Hogwarts: Starting as a Card Maker from a Failed Art Student

Chapter 32 You should pay me for this lesson.

Oh—are you angels?!

Ethan stared at Harry and Ron in astonishment, feeling his heart melt.

"Thank you so much, my good brothers! You've been a huge help!"

Ethan opened his arms and hugged the two little ones tightly, thinking to himself:

Whenever I start to lose my humanity, someone will prove that I am still alive.

There are still more good people than bad in the world.

Ethan said sincerely, "If it weren't for you, I would have attacked Filch and his cat."

Harry and Ron: "..."

Their shy and proud smiles froze on their faces, and their eyes widened in horror.

Ethan, please, please don't!

Although Filch wasn't a professor, he was still a faculty member!

Attacking faculty and staff is a much more serious offense than fighting with classmates!

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, both seeing the unspoken message in each other's eyes—

As expected of Ethan.

While others might only think about it, Ethan actually puts his ideas into action.

Late at night is not a good time to talk.

Hearing footsteps approaching in the distance, Harry and Ron quickly said goodbye to Ethan.

"If you're free tomorrow, we can go to Hagrid's hut together and ask him about Cerberus and this package!" Harry said.

"Okay," Ethan nodded, then thought for a moment, "I don't have class this afternoon, so let's go this afternoon?"

"good!"

The two little ones nodded vigorously at him, then tiptoed away.

Ethan smiled and waved, watching their figures disappear around the corner.

He turned his head and saw a beam of light shining towards him.

"Who's there?!"

"The patrolling Gryffindor prefect, Percy, holding a glass lantern, asked loudly."

No wonder Percy was a little nervous.

Anyone would be startled to see a dark figure standing motionless under the window in the dead of night.

Ethan slowly turned his head.

The smile, illuminated by the moonlight and the magic lamp, appeared like a painted mask.

Handsome, elegant and perfect.

But it seemed somewhat unreal.

"..."

Percy swallowed hard and instinctively grabbed his old wand.

But the next second...

Ethan took the initiative to greet him, saying, "Hi, Percy, good evening."

It was clearly late at night, not a normal time for greetings.

But Percy was still relieved.

He straightened his back, adopting the air of a prefect, and said, "Do you know what you're doing? Illegal nighttime stroll! And I caught you red-handed!"

Ethan blinked and said, "Sorry, but I went to work for Mr. Filch tonight. I'm just getting ready to go back to my dorm."

"...Ah, oh."

Percy was stunned. After thinking about it carefully, he realized that it was true.

When a young wizard is put in solitary confinement, the patrolling prefects will be notified.

I was startled by Ethan just now, and in my panic I completely forgot.

"Cough cough."

Perl, dressed in a suit, coughed twice in a mocking manner, hoping the darkness would conceal his flushed face, and asked suspiciously:

"Are you alone? I think I just heard some voices."

Ethan remained unfazed: "A ghost just passed by."

Before Percy could reply, Ethan yawned, rubbed his eyes, and pretended to be sleepy.

"If you're free, can I go back to my dorm and sleep? My arms are killing me from wiping the trophies all night."

although.

Strictly speaking, he only cleaned the glass case for a special contribution award.

The rest was all left to "clean up".

For some reason, even though she was a first-grader who was several years younger than me.

But Percy was inexplicably given a voice.

"Okay, go to sleep."

Percy nodded stiffly.

He watched as Ethan politely said goodbye and walked away with leisurely steps.

He had no idea that just a minute earlier, his own younger brother had broken several school rules and run away right under his nose.

......

The next day.

Early in the morning, Ethan, who always goes to bed early and gets up early, had unusually dark circles under his eyes.

However, what was even more disastrous was the Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the morning.

"This scarf was a gift from an African king or prince when I defeated the resurrected zombies!"

Professor Quirrell, wearing a large purple headscarf that looked like a frisbee, stammered as he spoke from the podium.

At first, everyone was really looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Because this is dangerous and mysterious "black magic"!

Although Hogwarts is not open to students exposing them to dark magic, they learn how to fight against it.

But just reading the textbook "Dark Powers: A Guide to Self-Defense" is interesting enough.

A frightening Boggart, a nocturnal vampire, and a mischievous Cornish elf.

Disarming spells, armor spells, and all sorts of strange and unusual anti-evil spells!

For example, how to correctly use magic to put the intestines back in when someone is attacked by a gut-pulling curse—

Instead of seeking out a Muggle doctor and giving them a clumsy explanation of why you have rectal prolapse (if you're still conscious at that point).

Ethan's favorite case is about a Muggle child who was captured by a monster and taken to another dimension (it is said that the bottom of the Department of Mysteries' elevator is connected to a dark and cold other dimension).

His Muggle mother hung fairy lights all over the house in order to contact her son from another dimension.

It cleverly uses the flashing of lights to determine the location and letters, and then engages in conversation.

This method even inspired the Ministry of Magic, becoming a model case.

By the way.

Michael found the case a bit scary, saying it "would give him nightmares at night."

His favorite stories are those of the hero Gilderoy Lockhart—especially the kind where he saves a damsel in distress.

Ethan couldn't bear to shatter his dreams.

After all, a year later, Lockhart's true capabilities were fully revealed.

Closer to home.

No matter how flowery the textbook descriptions may be.

When it came to Professor Quirrell, it was all for naught.

Not only was the entire classroom filled with a strong smell of garlic, but Professor Quirrell also stammered and spoke incoherently during his lecture.

When the students asked him how he defeated those monsters, he played his weather deck.

Ethan kept his head down, his nose tormented by the smell of garlic and his ears ravaged by the meaningless chatter.

His eyes were fixed on the textbook he had already read so many times that it was worn out, and a vein bulged on his forehead.

That's terrible.

It's a complete waste of time and money to suffer.

Damn it, he bought this textbook with his own money; don't underestimate the value of a secondhand textbook.

Although Professor Binns of the History of Magic lectures spoke like he was reciting scriptures, at least he was teaching in a proper and serious manner.

Where is Professor Quirrell?

BYD doesn't teach any knowledge at all.

All of this was stopped by the Dark Lord, right?

Ethan could no longer take it.

I stayed up all night last night writing down the Eris Curse, and my head is buzzing all morning.

This created a heavy atmosphere of low pressure around him.

"Bang."

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor interrupted Professor Quirrell's rambling.

All eyes were on Ethan, who had suddenly stood up.

Professor Quirrell paused, then forced a surprised and puzzled, stiff smile: "Vincent? May I ask what's wrong?"

Ethan smiled and said politely:

"Professor Quirrell, I think you should pay me for this lesson."