During Professor Flitwick's Charms class, he was instructing Seamus Finnigan on spellcasting. Many students observed closely, hoping to glean insights from the demonstration. Suddenly, a brilliant flash erupted, momentarily blinding those nearby.
While some students managed to shield their eyes in time, many were caught off guard. The intense light and ensuing explosion left several Gryffindor students with singed faces and hair curled as if scorched by fire. Professor Flitwick, due to his short stature, had been under the table and thus avoided the brunt of the blast. However, the flash temporarily impaired his vision, and the noise left his ears ringing.
"What just happened?" Terry asked, his vision still blurry. He had been conversing with Ginny when Ethan had shouted for everyone to close their eyes. Seeing Ginny do so, he had instinctively followed suit.
"Seamus Finnigan's spell backfired," Ethan explained, exasperated. "It was like a low-grade flashbang—bright light and a loud bang."
"Everyone, remain calm and return to your seats," Professor Flitwick's amplified voice echoed throughout the classroom as he levitated himself into the air. He understood the importance of maintaining order, especially when students were disoriented.
Ethan noticed Professor Flitwick's eyes tightly shut, tears streaming down his cheeks—a clear sign of discomfort. Recognizing the need for assistance, Ethan, along with other students who had heeded his warning, helped calm their peers, guiding them back to their seats and aiding those who had fallen.
Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students bore the brunt of the incident. Cassandra appeared unharmed, while Hermione had her head buried in her arms on the desk, clearly affected.
After about ten minutes, the effects of the intense light subsided, and students began to regain their vision. Given the circumstances, Professor Flitwick decided to cancel the remainder of the class, making a mental note of Seamus Finnigan's name.
Ethan was aware that this was merely the beginning of Seamus's penchant for explosive mishaps. During the Battle of Hogwarts, Neville had even sought Seamus's expertise to blow up a bridge, indicating the lasting impression Seamus's accidents had left on the faculty.
Chapter 35: More Money Needed
Due to the earlier mishap in Charms class, the afternoon's flying lesson was canceled. Although the effects of Seamus's spell had mostly worn off, some students still experienced blurred vision, making flying inadvisable. This unexpected free time allowed first-year students to relax.
After lunch, Ethan approached the Gryffindor table and sat beside Hermione, greeting the Weasley twins as he did so.
"Why aren't you with your senior today?" Hermione inquired, swallowing her food and casting a sideways glance at Ethan.
"Why would I be with my senior?" Ethan responded, puzzled.
"Haven't you been eating with your senior these past few days? Laughing and chatting?"
Hermione realized she might have overstepped but continued, "I just noticed, that's all."
"I'm from Ravenclaw. Is there an issue with me dining with fellow Ravenclaw students?" Ethan retorted, concerned about maintaining his image in Hermione's eyes.
"No... no problem," Hermione replied, her confidence waning.
"Then why did you make me cry when we first met? It was embarrassing," she added, recalling their initial encounter.
"I wanted to show you that there's always someone better. You were a bit too proud. Didn't that motivate you to work harder and become even more excellent?" Ethan explained, adopting a 'it's for your own good' demeanor.
"That's true," Hermione admitted, but quickly added, "But why did you call me buck teeth?"
"Just to make you remember me," Ethan said with a grin. "And you did, didn't you?"
Hermione pondered this, occasionally chuckling to herself.
Meanwhile, Ethan turned his attention to Harry and Ron, focusing on the latter.
"Ethan, you know Scabbers is like family to me," Ron began. "Three Sickles a day is a lot to consider."
"A new wand costs seven Galleons, and an owl is twenty. Don't you want those?" Ethan tempted.
The Weasley family, with many children, had limited funds. Ron, being the youngest son, often received hand-me-downs. The allure of new items was strong.
"Scabbers has been with me for ten years. We even share a bed. He's like a younger brother," Ron protested.
"I'm not going to harm him. Whatever you give me, I'll return as is. It's like free Sickles!" Ethan argued.
"Alright, more money!" Ron exclaimed, eyes gleaming.
The deal was struck: Ethan would rent Scabbers for two Galleons a week. Ron, thrilled, rushed to the Gryffindor dormitory to fetch Scabbers, eager to finalize the arrangement.
In Diagon Alley, a Galleon could buy a cage full of rats. They weren't magical creatures, merely used for experiments or as live food. Hogwarts didn't sell them, making this a profitable venture for Ethan.
"Deal. I'll return Scabbers next week!" Ethan said, placing Peter Pettigrew—disguised as Scabbers—into a cage and preparing to leave.
"Ethan, be careful. Scabbers is old. Don't be too rough," Ron advised.
Ron cared about Scabbers, but the promise of two Galleons overshadowed his concerns.
Ethan proceeded to the eighth floor and entered the Room of Requirement. Upon entering, Scabbers became agitated, sensing danger.
Once inside, Ethan released Scabbers from the cage and cast a spell.
"Crucio!"
The rat writhed in pain, caught off guard by the Unforgivable Curse.
"Resilient little thing," Ethan remarked, casting the Cruciatus Curse again.
This time, the rat foamed at the mouth, unable to maintain his Animagus form. He transformed into a short, balding man with small eyes and dirty clothes—Peter Pettigrew.
Peter lay on the ground, struggling to move.
"What do you want?" he asked, voice trembling.
Peter recognized Ethan from the Hogwarts Express but was baffled by how much Ethan seemed to know about him.
"I need you to do me a favor," Ethan replied with a smile.
Peter, though unassuming, was a formidable wizard. The Marauders—James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter—were all skilled. Despite their eventual fates, they had been elites in their time.
"Is this how you ask for help?" Peter questioned, wary.
"Then how would you like me to ask?" Ethan responded coldly.
"What do you want me to do? Just tell me," Peter conceded, realizing he had no choice.
"Do you know the Fiendfyre Curse?" Ethan inquired.
The Fiendfyre Curse was a powerful Dark Art, producing flames that could consume almost anything, including souls. It was challenging to control and could backfire if mishandled. However, Ethan possessed a "Fire Affinity" talent, making him uniquely suited to mastering it.