A radiant golden light enveloped Ethan Vincent, casting a glow that pierced the dim night. He stood before the crowd like a celestial beacon, his handsome features illuminated with an almost divine brilliance. His cobalt-blue eyes shimmered, reflecting the dazzling light, while every strand of his dark hair danced subtly, aglow with a flowing radiance. To those watching, he seemed like a god descended to earth, righteous and awe-inspiring.
Even Ron Weasley, usually quick with a quip, stood transfixed, his jaw slightly agape. Like the other boys, he couldn't help but imagine himself in Ethan's place—bathed in that dazzling light, revered by all. So cool, he thought, a grin tugging at his lips.
Hermione Granger, her cheeks flushed a soft pink, cupped her face and stared at Ethan, her eyes sparkling with unspoken admiration. Across from her, Luna Lovegood sat quietly, her golden hair fanning out like a halo. She swung her feet gently, resembling a delicate porcelain doll in a shop window. A soft smile curved her lips as she thought, Ethan, my very best friend, is truly extraordinary. I always knew he'd protect us all.
"Alright, I need to work harder too," Luna murmured under her breath. She opened her pale, delicate hand, and a faint blue light flickered to life. The magic coalesced into a translucent rose, beautiful and enigmatic—pure Ancient Magic, flowing through her as naturally as a fish glides through water. Whenever Luna encountered anything tied to Ancient Magic, it seemed to weave itself into her very being.
The Hogwarts Express chugged steadily onward. Ethan leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, savoring a moment of rest. Luna sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder, engrossed in a book. Professor Remus Lupin had left to speak with the conductor, while Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione—collectively known as the Golden Trio—sat across from them. Hermione absently stroked her ginger cat, Crookshanks, whose squashed face betrayed no hint of alarm. Her gaze flicked hopefully toward Ethan, as if willing him to open his eyes and speak to her. Each time, though, the sight of Ethan and Luna's quiet companionship made her pout slightly. Crookshanks, meanwhile, kept a predatory eye on Ron's pocket, where Scabbers the rat hid, poised for action.
After the chaotic ordeal of riding to Hogwarts on the Minister for Magic's head, exhaustion hung over the compartment like a heavy fog. The atmosphere was calm, almost drowsy. Ethan, however, felt invigorated. The sudden 2% surge in his soul fusion—from 70% to 72%—had flooded his body with renewed energy, as if he'd shed an old skin. His magic thrummed in his veins, stronger than ever. I could probably summon the World Serpent and swallow Hogwarts whole—twice, he mused, a smirk tugging at his lips. What happens when I hit 100%? Will I transform into a humanoid Gundam? A boy who doesn't dream of being a Gundam isn't much of a boy. Or maybe an octopus. Flesh is weak—time to ditch humanity!
His own ridiculous thoughts made him chuckle. Opening his eyes, he missed the way Hermione's face lit up. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a glossy, pitch-black orb—the Dementor's Essence, a drop from the creature he'd defeated. He turned it over in his hand, examining it closely.
Name: Dementor's Essence
Description: A condensed core of powerful dark energy, capable of devouring everything and nullifying any magic. Formed after slaying a Dementor. Strangely, no one has ever reported obtaining one before.
Nullify magic? Ethan's breath caught. In the Wizarding World, stripping away magic was like plunging a human into a vacuum. It was catastrophic, unthinkable. A weapon like this… His eyes gleamed as he stared at the orb. Perfect for dealing with those tricky goblins. He grinned, already plotting. And there are plenty more Dementors out there.
Somewhere in Azkaban, the remaining Dementors shuddered, an inexplicable chill crawling up their spectral forms. Something… evil is watching us.
The train pulled into Hogsmeade Station under a starry sky. Ethan stepped off, his mood buoyant, only to nearly collide with Professor Minerva McGonagall. Her face was darker than a cauldron bottom, her lips pressed into a thin line. The expression was one Ethan usually associated with Professor Severus Snape.
"Oh no," Ethan muttered under his breath.
"Mr. Vincent!" Professor McGonagall's voice was sharp enough to cut glass. "Please come with me!"
The command sent a ripple of fear through the nearby first-years, who shrank back, heads bowed. Hogwarts is supposed to be like home, they thought, trembling. This is terrifying! [QAQ]
Ethan turned to Luna with a reassuring smile. "See you later."
