The next morning at breakfast, Harry and Ron immediately resumed discussing whatever was hidden beneath the trapdoor on the fourth floor.
"It's either extremely valuable," Ron declared confidently, "or extremely dangerous."
"Or both," Harry added in a serious detective voice.
Hermione, who had nearly died alongside them the previous night, had already drawn a firm emotional line between herself and the two idiots. At breakfast she deliberately sat several seats away, radiating visible disappointment.
Ethan, meanwhile, had no interest whatsoever in joining their conspiracy theories.
After Transfiguration class this morning, he had important business to handle in the Room of Requirement.
Specifically: magical experimentation.
Earlier that morning, Ethan had attempted several advanced spells he previously couldn't cast successfully. Surprisingly, at least one had worked.
The Bubble-Head Charm.
Which meant something extremely important.
His increasing soul completeness was directly improving his magical ability.
Ordinary young wizards had to wait years before mastering complicated magic. Ethan, however, seemed capable of skipping entire stages through raw soul strength alone.
That was exciting.
Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall had also assigned enough homework to bury a small child alive, so Ethan returned to the Room of Requirement carrying a stack of parchment under one arm and The Complete Book of Positive Spells under the other.
The moment he entered, he immediately sat cross-legged on the floor and resumed testing magic.
"Apparition—"
"FUCK!"
The Count exploded into furious owl profanity as his body suddenly lost control and flipped upside down off the perch.
"Silencio."
Instant silence.
The Count continued screaming obscenities furiously, but no sound emerged except furious beak movements.
After several more hours of experimentation, Ethan reached an important conclusion.
Most of the spells inside the book were no longer difficult for him to cast.
The real limitation wasn't spell control anymore—it was magical output.
No matter how much emotion Ethan forced into his casting, the maximum magical power available to him remained fixed at a certain ceiling.
Some extremely advanced magic still refused to function properly as well. Spells like Bluebell Flames and the Hour-Reversal Charm simply collapsed midway through casting.
Still, the results were enough.
Soul strength clearly unlocked stronger magic while also increasing Ethan's magical reserves.
Which led directly to another question.
What exactly was he?
After all, he had supposedly been created as a weapon through the sacrifices and experiments of Dark wizards. Surely he wasn't just "a Dementor with a human body who could talk and use magic."
That sounded disappointingly simple.
Alchemy probably played some role in his creation.
Unless the wizarding world secretly had magical hybridisation research hidden somewhere.
"You really use me as a test subject every single time, don't you?"
Ethan finally removed the silencing charm from the Count shortly before leaving.
"Bloody hell…"
The Count's vocabulary remained approximately eighty percent swearing.
Fortunately, Ethan possessed complete immunity to psychological damage from insults.
Once you accepted the possibility that your biological mother might have been a Dementor, Dark wizard, or some unidentified magical catastrophe, ordinary profanity stopped mattering much.
In a strange way, Ethan was actually the ideal owner for the Count.
Other children had mothers.
Ethan merely had theories.
Gradually, Ethan's Hogwarts routine settled into a strange but stable cycle.
During class hours, he appeared reliably inside classrooms like a normal student.
Outside lessons, however, Ethan might randomly spawn anywhere across the castle.
The Great Hall.
The library.
The Forbidden Forest.
Quirrell's office.
The dormitory.
Or most commonly: the Room of Requirement.
Hermione had gradually developed a slightly improved opinion of Ethan over the past few weeks. Compared to Harry and Ron, who actively sprinted toward danger whenever possible, Ethan at least appeared more academically productive.
Unfortunately, Ethan only visited Hermione consistently for one reason.
Homework copying.
"What exactly are you studying so seriously for?" Hermione finally asked one weekend while Ethan copied her assignment one-handed while eating a cream-filled pastry.
"Homework is the greatest waste of time ever invented," Ethan replied calmly. "And I dislike wasting time."
After several weeks at Hogwarts, Ethan had developed a perfect understanding of each professor's minimum assignment requirements.
As long as the essay contained words and didn't look suspiciously generated by some unnatural intelligence, most professors accepted it happily.
"…Actually, artificial intelligence doesn't exist yet," Ethan suddenly remembered aloud. "Right. It's only 1991."
Hermione opened her mouth, clearly intending to lecture him.
Then she hesitated.
The problem was that Ethan genuinely was talented.
Sometimes his comments about spell structure or magical theory even inspired her own understanding. Unfortunately, immediately after copying homework, Ethan always vanished again before any meaningful educational reform could occur.
This time was no different.
After leaving Hermione an entire pile of Honeydukes sweets as "payment," Ethan disappeared once more without noticing Hermione was the daughter of dentists and deeply suspicious of candy capable of causing cavities through pure proximity.
Ethan hurried directly toward the library.
For weeks, several books he desperately wanted remained permanently unavailable. Every time he checked the shelves, titles like Advanced Alchemy Explained and Soul Preservation and Containment still showed Borrowed.
If he couldn't read those books soon, Ethan genuinely feared he might lose something beautiful.
Such as patience.
Or kindness.
Or affection for Hogwarts.
"What fortunate timing, Mr. Norton."
Madam Pince suddenly emerged from between the shelves carrying several heavy books stacked in her arms.
"These have just been returned."
Ethan nearly cried with happiness.
After quickly completing the borrowing process, he secretly checked the borrowing records inside the covers.
Sure enough.
The previous borrower was Dumbledore.
Technically, Hogwarts library rules prohibited students from monopolising books for weeks at a time.
Apparently those rules did not apply to Headmasters.
Ethan stared at the names in disbelief.
Seriously?
Dumbledore was already one of the greatest alchemists alive. Why did he still need Advanced Alchemy Explained?
Unless…
The old man had intentionally delayed Ethan from accessing books related to his origins.
Then again, if Dumbledore truly wanted to prevent Ethan from reading them entirely, he could simply remove the books permanently.
Instead, he eventually returned them.
Ethan didn't understand the reasoning.
Fortunately, understanding wasn't necessary.
As long as he could finally read them.
He immediately rushed back toward the Room of Requirement carrying the books like stolen treasure.
At this point, the room had essentially become Ethan's personal secret base. Because of the Count's constant presence, the magic even adjusted automatically to create owl perches, soft nests, and various absurd comforts tailored specifically for a spoiled talking bird.
The Count currently slept inside an actual bed near the fireplace.
An owl-sized bed.
"I've never seen an owl use furniture before," Ethan said darkly after entering. "One day you're going to suddenly transform into a human, aren't you?"
"Hm?" The Count lazily opened one eye from his strange sleeping position. "Don't you like animals becoming human? Last week I heard you telling a stray cat to 'hurry up and turn into a catgirl already.'"
"There's a massive difference," Ethan replied immediately. "Between a cute catgirl and some suspicious shirtless owl man."
He shuddered visibly.
"If the second thing appeared in front of me, I'd probably cast Avada Kedavra on instinct."
"Relax," the Count yawned. "Even if I could transform species, I still wouldn't choose to become an upright ape like humans."
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