The Quidditch World Cup had drawn to a close.
The vibrant illusions still shimmered in the night sky, standing out vividly against the darkness and quickly becoming a popular photo spot for wizards and Muggles alike.
Muggle experts classified it as a "once-in-a-millennium nebula."
It was hailed as a "symbol of good luck."
To manage the endless influx of tourists, the Muggle campsite manager stayed swamped for weeks.
He raked in several times his usual earnings, enough to buy warm winter coats for his wife and daughter.
The most baffling part for him was that some odd visitors would press thumb-sized gold coins directly into his hand!
"Hey, sir, I can't accept this! Are you from some secret society?"
"—Obliviate."
"—...Hey, sir! I can't accept this!"
Amid the swirl of conversations,
Time slipped away swiftly.
Before long, September rolled around.
It was the day students returned to Hogwarts.
Rain poured relentlessly.
Bean-sized droplets pelted the carriage windows, while fierce winds rocked the vehicle side to side.
It left one fearing the whole thing might splinter apart at any moment.
The "self-driving" carriage rumbled through the gates flanked by sculptures of winged boars.
Ethan gazed out through the fogged, rain-streaked glass.
A brilliant bolt of lightning cracked the sky, ripping through the darkness in an instant.
It bathed the stone castle in harsh light, like a slumbering giant roused from its dreams.
Ethan's thoughts drifted to the intricate castle blueprints he'd acquired from the Goblin Rebellions.
In his mind, he sketched out ways to employ goblin craftsmanship to modernize this ancient school.
Ethan had a strong hunch.
Though his presence had altered countless events,
The ultimate showdown would likely unfold right here at Hogwarts.
Under the watchful eyes of the four founders,
It would all conclude, ushering in a new age.
"I'm really looking forward to it..." Ethan ran his tongue over his canine tooth, a spark of ambition flickering in his cobalt-blue eyes, steady as a tranquil sea.
Complete the Goblet of Fire, spreading his renown far beyond Britain's borders.
Thereby amplifying the brilliance of the "Light."
Restore the fractured Mirror of Erised and craft a Tier 3 Epic Purple masterpiece.
Harness Lord Voldemort to fulfill the Soul Cauldron Ritual, resolving his shortage of magical power.
And then there's remodeling the castle, plus Lord Voldemort's lingering Horcruxes... "Hmph, quite the to-do list."
Even so, Ethan was buzzing with energy.
On a side note,
He'd enlisted the Ministry of Magic to hunt down rare materials with regenerative properties.
No reason not to milk that for all it was worth!
As these plans churned in his head,
The carriage lurched with a metallic clang.
It swayed twice before grinding to a halt.
Hogwarts had arrived.
While other students dashed through the downpour, Ethan unfurled his black umbrella with calm precision.
This incomplete prototype had been reclaimed from Ron.
Flanked by Luna, he ascended the towering stone steps to the castle at a leisurely pace.
He even bestowed a warming charm on every bold first-year who ventured near him.
"Th-thank you, Mr. Vincent!"
A newcomer stuttered.
For some reason, he was drenched head to toe, as if he'd plunged into a lake.
"My name's Dennis, and I'm a first-year this term! I sprinted the whole way just to catch a glimpse of you! Please, could I get your autograph?"
The kid fished a crumpled newspaper clipping from his robes with frantic excitement.
He stared up at Ethan with wide-eyed awe and hope.
Ethan glanced down.
It was a shot of him addressing the masses at the Quidditch World Cup.
"Hehe, of course."
Ethan replied softly.
His quill danced across the page, scrawling his signature.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mr. Vincent!!!"
The boy snatched it back, beaming with joy.
He peered at the inscription.
His face went slack.
He froze in place, stunned.
As if hit by the Imperius Curse.
Golden light began to radiate from his eyes, bright and unnatural.
"Another future recruit for the Enlightenment Society."
Ethan nodded, thoroughly pleased.
That is, until Professor McGonagall let out a piercing screech and rushed over to intervene.
"What on earth did you do? And why are you soaked through?"
The boy declared proudly, "I tumbled into the Black Lake!"
At that,
Ethan arched a brow and mused aloud:
"Plunged into the lake, then hauled out by the Giant Squid..."
"To commune with nature so intimately at his age—he's got the makings of a fine Druid someday."
Michael, walking beside him, was rendered speechless.
He snorted and grumbled with lofty pride:
"Gryffindor."
If not for that,
Hogwarts still clung to its house rivalries.
Slytherin looked down on Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
Gryffindor sneered at Slytherin.
As for Ravenclaw, they scorned every other house of dimwits with equal measure.
