After the revelry, the crowd scattered like the tide, leaving only Ethan slumped on the floor, his clothes in disarray, his eyes hollow and his expression blank.
“Waaah, I’m not clean anymore…”
Ethan wiped the tears he had squeezed from the corners of his eyes with his torn and tattered clothes, sniffling pitifully.
The ones who had been pretending to sleep lifted their blankets and exchanged glances, all feeling terribly guilty for having simply watched.
But there was nothing they could do.
You could never stand alone against a group of star-struck fangirls.
If you were not careful, you might get dragged in too.
Even the four of them together would not have stood a chance.
Their combat power was too strong!
“Um, Ethan.
Are you okay?”
Good honest Neville was the first to interrupt Ethan’s one-man act.
“No!
And it’s a big problem!” Ethan’s eyes lit up at those words.
He sprang up from the floor and stood on the moral high ground, pointing at the four of them with righteous indignation.
“It’s all because you lot stood by and did nothing!
My body is already in tatters!”
“Ah, what do we do if it’s that serious?” Neville immediately panicked.
“We have to get you to the Hospital Wing right away… no, wait, St.
Mungo’s would be better.
I’ll go find the professors right now.”
Ethan: “…”
What should I do?
My conscience suddenly hurts again.
Sincerity is the ultimate killing move.
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Ethan hurriedly held Neville back before he could run off to call the professors.
“I’m tough.
I’ll be fine after a night’s sleep.”
“Really?” Neville looked doubtful.
“Ethan, you can’t push yourself too hard.”
“I’m really fine.
Neville, you can relax.” Ethan changed out of his ruined clothes and flopped neatly onto his bed.
“All of you hurry up and sleep.
We’ve got History of Magic first thing tomorrow morning.”
The night passed without dreams.
The next day, as soon as Ethan stepped out of the dormitory, he sensed that the atmosphere was a little strange.
Wherever he went, curious looks from who knew where kept landing on him.
While he was eating in the Great Hall, students kept walking past him, doubling back, and sneaking another glance.
“Ethan, I understand how you feel.” Harry patted Ethan on the shoulder, his face full of barely concealed schadenfreude.
Normally, as the Boy Who Lived, Harry was the one who had to endure people’s stares everywhere he went.
But thanks to Ethan running his mouth last night, all the chatter was now focused on Ethan, which happened to draw some of the fire away from him.
It felt great.
Ethan was a solid guy.
This friendship was sealed!
“It’s fine.
I’m used to it.”
Ethan did not even lift his head to look around.
He focused entirely on demolishing the sandwich filled with fried egg and slices of bacon.
“Honestly, it would be stranger if it hadn’t spread this fast.
And I dare say there’ll be at least three versions of the story within a week.” Ethan stuffed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, made an OK gesture, and shrugged.
…
History of Magic was publicly acknowledged as the dullest course ever designed in the wizarding world, and it was also the only course at Hogwarts taught by a ghost.
It was said that their ghost teacher, Professor Binns, had once fallen asleep in front of the fireplace in the staff room.
When he went to teach the next morning, he forgot to bring his body with him, nearly scaring the students who came to class out of their wits.
A real ghost sighting.
On top of that, Professor Binns spoke in a wheezing, drawn-out drone, and his lectures were nothing more than mechanically repeating the points in the textbook, with absolutely no regard for the classroom atmosphere.
The hypnotic effect was excellent.
Fortunately, this was also the only class where Ethan did not have to stay behind for extra lessons.
Professor Binns strongly opposed the idea of after-class tutoring, believing Ethan only needed to read the textbook thoroughly on his own and pass the special test over the weekend.
In any case, not having to face this monk-like chanting was a blessing amid misfortune.
“…And so, King Uther, having been defeated by the vile King Vortigern, decided to entrust his hopes to the next generation.
Together with the court Magus Merlin, ah, he used the bloodline of the King of Britannia, along with the consciousness of Britannia’s incarnation as the Red Dragon as the core, er, to create a new King of Britannia who stood above humanity.
This newly created king was King Arthur.
Everyone, mark this down.
It’s important and will be on the exam.
Be sure to remember the relationships between the figures clearly…”
No matter how interesting something was, once Professor Binns said it out loud, it was almost guaranteed to make people drowsy within ten minutes, as if they had drunk a cup of sleeping black tea.
If the weather was even a little warmer, five minutes would be enough.
“Hey, Harry.
How much longer can you last?”
Ron, mixed in with the crowd in the back row, was desperately chatting with Harry to keep himself from falling asleep in class.
There was no helping it.
Professor Binns’s sleeping draught worked fast, and Ron simply could not withstand it.
“Still trying.” Harry fought against his head, which kept being drawn toward the desk, and squeezed out a short answer with all his strength.
“I’m so jealous of Ethan,” Ron said, every word dripping with envy, as he turned to look behind him.
Ethan was sitting in the very last row, his upper body sprawled across the desk, using his History of Magic textbook as a pillow and sleeping incredibly soundly.
We’re fighting for our lives trying not to sleep, and you’re sleeping like you own the place.
The worst part is that Professor Binns somehow still hasn’t noticed.
It was infuriating.
“Hey, hey, that red-haired boy over there.
Don’t get distracted in class.
Listen carefully.
What I just explained was all important.
If you don’t write it down, you’ll be the one crying when you can’t answer it on the exam…”
Professor Binns noticed Ron turning around and launched into another endless lecture.
“Ugh, just kill me.” Ron collapsed onto the desk, covered his ears, and entered ostrich mode.
So, Professor Binns, you can clearly see me turning around, but you somehow can’t see the bastard sleeping behind me.
Even more infuriating.
“Pfft.”
Hermione’s suppressed laugh came from the seat in front.
“Hermione, now that’s just going too far.
Is this really that funny?” Ron poked Hermione in the back.
“I did not laugh.” Hermione put away her smile and said solemnly, “I am a child who studies hard.
I would never laugh out loud in class.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure… unless I can’t help it.” Hermione’s shoulders trembled.
She was clearly having a very hard time holding it in.
Ron: I &%@#$&@#…
Class ended.
The students all filed out of the classroom listlessly.
Even a top student like Hermione could not help yawning twice.
“What’s next?”
Ron’s eyelids drooped as he asked the question, seemingly to no one in particular.
“Professor Flitwick’s Charms class.”
Ethan, who had slept through the entire lesson, answered with bright eyes and a full supply of energy.
“Ethan, does your conscience really not hurt?” Ron’s voice was full of resentment.
“??
What did I do now?” Ethan looked at Ron, utterly baffled.
That’s not right.
I haven’t done anything to screw Ron over today, have I?
Could he have found out that I slapped him yesterday morning?
“No, nothing.” Ron sighed to himself, sounding deeply tragic.
“Is this what they call fate?”
The question marks on Ethan’s face multiplied dramatically.
So you’re the new Riddler, huh?