She nodded dreamily and drifted off toward the carriages. Ethan, meanwhile, sauntered over to McGonagall, his face the picture of innocence. No one would've guessed he was the chaos-causing "monster slayer" who'd turned the train ride into a spectacle.
McGonagall's voice quivered with barely restrained fury. "How dare you, Mr. Vincent! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? The Ministry of Magic is in an uproar!"
Before Ethan could respond, a broad hand clapped onto his shoulder. He looked up to see Professor Lupin's tired but calm face. "Ethan endured quite a fright himself," Lupin said gently. "Let's not forget—the Dementors targeted Ethan and Harry first. The children are exhausted. We can discuss this back at the castle."
McGonagall's eyebrows shot up, but after a moment, she gave a curt nod. Her gaze then snapped to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were attempting to slink away. "Mr. Potter!" she barked. "You come here too."
The group followed McGonagall through the professor's passage, arriving swiftly at Hogwarts Castle. As they pushed open the great oak doors, warm orange light spilled over them, wrapping Ethan in a nostalgic glow. Ah, the good old days of blowing up the school last term, he thought wistfully. Harry, too, seemed to relax, though only slightly.
That fleeting calm shattered the moment they stepped into the Headmaster's office. Professor Severus Snape stood there, his hooked nose turning slowly, like a vulture sizing up its prey. His greasy black hair gleamed under the candlelight, and his cold eyes locked onto Harry. "Well, well," he drawled, voice dripping with venom. "Look who's here—the famous Savior…"
Then his gaze shifted to Ethan, narrowing into a glare. "And our talented and audacious genius, who clearly believes Hogwarts' education is beneath his… great strides. Ethan Vincent!" The last words were hissed through gritted teeth.
Harry's eyes widened. I'm not Snape's main target? Ethan, what in Merlin's name did you do to him?
Besides Snape, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge were present. Fudge pointed an accusatory finger at Ethan. "All the Dementors sent by the Ministry are gone!" he bellowed. "What did you do, boy? You attacked public officials!"
Dumbledore's voice cut through, low and laced with warning. "Mind your tone, Fudge."
The Minister's bravado faltered. "The Ministry has suffered heavy losses!" he sputtered. "I demand an explanation!"
Fudge's anger masked a deeper fear. He'd sent the Dementors to intimidate, certain they'd cow the students. But now they were gone—vanished without a trace. And all signs pointed to Ethan. What did he do? Fudge wondered, a chill creeping up his spine. Could he have… killed them? Even Voldemort hadn't been known to destroy Dementors. This boy must be contained.
Dumbledore turned to Ethan, his tone gentle but probing. "Ethan, can you tell us what happened?"
Snape sneered. "What's there to say? Our gifted Mr. Vincent clearly believes even the Ministry's valuable 'employees' are disposable, thanks to his… unique painting magic."
Under the weight of their stares—Snape's venomous, Fudge's fearful, Dumbledore's searching—Ethan felt the room closing in. They wanted answers, secrets, a way to control the power that could fell Dementors. I could slap Fudge and watch him lose it again, Ethan thought, smirking inwardly. Tempting. But instead, he opted for righteousness. "I acted in self-defense," he said calmly. "The Dementors were surrounding Harry, draining him. I saw a soul halo forming around him."
A collective gasp filled the room. McGonagall's voice trembled with disbelief. "The Dementor's Kiss? They tried to kill Harry Potter?"
Fudge's face paled. "Impossible!" he squawked. "The Dementors were after Sirius Black, not students!"
But doubt gnawed at him. No wizard could fully control Dementors—Fudge knew that better than most. Admitting it, though, would mean confessing the Ministry's negligence. He doubled down. "They'd never attack a student!"
Ethan turned to Harry. "What did you see or hear? Tell them."
Snape's eyes widened, a flicker of dread crossing his face. He knew what was coming, but he was powerless to stop it.
Harry hesitated, pain etching his features. "I saw a green light," he said slowly. The room fell deathly silent. Even Dumbledore's eyebrows twitched upward. Harry pressed on, his voice heavy with grief. "I heard a woman's scream—shrill, desperate. She was pleading, but her attacker ignored her. Then there was a green light… and a wild laugh." He lifted his emerald-green eyes, locking them onto Snape's frozen form. "I believe that was my mother."