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[HP:Failed Art Student]-Chapter 24: Forget Spells-My Fist Works Better
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 12:03:14 +0000 UTCA Golden Legend!
Ethan Vincent’s pupils dilated slightly, a faint golden glow shimmering in his vision, radiating from the edges of the painting.
Paintings at Hogwarts were ranked into four tiers: White Rare, Blue Precious(Rare), Golden Legend, and Purple Epic.
Crafted with delicate yet durable canvas and vibrant mixed pigments, the artwork was imbued with the magic of the Unlocking Charm and the Portkey spell.
With each careful stroke, Ethan wove his magic into the canvas.
And so, he created his first 【Golden Legend】.
It was the highest-grade card in his possession to date.
【Name: The Portal】
【Type: Item】
【Grade: Tier 1 · Golden Legend】
【Description: "The cake is a lie."】
【Effect: ① When placed on any object, it creates a passage through that object. The penetration strength depends on the user’s magical power and can be used repeatedly;】
【② The painting has two sides, A and B. Objects enter through side A and exit from side B. Entry and exit points can be set anywhere within a 30-meter radius. Objects entering side A will emerge from side B.】
【Note: When setting sides A and B, both must be within the user’s line of sight; only one of the two effects can be active at a time.】
【Evaluation: A true portal, perhaps ultimately leading to the other side of life.】
“Wow…”
Ethan studied the card’s description, a grin spreading across his face as he let out a low whistle of awe.
He could open doors without limit.
As long as his magic held strong, he could bypass even the most formidable barriers—not just the Ravenclaw common room door but perhaps even the goblin-guarded vaults of Gringotts!
A sudden realization hit him.
With this card, he wouldn’t need to face Fluffy, the three-headed dog, or navigate the chaotic gauntlet of traps to reach the Philosopher’s Stone.
He could simply open a portal in the floor and drop straight down.
And then there was another thought.
A delightfully wicked idea sparked in his mind.
The card allowed portals to be opened on any object.
But what about objects that weren’t… inorganic?
He’d have to test that later.
For now, Ethan turned his attention to the card’s second effect—
“The Portal.”
It could teleport objects freely within a certain range.
Ethan’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he glanced at his two roommates standing nearby.
He flashed a grin.
Michael Corner blinked, confused. “???”
Ethan’s smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. ^▽^
“Wait, wait, Ethan! A person cannot, at least should not—ah!”
Michael’s words cut off as he stepped into thin air, as if the ground beneath him had vanished like a trapdoor on a smooth lawn.
Darkness swallowed him as he plummeted.
But in the next instant, light flooded back, and Michael tumbled onto the soft grass, landing with a thud from above.
“Wh-what the heck…?”
Dizzy from the fall, Michael struggled to make sense of what had just happened.
He looked up and saw Anthony Goldstein standing nearby, eyes wide with shock.
What in Merlin’s name had just occurred?!
Anthony was equally stunned.
It had all happened in a flash.
Ethan hadn’t even raised his wand, yet two rectangular frames had materialized—one on the ground, the other hovering in mid-air.
Michael had fallen through the ground frame and come tumbling out of the one in the air.
It was… it was like a short-range Apparition.
But Apparition couldn’t transport someone else without physical contact.
Anthony’s gaze darted to the easel where Ethan’s painting had been moments ago. The canvas was gone, replaced by a golden card glowing faintly in Ethan’s hand.
Could this be an entirely new magical system, one that didn’t rely on wands?
Anthony’s Ravenclaw curiosity sparked, his eyes gleaming with fascination.
This was beyond incredible.
As a Ravenclaw who lived for knowledge, he felt that not only was the card in Ethan’s hand glowing—
Ethan himself was practically radiating brilliance!
Casting spells through paintings? Unheard of.
This was, without a doubt, the most revolutionary magical discovery of the century!
But before Anthony could voice his awe, his pupils constricted, and he shouted, “Watch out!”
Whoosh!
A gust of wind whipped past.
Ethan squinted, his dark hair fluttering as grass and dust swirled across his face.
He glanced up to see Harry Potter soaring overhead on a broomstick, clutching a transparent orb in his hand.
“S-sorry, Ethan!” Harry called out, breathless, his voice brimming with excitement. “Malfoy snatched Neville’s Remembrall and threw it right at you!”
Oh, that plot point.
Ethan nodded to himself, recognizing the moment.
