Before leaving the ruins, Ethan collected the two Aurors' wands from the basement floor. Together with Herbert's wand from the cabin, this made the third wand he had confiscated today.
Not bad.
He also disposed of the Aurors' bodies properly.
Just because Ethan wanted certain unpleasant people dead did not mean he intended to declare war on the Ministry of Magic directly.
People who feared him would never personally confront danger once they realised how dangerous he truly was. Instead, they would hide safely behind desks while forcing innocent Ministry employees to die for them.
That was how senior officials operated.
And once enough ordinary families were destroyed in the conflict, public opinion would naturally paint Ethan—the "Dark Magic experiment"—as some horrifying monster threatening wizarding Britain.
That would seriously interfere with his peaceful life.
And Ethan genuinely liked his current life.
Going to Hogwarts.
Bullying Voldemort occasionally.
Writing letters home to Rose and Edward.
Honestly, things were going pretty well.
Disgusting people deserved disgusting deaths.
Not glorious martyrdom.
As Ethan walked through the snow outside the ruins, he calmly reviewed the two methods he currently possessed for dealing with Cornelius Fudge and the Ministry officials still secretly trying to eliminate him.
The first method was assassination.
As long as his target possessed weaker soul strength than him, killing them would be absurdly easy. The only difficult requirement was getting within two metres of them.
But after learning Apparition someday, even that problem would disappear entirely.
Still—
Instant death felt too merciful.
"I feel like you're planning something evil," the Count said suspiciously while perched on Ethan's shoulder. "Please tell me you're not planning something evil. I'm suddenly frightened."
"I'll take you to a nightclub someday," Ethan replied casually. "Then I'll write to Mum and tell her you brought me there."
The Count became silent for two full seconds.
"In that case," he replied gravely, "please continue your evil schemes."
The second method was political power.
If Hermione Granger could eventually become Minister for Magic after the war against Voldemort, then Ethan could certainly do the same.
Once his soul strength reached forty percent, he could even secretly revive Voldemort properly and unleash him upon magical Britain again. Afterwards, Ethan could personally become the heroic saviour who defeated the terrifying Dark Lord.
Perhaps a Cornelius Fudge would need to be sacrificed during the process.
A necessary tragedy.
After all—
Power itself corrupted people beautifully.
"You once called me the Dark Lord," Ethan reminded the Count thoughtfully. "How do you feel now?"
The Count looked horrified.
The first Five-Year Plan for secretly subverting wizarding Britain had officially begun.
Naturally, the first step involved continuing to commit crimes.
Before leaving the underground chamber, Ethan allowed Ali to climb inside the expanded handbag.
Bringing a Nightmare unicorn back into Hogwarts openly would be slightly excessive.
Dumbledore had definitely read Secrets of the Darkest Art before. There was no chance he would allow one of Herpo the Foul's experimental species to wander freely through the corridors.
Afterward, Ethan checked the remaining rooms lining the underground hallway.
All of them were empty.
Mundungus Fletcher had probably looted everything remotely valuable years ago.
Interestingly, however, he had not stolen the bookshelves from the primary laboratory itself. Ethan suspected protective runes had hidden them from view at the time.
Once he finally emerged from the basement, the weather outside had become gloomy again.
Well—
Two people had just died nearby.
Snowfall felt appropriate.
Ethan did not even know the Aurors' names.
That hardly mattered.
He would probably read about their mysterious disappearance in the Daily Prophet later.
SUSPICIOUS DARK WIZARD ACTIVITY RESURFACES
MINISTRY AURORS MISSING
Something dramatic like that.
As Ethan approached the cabin again, however, he immediately noticed Herbert standing outside the door.
Apparently the old man had escaped the ropes somehow.
Most likely with help from the now deceased Aurors.
[Soul Strength: 22]
Not a threat.
Herbert simply stood silently in the doorway watching Ethan approach through the snow-cleared ruins.
He did not run.
Did not attack.
He looked as though he had been waiting.
"Your uncle seems to want a conversation," the Count warned quietly from above.
"No," Ethan replied calmly. "He wants his wand back. Apparently it's more important to him than survival."
To verify his theory, Ethan walked directly toward the cabin.
Above him, the Count floated nervously while gripping his wand.
Not because he feared for Ethan's safety.
Who worried about a Dementor hybrid immune to the Killing Curse?
No—
The owl worried about himself.
After all, accomplices usually died first in stories.
"You came," Herbert said hoarsely once Ethan reached the doorway.
"I came."
"You shouldn't have come."
Herbert stared at him with painfully complicated eyes.
"I'm already here," Ethan replied flatly. "And before you continue acting like a tragic character from some dramatic wizarding novel, understand this clearly: I'm still not returning your wand."
Herbert ignored the sarcasm completely.
"Those two Aurors," he asked quietly. "Are they dead?"
"Very."
Ethan answered calmly.
Without a wand, Herbert posed no real danger. Ethan could kill him or erase his memory whenever necessary.
Still—
As the last surviving participant connected to the manor, Herbert undoubtedly knew more than Ali did.
The black unicorn had spent most of her life trapped inside a cage.
Herbert visibly relaxed after hearing about the Aurors' deaths.
"Come inside," he said softly. "Sit down. Let me look at you properly."
The strange certainty in his voice immediately made Ethan uncomfortable.
Still, after scanning the cabin carefully and confirming there were no hidden Aurors or surprise ambushes waiting inside, Ethan followed him.
Herbert positioned the single chair opposite the bed before sitting down slowly himself.
The atmosphere inside the cabin felt oddly heavy.
"What exactly is your relationship with me?" Ethan asked directly the moment he sat down.
Herbert stared at his face for a long time before answering.
"…It doesn't really matter anymore."
Then quietly:
"Rose adopted you, didn't she?"
Ethan's eyebrows rose immediately.
"How do you know that?"
"She's my sister."
"Oh."
Ethan tilted his head thoughtfully.
"So you're the Burke family member who threatened to throw her into an Inferius pit?"
He smiled pleasantly.
"Good timing, actually. I only learned the Cruciatus Curse last week."
"Whatever you heard is wrong," Herbert replied tiredly. "Rose was my favourite sister. I would never hurt her."
He sounded strangely calm.
Like an old man who had already accepted death years ago.
"Are they treating you well?" he asked quietly.
"Who? Rose and Edward? Or the professors at Hogwarts?"
"Your family now."
His voice trembled slightly on the final word.
Ethan frowned.
"…Very well, actually. Unreasonably well."
Then he leaned back impatiently.
"Can you speed this conversation up? I'm hungry. If we finish soon, I can still make it back to Hogwarts for dinner."
Herbert lowered his eyes silently.
"And stop using emotional manipulation tactics," Ethan continued. "Based on years of television experience, I'm guessing the next dramatic reveal is that you're secretly my biological father."
Herbert swallowed hard.
Ethan immediately understood.
"Oh."
He stared at the older man thoughtfully.
"So your real son died. Then the researchers here convinced you they could resurrect him through experiments. You gave them the body, and eventually they created me instead."
"They succeeded," Herbert whispered weakly. "After your rebirth… you became extraordinary. A genius…"
"Brilliant," Ethan interrupted. "Wonderful. Tragic. Emotional."
He rubbed his forehead irritably.
"Please get to the point before I start eating souls out of frustration."
Herbert finally looked directly at him again.
His tired eyes had become red.
"Can you stay here for one night?" he asked quietly.
"Just one."
His voice almost broke.
"Afterward… you can kill me if you want. Or devour my soul. But at least…"
....
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