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[HP:Failed Art Student]-Chapter 84: Miss Fleur, Ethan is Here~
🕑 Added 2025-08-26 14:59:12 +0000 UTCLet me see where you're hiding...
Outside the window of Herpo the Foul’s Abandoned Mansion, a massive, eerie eyeball, tethered to Ethan Vincent’s vision, rotated slowly. Its inky pupils pierced the gloom, scanning the room with predatory precision. A crimson glow, sharp as a searchlight, swept over every detail of the decrepit estate: the chaotic, overturned hall, the splintered staircase, the study littered with scattered tomes...
First floor. Second floor.
Ah.
Found you.
Ethan’s lips curled into a wicked grin, his cobalt-blue eyes locking onto the second-floor bathroom. With a flick of his wrist, he tightened his grip on his wand. Humming a jaunty tune, he ascended the stairs with light, almost playful steps, each one echoing with menace.
"Little bunny, be good, open the door, hurry up and let me in!" he sang, his voice dripping with mock sweetness.
Inside the second-floor bathroom, Fleur Delacour pressed herself into a shadowed corner, far from the window, her body trembling uncontrollably. Her striking face, usually radiant, was drained of color, pale as moonlight on a gravestone. Her emerald eyes, wide with terror, fixed on the red light creeping ever closer. She barely dared to breathe.
Just moments ago, that monstrous eyeball had seen her...
Pat-pat, pat-pat.
Footsteps, soft but deliberate, grew louder, stopping just outside the door. Fleur’s eyes brimmed with tears, her hand clamped over her mouth to stifle a whimper.
"Disillusionment Charm," she whispered, her voice a fragile thread.
Her wand traced a delicate arc through the air, and a sensation like cold water cascaded over her, rendering her form transparent. She vanished into the shadows, her heart pounding like a war drum.
The doorknob turned.
A handsome boy with jet-black hair stepped inside, his sharp gaze sweeping the small bathroom. Ethan tilted his head, his expression one of mock confusion, like a hunter puzzled by the absence of his quarry. Behind him, two grotesque, oversized heads bobbed awkwardly, their claws scraping the floor as they craned to peer at their master. The acrid stench of rust and charred wood wafted through the open door, stinging Fleur’s nostrils.
Please, please... just leave! she silently begged, her teeth clenched, her breath held.
Ethan didn’t look terrifying. With his charming features and sly smile, he could’ve been mistaken for a mischievous schoolboy. But to Fleur, in this moment, he was a nightmare given form—a marionette wielding a knife in the dead of night, his every move laced with dread.
After a few agonizing seconds, Ethan scanned the room once more, shrugged, and closed the door behind him.
Pat-pat, pat-pat...
The sound of his footsteps faded, and the oppressive scent dissipated. The massive eyeball outside the window swiveled away, its gaze shifting to another part of the mansion.
Fleur exhaled, her body sagging as if the strings holding her upright had been cut. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but a shaky smile tugged at her lips. The Disillusionment Charm flickered and faded, revealing her once more. She’d done it—she’d survived.
Biting her lip, she fought to contain the wild joy surging within her. Determination gleamed in her eyes. She was so close to claiming the Portkey, the key to advancing in this twisted game. Though Ethan had crafted the rules of this battle royale himself, Fleur had an unshakable feeling he’d honor them. If she could last the full thirty minutes, he’d hand over the Portkey and let her pass.
With a flick of her wand, golden dust swirled in the air, forming a shimmering clock. Less than three minutes remained.
"Yes!" Fleur whispered, clenching her fists and waving them in quiet triumph. She was going to rank higher than she’d dared hope—maybe even in the top five!
As long as she could hold out.
"Ugh, this curse is hideous," she muttered, glancing at the angry red rash creeping across her fair arm. She frowned, scratching at the irritated skin, leaving faint red streaks. The itch was maddening. When this was over, she’d soak in a hot spring for days.
