Ethan's words struck like thunderous drumbeats, hammering against the hearts of everyone present, leaving them trembling, their eyes wide with shock.
Even Aberforth, who had initially maintained an air of casual detachment, watching the scene like a play, gaped in astonishment, the rag in his hand slipping unnoticed to the floor.
"To... to declare the name of the Enlightenment Society to the world..."
Justin from Hufflepuff stammered, swallowing hard.
He felt a surge of adrenaline, yet it all seemed so surreal.
When he joined this club two years ago, he had never imagined anything like "going global."
In the blink of an eye, it felt as though he had broken free from the mundane cycle of eating and sleeping at school, shouldering what seemed to be a monumental responsibility!
"Oh my god, Ethan is just so handsome..."
Gryffindor's Lavender stared at Ethan with infatuation, practically seeing hearts floating in her eyes.
It was a pity that those chocolates she had sent—the ones laced with Amortentia—had never taken effect.
Mm such a hard-to-conquer man; I like him even more now
"The great war is imminent. We cannot allow the Ministry of Magic to continue running amok."
Even as he delivered such a bombshell statement, Ethan's expression remained serene.
He swept his gaze over the crowd with those piercing cobalt-blue eyes.
Gulp.
Someone swallowed audibly; the atmosphere grew heavy.
Ethan continued, "Stepping forward to confront a colossal darkness is an arduous and perilous task."
"It requires absolute trust and a determination that will never waver, no matter the circumstances."
He paused, looking around the room, and spoke slowly:
"Therefore, if anyone wishes to withdraw now, it does not matter."
"As long as you remain within the sturdy walls of Hogwarts, I promise—you will not be harmed!"
Upon hearing this, the pub fell into a dead silence.
You could hear a pin drop.
Even Aberforth, listening from the sidelines, couldn't help but hold his breath.
His heart, which had turned grey and cold since his sister's death, began to pound once more, stirred by this rallying cry!
It ignited the blood in his veins!
No one moved.
Even less did anyone stand up to leave.
The majority of those present, with few exceptions, were fifth-years or older.
Their expressions shifted from initial confusion to steely resolve.
Shedding their greenness and naivety, they revealed a maturity capable of standing alone against the world!
"...Very good," Ethan said slowly.
His gaze swept over the faces that had become so familiar over the past five years.
The perpetually grumbling Ron, the brilliant and sharp-witted Hermione, the boisterous Weasley twins, the delicate yet resilient Cho Chang...
And, of course, Harry Potter—born into tragedy, yet still upholding kindness and bravery.
The protagonist of the original story, the unfortunate Child of Prophecy.
When his eyes met Harry's emerald gaze, Ethan saw an indelible light of determination.
That was a light that only love could irrigate.
—You are the child of prophecy, the chosen Savior.
You are destined to save the world from darkness.
But now, I am here to share that heavy burden.
Ethan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Opening them again, he looked upon these Enlightenment members he had single-handedly cultivated, who would now become his strength.
He stood up, and with a voice that did not waver, he declared:
"We are the lamp of the world!"
"Not even fate can stop our march toward a better tomorrow!"
Sirius falling through the veil, Lupin dying in battle alongside his love, the Weasley twins losing one of their own...
This time, he would rewrite the ending. He would rewrite fate!
"If I fail, let the stars and the night wrap my corpse."
Ethan said in a low voice, an alien light bursting from his cobalt-blue eyes.
Everyone was awestruck by Ethan.
The look in their eyes as they gazed at him bordered on fanatical worship!
The brilliance of the Lamp lit up inside every single person's mind!
Forming a dazzling panorama that only Ethan could see!
Just then, a touch of coldness landed on the back of his hand.
Luna's soft, delicate hand covered his.
Ethan turned his head to meet Luna's clear, warm blue eyes.
"I won't let you die, Ethan."
"Because you still have to go on adventures with me."
Luna's eyes curved into a smile, her voice like a summer night's breeze passing through the woods.
Shadows obscured her face, making it hard for Ethan to see her expression clearly.
He only felt the hand covering his; the pressure was as light as a feather's sweep, yet it gave him an inexplicable sensation.
Like the wet, sticky kiss of a lover attached to the very bone.
Something he could never shake off, no matter how hard he tried.
"Of course," Ethan snapped back to reality and smiled. "I won't kick the bucket that easily."
If even he lost, that just meant the cheat codes weren't turned on.
The gathering continued in a fervent atmosphere.
Everyone was fired up, discussing the feasibility of blowing up Gringotts.
Fueled by Butterbeer, their faces were flushed and necks thick with excitement.
The Hog's Head Inn had probably never been this lively.
"Really... kids these days are something else."
Aberforth shook his head helplessly.
A touch of respect, which even he hadn't realized, colored his gaze as he looked at Ethan.
...Making such a ruckus, yet not a shadow of an Auror to be seen.