They navigated the corridor where Peeves was wreaking havoc.
At Ethan's polite offer of "Care to play with my silver sledgehammer?"
Peeves let out a bloodcurdling yelp, flinging water balloons everywhere like a panicked goddess scattering flowers, before popping out of sight.
This actually lifted Professor McGonagall's spirits a touch.
It showed that, every now and then,
A show of force trumped any appeal to fairness.
The start-of-term banquet kicked off without delay.
The Sorting Hat belted out a fresh tune, rambling and nonsensical as ever.
And the lake-dunked kid was indeed sorted into Gryffindor.
Headmaster Dumbledore: "Before we tuck into the feast, I've two announcements for the lot of you."
"First off, this year we'll be joined by a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor... Hmm, though he appears to be running late."
Ethan sat up a fraction straighter, his focus sharpening.
At the Quidditch World Cup, Barty had still slipped the noose.
Now masquerading as Mad-Eye Moody, he was set to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for the year.
And his scheme involved offing both Ethan and Harry.
Perfect.
The Soul Cauldron Ritual demanded Lord Voldemort and his lackeys at the climax.
Betraying them in the final instant would spike the soul fusion success rate.
With the foe exposed and himself concealed,
It promised to spice up his Hogwarts days... Ethan smirked.
He had a feeling this year would be a riot.
"The second matter is regrettable: there'll be no Quidditch this year."
A wave of groans erupted,
But the headmaster pressed on serenely, "An extraordinary event kicks off in October and will span the whole school year. Trust me, it's every bit as thrilling as Quidditch, and you'll all reap immense rewards from it..." Here,
Headmaster Dumbledore hesitated.
His eyes flicked swiftly to Ethan.
He stalled.
Then carried on, "—immense enjoyment."
The students exchanged baffled glances.
Ethan, though, thrust out his chest with smug satisfaction.
The Goblet of Fire was nearly ready under his guidance.
Thanks to the fresh exotic ingredient [Cursed Deathstone], he'd cranked up the first task's peril!
He was confident the champions would love it.
Right then,
The Great Hall doors exploded open with a thunderous BANG!
"CRACK!"
A jagged lightning fork lit up the intruder!
"Sorry, Dumbledore, I'm late. Bloody storm."
In the stunned hush,
"Thump, thump, thump" echoed the footsteps.
They rang down the aisle between the house tables, booming through the cavernous hall.
Every student gawked.
Their stares locked on the grotesque face, stitched from mismatched slabs of skin, and the whirring electric-blue prosthetic eye.
"Bloody hell..."
Ron whispered, eyes bulging in terror.
"Did Dumbledore just hire a werewolf to teach us?!"
"He looks absolutely horrifying!"
As Ron put it,
When Headmaster Dumbledore presented him as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Alastor Moody,
Aside from Dumbledore and Hagrid,
Not one soul clapped.
They were all petrified.
Ethan lounged in his seat, eyeing the spinning fake eye with a delighted grin.
Mad-Eye's real magical eye was already his.
What Barty wore was Ethan's Door in the Eyes!
Now, he could track Barty's every move.
Genius move, if I do say so myself~
Suddenly,
Ethan caught the "magical eye" swiveling toward him.
In a flash,
A torrent of raw malice and loathing crashed over him!
It gave Ethan a crystal-clear taste of what Professor Snape endured glaring at Harry.
Moments later,
The stare slid away.
"Hmm, targeting his mark already?"
No need to hide it—stare all you want!
The next instant,
A portal ripped open.
Gasps rippled through the hall as Ethan's form materialized on the staff dais!
He touched down right before "Moody."
!!!
"Moody's" eyes shrank to pinpricks!
He yanked out his wand on instinct, true to an ex-Auror's paranoia.
Ethan spoke deliberately, savoring each word:
"I'm no prodigy or anything."
"I've offed one past Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and driven another stark raving mad... But hey, neither was a saint."
"What goes around comes around—good for good, bad for bad."
Ethan's eyes crinkled into crescents.
His cobalt-blue gaze mirrored "Moody's" strained, twitching features.
With a casual wrist snap,
Two cards flashed into his fingers.
One depicted a snarling werewolf, the other a wide-eyed villager.
He enunciated slowly:
"So... tell me, Professor. Are you the good guy... or the bad guy?"
"Moody"
Barty felt a bead of icy sweat trickle down his brow.
It hit him like a Bludger.
The toughest hurdle in his undercover op wasn't the Polyjuice glamour.
It was this unhinged, terrifying jokester standing before him!
Ethan Vincent!!!
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