What was Ethan Vincent? How could a first-year wield such terrifying magic? Fleur had only read about spells like his in ancient texts, relics of a golden age of magic thousands of years ago. Few wizards today dared to dabble in such complex, forbidden arts.
"Is this Hogwarts’ new prodigy training program?" she murmured, her voice tinged with awe and unease. "It’s... unsettling. But..."
A small smile curved her lips as she considered the strange boy. "He’s intriguing. After the competition, I should definitely have a proper chat with him."
"Oh? What kind of chat are we having, Miss Fleur?"
A clear, chilling voice rang out behind her, sharp as a tolling bell.
Fleur’s body seized, her fleeting smile freezing on her face. No... impossible. How could he be behind her?
Her eyes darted to the closed door across the room. Even if Ethan were Merlin reborn, capable of Apparition in his first year, there’d be a telltale crack. But there’d been no sound—nothing at all.
Her body trembled as if she stood naked on an icy tundra, paralyzed by fear. She couldn’t even turn to look.
Outside, the night sky glowed an ominous red. The massive eyeball swiveled back toward her, its gaze narrowing. Just as the crimson light threatened to engulf her, its pupil snapped shut, like a door slamming closed.
A cold hand brushed her trembling shoulder.
"Miss Fleur, Ethan is here," the voice purred, laced with sinister glee.
Fleur let out a stifled whimper, her resolve crumbling. But she gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay upright. Taking a shuddering breath, she spun around, her eyes blazing with defiance.
She met Ethan’s cobalt-blue eyes, sparkling with amusement. No horrors awaited her—just a handsome boy with a wicked grin, standing before an open portal that shimmered in the air. Frantic barking echoed from the other side, a strange counterpoint to the tension.
Fleur’s racing heart calmed slightly. So, it was another of Ethan’s impossible spells—something even smoother and quieter than Apparition. Truly extraordinary.
"Ta-da! Caught you, Miss Fleur," Ethan said, spreading his arms with theatrical flair.
He’d seen her the moment he’d entered the bathroom. Her Disillusionment Charm, weakened by her panic, had been laughably transparent. A careful glance revealed the faint outline of her form. But for the sake of drama—and a good laugh—Ethan had chosen to play along, slipping through a portal he’d conjured the moment his eyeball had spotted her.
In truth, Fleur never had a chance.
Ethan studied her stunned expression, barely containing his laughter. Oh, she’s completely gobsmacked. My little performance must’ve left quite the mark.
He glanced at the golden dust clock and sighed with mock regret. "Oh dear, less than a minute left. Such a shame. Better luck next time!"
Fleur’s lips tightened, her eyes flashing with frustration. In a bold move, she grabbed his sleeve, her voice stiff but pleading. "Can’t... can’t you make an exception?"
Ethan tilted his head, her tear-streaked face reflecting in his eyes like the Mirror of Erised, radiating a desperate, enchanting beauty. For a moment, he seemed to consider it.
But then, with a pop, an Auror appeared, whisking Fleur away via Apparition back to the starting point. She joined the other defeated competitors, their faces a mix of exhaustion and disappointment.
"Are you alright? Any injuries?" the Auror asked, concern in his voice as he studied Fleur, who stood silently, head bowed, biting her lip.
Her composure shattered. Tears spilled over, and she collapsed to the ground, pounding the floor in a mix of fury and humiliation. "Idiot! Fool! Four-legged Flobberworm!" she wailed, heedless of the startled looks around her. "Go enjoy your stupid trophy! Waaah!"
What stung most wasn’t the loss—it was the indignity. Why had that smug Slytherin girl been allowed to stay? Why not her? Wasn’t she far more captivating?
"Waaah... I want to go home! I’ll send that wretched boy a hundred Howlers, bury him in them!" she sobbed, her voice raw with frustration.
【Your artwork left an incredibly deep impression on everyone! You perfectly conducted an interactive exhibition!】 【Soul fusion increased!】 【39% -> 44%!】
