HP: The Wizard Who Paints with Magic

A moment of stunned silence, and then the Great Hall erupted into bedlam.

"Azkaban? I didn't mishear, did I? The Sorting Hat said Azkaban?!"

"H-how is that possible?! What was that new student thinking…"

"Merlin's beard, is he trying to get himself killed?!"

At the Gryffindor table, the Weasley twins stared at each other with eyes full of pure envy. Being sorted into Azkaban—this was an unprecedented feat! How had Ethan managed it? He looked so quiet and well-behaved, yet he'd pulled off something so monumental without a word. He had instantly become the center of attention.

Damn it. Why hadn't they thought of that prank?

On the dais, Professor McGonagall was utterly stunned. A hundred trolls charging into the Great Hall would not have surprised her more. She instinctively snatched the Sorting Hat off Ethan's head and, as if it were a faulty appliance, slapped it hard.

"Alright, Professor McGonagall, let me have a look," Dumbledore's calm voice rescued the beleaguered hat. "It seems our young wizard has played a little joke on us."

Dumbledore chuckled, his gaze landing on Ethan's innocent blue eyes. "Mr. Vincent, would you mind telling me what you were just thinking?"

Ethan blinked. "I was just sharing my grand ambitions."

"Hmm," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I would be delighted to hear you elaborate later. For now, however, let us focus on sorting you based on your personal qualities. After all, I can't very well send a newly enrolled student into the hands of Dementors, can I?"

Hearing this, Ethan narrowed his eyes. A threat? He hadn't expected the kindly old headmaster to resort to such tactics. Still, this wasn't the time for a dramatic outburst. He simply said, "Oh," and allowed the hat to be placed back on his head.

Honestly, Ethan thought, how was I to know this broken hat had so little ambition? Just two impassioned sentences, and it had shrieked like a banshee. Clearly, one couldn't expect a hat to have profound ideals.

"Actually, child," the Sorting Hat's voice echoed in his mind, "although I am just a hat, I hold the minds of the Four Founders. And while, in my opinion, you should go straight to Azkaban—since the Headmaster insists, I will take another look inside that head of yours."

Ethan cleared his throat and thought primly, "I believe I am suited for Hufflepuff."

"Hmm… I must say you are very intelligent and ambitious. How about Slytherin?"

"I want to go to Hufflepuff."

"Perhaps in Gryffindor, you could make like-minded friends. It would help you get on the right track."

"? Didn't you hear me? I said, I am suited for H-U-F-F-L-E-P-U-F-F."

"However, your thirst for knowledge and painting is stronger than anything else. I know just where to put you—RAVENCLAW!"

The last word was shouted aloud, echoing throughout the Great Hall.

Ethan snatched the hat off his head, a flash of annoyance on his face as he looked toward the blue-and-bronze table. After a moment of silence, a few hesitant claps finally broke out. Clearly, they weren't sure if welcoming a student who had been pre-sorted to Azkaban was something worth applauding.

"Don't worry," Ethan said loudly, a confident smile spreading across his face. "I will lead Ravenclaw to glory."

The applause grew even softer.

At the Gryffindor table, Ron whispered, "I knew he'd go to Ravenclaw! His spells are brilliant!" Harry, however, felt a mix of emotions. He wasn't sure if it was regret or relief that Ethan hadn't been sorted into his house.

"Very spirited," Dumbledore chuckled. "I hope you find the knowledge you desire in Ravenclaw."

Ethan nodded, stepped down from the dais, and walked toward the Ravenclaw table. Strangely, as he approached, he felt a sense of belonging. It was as if he was meant to be here, in this treasure trove of knowledge where academics reigned supreme.

After taking his seat, he glanced at the staff table, and his eyes met Professor Snape's. The Potions Master was listening to Professor Quirrell speak, but upon seeing Ethan, his eyes narrowed dangerously, and a malicious, triumphant smirk twisted his lips. It was the look of a predator that had finally cornered its prey.

Hmm, he must have received Malfoy's complaint, Ethan thought. Snape wouldn't drag him to his office for interrogation now; he was brewing something bigger, waiting to deliver a crushing blow at a more opportune moment.

It seems the 'Lily effect' is fading after two months, he mused, a cunning smile playing on his lips. Needs to be reapplied.

Beside him, Michael Corner, who had also been sorted into Ravenclaw, shivered when he saw that smile. He silently closed the mouth that had been about to offer a greeting. Ethan is terrifying!

As for Quirrell, Ethan gave him only a casual glance. That was a challenge destined for Harry; as long as the stuttering professor didn't get in his way, Ethan had no reason to interfere.

Finally, after the last student was sorted into Slytherin, Headmaster Dumbledore stepped forward once more. He spread his arms, his eyes sparkling with a vigor that defied his age.

"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" he boomed. "Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

The brief speech drew enthusiastic applause from the students as delicious food magically appeared on the long tables. Sizzling roasted chicken, beef, pork ribs, and plump sausages piled high next to mountains of potatoes and chips. Fragrant stews and sauces simmered next to buttered peas and cream of mushroom soup, their scents mingling with that of sweet pumpkin juice.

Ethan was quickly lost in the ocean of delicacies. Besides the pursuit of knowledge, the endless feasts were another great benefit of attending Hogwarts. He sat perfectly straight, chewing with his mouth closed, maintaining an impeccable posture even as his hands moved with relentless efficiency, making the food before him disappear at a magical rate.

"Alas…"

A faint sigh, as cold as ice, drifted from above. Ethan looked up and saw a graceful, ethereal blue figure floating away.

The Ravenclaw ghost, the Grey Lady

(End of Chapter)

***

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