Harry Potter: Rise of the Failed Art Student

[Artwork Used: Broom Rash]

[Effect: Causes red rashes to erupt on the affected area.]

Ethan released Malfoy's hand under his increasingly terrified gaze, looking down with keen interest.

This was his first time using this painting.

In the center of Malfoy's pale palm, large, bean-sized red rashes began to sprout.

One of them swelled larger and larger until it burst with a "pop," oozing a mix of yellow and red fluid.

Though it wasn't actually that severe, against the stark contrast of his skin, the blisters looked alarmingly vivid.

"Ahhh—AHHHHH!!!"

Malfoy raised his hand, letting out a scream of utter panic!

The air around them froze. Everyone turned in shock, staring at the two of them!

"Hmm, looks like it worked quite well."

Ethan nodded with satisfaction.

His other hand emerged from behind his back, revealing a crimson painting!

It was a miniature version of the Broom Rash artwork Ethan had created for The Quibbler, roughly the size of a playing card.

Its frame was white, signifying "white rarity."

After one use, [Broom Rash] did not vanish.

It could be reused.

Very convenient.

With a thought, the painting disappeared from Ethan's palm, returning to his "gallery."

"Even without infusing it with a spell, the effect is already this striking…" Ethan murmured calmly, observing Malfoy's swollen, reddened hand. "If I were to add a spell, how much better would it be?"

Would it escalate from red rashes at the point of contact to a full-body outbreak of festering sores?

That sounded rather intriguing~

Ethan's lips curved into a pleased smile.

"You—you monster! What did you do to me?!" Malfoy shrieked, his already pale face now ghostly white. "I'm telling my father! You're finished—"

"Oh, I haven't done anything at all. You can check my wand."

Ethan raised his hands innocently.

"You—"

"Mr. Malfoy," Ethan leaned in close to Malfoy's ear, speaking in a whisper, "this rash is called Broom Rash. It'll spread from your backside all the way across your body…"

"If you're not careful, next time, your entire face might end up looking like your backside."

Ethan finished slowly, stepping back two paces.

He was pleased to see Malfoy's expression morph into sheer terror.

How could this guy say something so horrifying with a 37°C mouth?!

Malfoy's mind uncontrollably conjured the image he'd seen in that illustration.

Pork-like skin, festering red rashes…

He couldn't help but itch all over, as if the rashes were already creeping beneath his clothes…

All the way to his face.

"WAAAH—!!!"

Malfoy finally broke down, bursting into tears and running off in a panic.

He didn't even manage to spit out the classic villain line, "You'll pay for this!"

Tch, tch. Such weak mental fortitude. He needs more training.

Ethan shook his head.

He noted with some disappointment that his soul fusion level hadn't increased.

Next time, he'd try harder.

Amid the circle of onlookers, Ethan leisurely cast a Levitation Charm on his trunk and strolled onto the train.

The students in the corridor hurriedly made way for him, granting Ethan a VIP experience.

Sigh~ The life of a celebrity was just so… unremarkably splendid.

Ethan mused.

He watched as the students ahead scattered like rabbits spotting an eagle, leaving him an empty compartment.

Not long after.

Woo-oo!

With a low, resonant whistle, the train jolted twice and began to move slowly.

Ethan closed his textbook.

He glanced out the window at the parents waving goodbye, his expression calm, undisturbed.

"Haa~"

Ethan let out a tired yawn.

The warm sunlight bathed his face in a golden glow—a rare sunny day in Britain.

Clunk, clunk.

The rhythmic swaying of the train made Ethan's eyelids grow heavy.

He didn't fight the drowsiness. Even the soft train seat was far more comfortable than the rickety, hard bed in his Spider's End home.

With the last shred of consciousness, Ethan slapped the textbook over his face.

And then, he sank into a deep sleep.

When Harry and Ron, dragging their luggage, hurriedly yanked open the compartment door, they were greeted by a bizarre sight: a "book-eating" scene.

They exchanged a glance, carefully stowed their luggage, and sat across from Ethan, finally breathing a sigh of relief.

They'd met on the platform, arriving too late.

Every other compartment was full.

But thank Merlin, they'd found an empty one.

They were truly lucky.

Around half-past twelve.

Ethan was woken by hunger.

The tantalizing aroma of food wafted into his nose.

His nose twitched twice, his lashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.

Across from him were two very familiar figures.

Devouring a pile of snacks with gusto.

That iconic red hair and freckles, those round glasses and green eyes.

With one glance, Ethan recognized them.

Ron Weasley and the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter.

Faced with these two pivotal characters from the original story—one of them the protagonist—Ethan's eyes crinkled into a smile.

His mind began to simulate how to leave a lasting impression on them.

But before he could speak—

Gurgle~

His stomach beat him to it with a loud greeting.

At the sound, Harry, who'd been a bit tense, immediately relaxed.

The boy across from them was strikingly handsome.

Quiet and composed, he was like one of those private school students they'd passed on the street, dressed in pristine uniforms.

He felt like he belonged to a different world.

"Here, have some! Eat whatever you like!"

Harry grabbed a pumpkin pasty and eagerly handed it over, looking at Ethan with earnest eyes.

At that moment, Harry seemed to glow with sunlight, radiating a fatherly warmth.

"…"

Ethan licked his lips and, in the end, didn't refuse.

"Thanks," he said, taking the pasty with a genuine smile. "I'm Ethan Vincent. Nice to meet you both."

"Oh, I'm… I'm Harry Potter," Harry said softly.

But when he noticed Ethan subtly glance at his scar without reacting further, he couldn't help but feel relieved.

He'd already gotten so much attention, and it made him terribly uneasy.

Every time, it inevitably brought back memories of that terrifying night filled with green light.

Ethan's so kind and considerate. He must come from a really warm family, Harry thought, touched.

Ron introduced himself too and quickly struck up a lively conversation with Ethan.

Ethan's attentive listening made Ron feel a rare sense of being valued.

After all, he had five accomplished older brothers, and his mum was always too busy.

Though "Ethan Vincent" sounded vaguely familiar, the thought passed quickly, and Ron didn't dwell on it.

His gaze toward Ethan was already brimming with "Mate! Mate!"

"Guess who I ran into before boarding?" Ron leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially.

Ethan played along, leaning in and asking softly, "Who?"

"That crybaby Malfoy!"

"Just a rotten pure-blood supremacist! His whole family's no good—always making trouble for my dad at work!" Ron spat venomously.

"But someone pulled off an absolute legend of a move and made Malfoy cry his eyes out! Haha!"

"I nearly missed the train just watching him make a fool of himself!"

Ron leaned back in his seat, savoring the memory, imagining Malfoy on his knees, sobbing, while his brothers surrounded him in awe…

What a thrill!

Heh heh heh~

Ethan looked at Ron's goofy grin, curved his lips, and smiled without a word.

Harry glanced at his silly best mate, then at the calm and composed Ethan, and couldn't help but cover his face.

The contrast is brutal…

Then, a delayed question popped into Harry's mind.

…Wait, that's odd.

When they boarded, every other compartment was packed.

So why was this one always empty, with just Ethan in it?

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