HP: The Wizard Who Paints with Magic

Ethan's eyes gleamed as he slammed the card-sized painting onto the Ravenclaw common room door.

Instantly, a bright white light erupted. A glowing rectangular frame appeared on the solid wood, and the moment it formed, Ethan's magic was siphoned away as if into a black hole.

"Ugh!"

Ethan's pupils constricted, his whole body stinging as if pricked by countless needles. He gritted his teeth and held on, catching a glimpse of a blurry scene within the rectangular frame—dark blue sofas and bookshelves. It was the inside of the Ravenclaw common room.

He had succeeded!

A grin stretched across Ethan's face. At this moment, he was like a predator who had shed his disguise, erupting with a daunting aura that made the surrounding students instinctively take a step back.

W-what happened?!

In the span of a breath, the scene within the doorframe grew even blurrier and more distorted, like a magical passage on the verge of collapse. Using his last ounce of strength, Ethan mobilized every cell in his body and leaped straight into the shimmering frame.

The next second—

Whoosh!

The rectangle of light collapsed inward and vanished, leaving only the bronze door with its eagle-headed knocker. It stood silently before them, as if nothing had ever happened.

A dead silence fell over the crowd. Everyone stared at the empty door, frozen in place. After a long moment, someone finally broke the stillness.

"E-Ethan? Where did he go?" Michael swallowed, his voice hoarse. Could he have really passed through that strange door, through Ravenclaw's ancient barrier, and directly entered the common room? Impossible! That was a test set by one of the Four Founders; how could a first-year break it?

Prefect Robert snapped back to reality. Composing himself, he walked hesitantly to the door and pressed his ear against it. The wood was too thick; he couldn't hear a thing. He straightened up, his face a little red, and cleared his throat twice before tentatively knocking.

Thump, thump.

A dull sound echoed at the top of the tower. Outside the window, the moon hung high. The other Houses were probably already sound asleep, while they were still miserably waiting outside, their intelligence crushed by a door knocker.

After a few seconds, a soft click sounded from the other side. The door opened a crack, and Ethan's pale, sweat-soaked face appeared.

Robert's eyes widened in disbelief. He had actually done it. He had cut the knot and bypassed the test set by Lady Ravenclaw herself. What kind of magic was that? It was unheard of!

Robert felt his face burning with a phantom pain. He looked at Ethan, who appeared as if he'd just been pulled from the lake. Strands of black hair clung to his forehead, and his lips were bloodless, as if his vitality had been completely drained. He was barely standing, relying on the doorframe and sheer willpower.

Yet, his cobalt-blue eyes were sparkling. Like stars in the night sky, their dazzling light made Robert instinctively avert his gaze. This was the light of unconventionality, of forging new paths, of a true thirst for knowledge and exploration. In that moment, Robert finally understood who truly possessed the Ravenclaw spirit. Ravenclaw never rejected eccentricity; instead, they cherished its unique value.

If it weren't for Ethan, he thought, I would have forgotten Ravenclaw's true teachings. A sense of awe and admiration filled him. It was a pity he would graduate next year. He wondered if the other students would be able to accept someone like Ethan. To help him get along better in Ravenclaw, he, as Prefect, should put in a good word.

Robert adjusted his expression and smiled. "We thank you for opening the door for us—"

Ethan smiled back. "You're thanking me too soon."

Before the Prefect could react, the door slammed shut with a bang, almost clipping his nose.

An awkward silence permeated the dumbfounded students. Michael raised a trembling finger and pointed at the door.

"He… Ethan just slammed the door shut?"

"He wants us to figure out how to get in?!"

"Noooo—!" Michael scrambled to the door, banging on it and wailing, "Boss! Master! Godfather! Just let me in, boo hoo hoo!"

The cold, silent door was his only answer.

Robert's expression twisted, and he rubbed his forehead in annoyance and helplessness. What 'helping Ethan get along better.' This kid had no intention of getting along with them at all. It seemed that the foolish ones, from beginning to end, were they, the seniors who prided themselves on their intelligence.

Inside the Ravenclaw common room, Ethan listened to the commotion outside and slyly stuck out his tongue. Want to piggyback on my success to get in? No way. Figure it out yourselves.

"Sigh, to prevent them from developing a bad habit of relying on others, I truly put in a lot of effort," Ethan said to himself, feigning emotion as he wiped away two crocodile tears. He slowly slid down the doorframe, slumping to the floor, unable to move a muscle.

He hadn't expected to actually break through the Ravenclaw door's enchantment. And this was only a Tier 1 Blue Precious card. What kind of power would a Purple Epic or a golden Legendary painting hold? Now he knew: whatever effect was written on the card, it would be realized. If it said it could open a door, it would open a door. The only limit was his own magic.

Ethan reached out his hand. The One-Look Open Door card turned to dust in his palm.

[Painting damaged!]

[If you replace the painting material, you can continue to upgrade it and make it last longer.]

[Due to your painting leaving a deep impression on everyone, Soul Fusion increased!]

[28% → 29%!]

A familiar warmth flowed through him, and feeling gradually returned to his limbs. He needed to increase his Soul Fusion to gain more magic to make his paintings more effective. He needed to continue spreading his art. Just 1% more to break the 30% barrier.

Time for a big move, Ethan pondered. How about a small art exhibition at the school?

The problem was, an exhibition would require proper oil painting canvases, not the drawing paper Luna sent him. Every week, her owl, Carrot, would bring him a new batch of supplies, which covered his daily practice. He was very grateful and exchanged letters with Luna almost daily, so much so that Carrot had gotten thinner.

Behind every perfect painting were countless hours of practice and a large consumption of art supplies. There was a reason for the saying, "Poor people shouldn't touch art."

But he just loved it.

"What a money pit…" Ethan sighed softly. The immediate priority was to make money, upgrade to professional supplies, and prepare for his exhibition. I need to find a way to make money at school. I wonder if I can assist the professors?

(End of Chapter)

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