ahead, he could not abandon anyone. And how could kind, warm-hearted Ethan not help the brave Ron from the original story?
Ron simply needed an opportunity.
"I just remembered—you haven't joined my Morning Star Club yet, have you?" Ethan said.
Ron shrank back, lowering his head self-mockingly. "Come on. You know your club only accepts the coolest people. I'll just stick to my chicken legs."
But if Ethan listened to reason, he would not be Ethan.
He pressed the black umbrella he had been carrying all day into Ron's hands.
"Here. It's part of an unfinished work of mine. You'll need it."
Meeting Ron's confused gaze, Ethan smiled mysteriously. "A bit of advice: don't sleep too deeply tonight."