It was likely due to that black-haired boy's magic.
Tsk, tsk. My foolish brother... you really have raised a "monster"!
Hermione frowned, pondering. "Gringotts only has one entrance. If we attack from the front, it will be hard to avoid direct conflict..."
That would make them no different from thugs committing a home invasion.
Ethan nodded seriously. "Indeed. How to raid it elegantly and aesthetically is a major issue."
Hermione: "..."
That seemed like the least important issue.
Just then, a timid arm was raised.
Neville, face red and stammering with nervousness, said, "M-my Gran once mentioned to me... the Order of the Phoenix has a secret map of Gringotts..."
Everyone blinked in confusion. "Order of the Phoenix? What's the Order of the Phoenix?"
Harry and the trio: "..."
A few seconds later, Neville's face gradually turned pale. Realizing his slip-up too late, he clamped a hand over his mouth, looking ready to cry.
Regarding this, Ethan indicated he was used to it.
Hogwarts was practically populated by sieves.
Since it was the era of the Enlightenment Lamp from now on, Ethan thought about it and gave a concise introduction to the Order of the Phoenix.
Roughly, it was the resistance organization independent of the Ministry, led by Dumbledore during the last war against Voldemort.
"Wow~ so cool!" Lavender's eyes sparkled. "Then now that the war is over, they must have been rewarded well, right?"
She imagined shining knights with medals.
However, at these words, those in the know fell silent.
Neville's expression was the worst of all.
A mix of numb grief, indignation, and confusion.
—Things being as they were, what could he do?
His parents had been tortured into insanity.
Even his grandmother, after so many years of seeking medical help, had given up hope.
Clap!
Ethan clapped his hands, snapping everyone back to reality.
He spoke up:
"The intelligence you provided is very useful, Neville."
"Since there's a lead, we shall start by investigating the Order of the Phoenix."
"The rest of you, continue following the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and refine your spell training."
Hearing this, everyone immediately forgot the awkwardness and put on long faces.
—Training with Professor Norn is practically harder than blowing up Gringotts!
At least the latter doesn't involve pain and torture!!
However.
The veteran members of the Order of the Phoenix indicated they did not have a secret map of Gringotts.
Sirius said excitedly, "Map? What do you want a secret map of Gringotts for? To blow up Gringotts? Count me in!"
Lupin looked worried. "I seem to recall hearing something about that, but I don't know the specifics... You aren't planning to use it for anything bad, are you?"
It was Mad-Eye Moody who gave useful intelligence:
"Ugh—I remember the Longbottoms mentioning that thing. Anyway, it's not in the Order."
"If that thing is real, then it must exist only in the minds of the Longbottom couple."
When the weekend arrived.
Ethan and other society members went to the Black family ancestral home to search.
They looked for two whole days.
Aside from a snuffbox that bit noses, a compass that spun wildly non-stop... and the ghoul living in the attic, they found nothing.
"Hmm..." Ethan crossed his arms, flicking away a Doxy that pounced on him, and muttered, "Looks like there's only one way left."
Ethan snapped his fingers and smiled at Neville.
"Go directly and ask your parents, the Longbottoms."
Neville went stiff.
He lowered his head, lips trembling, and said in an almost imperceptible voice:
"I... actually, my parents... are in a coma due to illness. They can't communicate."
In Neville's mind, the mocking words of the dark wizards in the underground cave surfaced uncontrollably.
Like a sharp knife, they stabbed into his heart.
Usually, upon receiving such an answer, a normal person's reaction would be to feel pity and apologize.
Then, never mention the subject again.
Either find another way or give up.
"Then just cure the illness, right?"
"Huh?"
Neville was stunned.
He looked up and met Ethan's completely matter-of-fact face.
It was as casual as telling someone with a cold to drink more hot water.
His eyes were perfectly clear.
Neville said in a panic, "It—it can't be cured—"
Ethan pondered, "Although a complete cure in one go might be difficult, if it's just to hear them speak, for the current me, it is achievable."
The Longbottoms' condition was trickier than the werewolf curse.
If the soul were compared to an egg, the werewolf curse was like eggshells mixed in.
As long as you protected the egg and picked them out, it could be solved.
But being tortured into insanity meant the soul had been shattered.
It had turned into scrambled eggs, extremely hard to restore.
"Perhaps the newly acquired ancient magic—[Arc Moon]—can be of use."
He remembered the magic description.
[Arc Moon] was so sharp it could even sever the soul.
In a few breaths, inspiration struck Ethan.
Looking up to see Neville still hemming and hawing, he couldn't help but give a brilliant smile.
He raised his hand, pressed it onto the increasingly sturdy Gryffindor's shoulder, and said confidently:
"They will be cured. Trust me."
Neville was flabbergasted.
He didn't know if what rose in his heart was worry or hope.
...Merciful God, please do not give him hope only to let him fall into deeper despair.
Neville prayed sincerely.
After a thought, he swapped "Merciful God" for the "Four Chosen Gods."
The reference was clearer that way.
Several days later.
A dilapidated red-brick department store with a sign reading "Purge and Dowse, Ltd."
"I'm here to visit a patient."
Neville said to a mannequin in the window.
Click, clack.
The lifeless mannequin sprang into action.
It nodded stiffly and conjured a hidden door.
"I've always felt this mannequin looks a bit painful," Neville muttered.
He was glared at sternly by his grandmother.
"Nice aesthetic."
Ethan nodded appreciatively at the mannequin.
They entered the hidden door and arrived at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
When Ethan's tall, handsome figure appeared in the lobby, the air itself seemed to freeze.
Then, nurses scrambled over.
One of them, shoving her fingers into a colleague's nostrils, claimed first place and asked in a sickly sweet voice:
"May I ask, is there anything I can help you with?"
Ethan: "I'm here to visit a patient."
Nurse: "Oh—what a kind child~ What is your name?"
Ethan: "Ethan Vincent."
The moment this name was spoken, the entire lobby dropped into a silence profound enough to hear a pin drop!
Nurses, Healers, patients—everyone swiveled their heads to look at Ethan, staring in shock and stupor!
Splat.
A patient's eyeball fell to the floor, and they didn't even notice.
It was as if someone had publicly spoken the name of "You-Know-Who."
The next second—
Whoosh!
The nurses who had surrounded him scattered instantly!
Hiding behind pillars, shrinking under counters.
Their expressions were filled with resentment.
—It's him! It's him!
The demon who has caused St Mungo's to work crazy overtime countless times!!
Ethan scratched his head and smiled:
"Looks like I'm as handsome as ever."
Neville: "..."
Do you have some misunderstanding about the definition of 'handsome'?!
Neville's grandmother, Madam Augusta, frowned deeply.
Muttering raspily like a terrifying old lady, she said:
"Neville, what kind of person have you brought? He's practically no different from a lunatic."
"Tsk, a complete waste of time."
Neville flinched, bowing his head, daring not to speak.
Although he was in his fifth year, he still didn't dare say "no" to his gran.
After all, this "Old God of War" had a verifiable combat record.
She had left him with deep childhood trauma.
Neville: "E-Ethan! I'll take you to the ward..."
Taking the elevator, they arrived at the Spell Damage ward on the fourth floor.
The long-term residents' ward, the Janus Thickey Ward.
Coincidentally, Ethan saw an old acquaintance.
"Another letter from a lady! Hmm~ It seems I really am a very famous, very amazing big shot!"
"I must practice my signature, hehe~"
There was Gilderoy Lockhart, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from their second year.
He was lying on his hospital bed, sticking his bottom out, scribbling signatures furiously with a quill.
Around him lay scattered exquisite letters emitting perfume, along with practice sheets filled with flowery signatures.
Lockhart: "Hmph hmph~ I am the greatest wizard—Ah! Guests! Are you also here for my autograph—"
His words came to an abrupt halt the moment he saw Ethan.
As if seeing some unspeakable horror, or having a deep-seated fear awakened in his heart.
Lockhart's eyes suddenly bulged.
Like a chicken having its neck stepped on, he shrieked, "Ahhh!"
"Save—Save me!!!"
He rolled under the bed in a flash, ink staining the stationery and sheets.
Hands clutching his head, he wailed and trembled.
Everyone silently turned their heads to look at Ethan.
Ethan: None of my business Ethan didn't do anything
After all, it was [Mr. Lamp] who did it~
The Healers hurriedly dragged Lockhart out.
They muttered, "Strange, he's usually very stable. What's wrong with him? It's like he saw a Dementor..."
Click.
The door closed.
The ward fell completely silent.
Ethan turned his gaze to a man and a woman situated further inside.
Even with the commotion just now, they showed no reaction.
They simply smiled vacantly, surrounded by scattered, colorful candy wrappers.
"They are my parents... tortured by the Cruciatus Curse into this state."
Neville whispered, his eyes rimmed with red.
Just then.
A crumpled, pink lozenge-patterned gum wrapper was stuffed into his hand.
"Ah, ah..."
As if to comfort him, Neville's mother kept pushing the wrapper into Neville's hand.
She wore a simple, honest smile on her face, making incoherent sounds.
"Thanks, Mum."
Neville, as if accustomed to this, carefully placed the wrapper into his pocket.
"Leave the rest to me."
Ethan held Neville's shoulder and gently pushed him to the back.
Standing before the catatonic couple, he took a deep breath.
He raised his hand, and white light erupted from his palm.
It transformed into an incredibly sharp silver rapier!
A new creation infused with the magic of [Arc Moon]—
Sword that Pierces the Skin: Sewing Needle!
Capable of slicing through flesh to reach the soul!
It would solve the problem... from the root!
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my pa-treon:
pat reon .c-om/windkaze