This was when Harry’s talent as a Seeker was discovered, kicking off Gryffindor’s dominance in Quidditch.
Though he knew the story well, Ethan had figured it had little to do with him.
He’d even sat farther away to avoid getting caught up in it.
Yet, somehow, the blasted Remembrall had still found its way to him.
Ethan stood, his hand casually resting on the wand tucked into his robes.
He turned to see Draco Malfoy striding across the lawn, flanked by a gaggle of Slytherin students, their smug expressions hinting at more than just a mission to retrieve the orb.
Harry’s grin faded as he lowered his broom, eyeing Malfoy warily.
Anthony, Ron, and a cluster of Gryffindor students hurried over, rallying around Ethan.
Even Michael, still dazed from his fall, scrambled to his feet, gripping his wand tightly and taking a stand at the front.
In mere moments, the scene was set.
Red and blue robes faced off against dark green, the young wizards poised as if awaiting a signal to charge.
Ethan twirled the golden card between his fingers, his cobalt blue eyes catching the reflection of Malfoy’s pale, sneering face.
“Go, Draco, you’ll wipe the floor with him,” Pansy Parkinson whispered, nudging Malfoy’s arm.
“…Vin, cough.”
Malfoy faltered, a faint flush creeping up his cheeks.
Steeling himself, he met Ethan’s mocking gaze and declared, as firmly as he could muster, “Vincent, I challenge you to a formal duel.”
“Oh?” Ethan arched an eyebrow.
Not running away, but coming closer? Bold move.
“Very well, Mr. Malfoy. I accept your challenge,” Ethan replied smoothly, then turned to his friends. “My second… Harry, would you do me the honor of being my dueling second?”
Caught off guard but unwavering, Harry nodded. Even if Ethan had asked him to storm the gates of Azkaban, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Ethan had helped him countless times, and the chance to take a shot at Malfoy? Harry was all in.
“Hmph. Crabbe, then,” Malfoy said, surprised that Ethan knew proper dueling protocol.
This Mudblood wasn’t as clueless as he’d thought…
But it didn’t matter.
His father had warned him: today, he had to defend the honor of the Malfoy family in front of everyone.
Failure meant no Christmas at home.
How humiliating.
Malfoy shuddered at the thought.
No matter. He glanced at Ethan, standing a dozen meters away.
At this distance, Ethan couldn’t use that cursed magic of his.
Malfoy vividly remembered shaking Ethan’s hand and breaking out in a rash afterward.
Keep his distance, and he’d be untouchable.
Besides, his father had taught him a few “harmless” hexes—more than enough to handle a peer, even one like Ethan.
And that wasn’t all.
Malfoy stole a quick glance at his cronies behind him.
If they found an opening, they’d back him up with a few spells.
Knock Ethan off his feet, and who cared about the rules?
Malfoy had planned this duel meticulously.
As long as he wasn’t taken out in the first second, victory was his.
He would win.
“We bow first,” Ethan said with a smile, raising his wand and offering an elegant, measured bow.
Harry suddenly noticed something odd—Ethan was holding his wand in his left hand.
Was Ethan left-handed? Harry didn’t recall…
Malfoy, too focused to notice, gave a curt nod and barked, “Three, two, one, Locomotor Mortis—!”
Bang!
It happened in an instant.
A heavy thud echoed across the lawn.
Malfoy, mid-incantation, was sent flying.
He crashed onto the grass, flailing weakly but unable to rise.
Blood trickled from his nose, and the left side of his face swelled like a puffed-up pastry.
He wailed miserably, sprawled on the ground.
Malfoy, down for the count!
The onlookers—Slytherins included—stood frozen, jaws dropped.
What had just happened?!
It was over already?!
Their eyes locked onto the spot where Malfoy had stood.
A fist hovered in mid-air, protruding from a strange rectangular frame.
On the other side, Ethan’s arm was half-submerged in an identical frame.
【Painting · The Portal has been used!】
Ethan glanced at his fist, now back by his side, and gave it a casual shake. No sense of disconnection, no odd sensation.
The mechanics were simple.
He’d set the portal’s entrance next to himself and slipped his arm through.
The exit? Placed right beside Malfoy’s face.
Whatever entered the entrance—position, motion, everything—was perfectly replicated at the exit.
So, even standing still, Ethan’s punch had landed squarely on Malfoy’s face from a dozen meters away.
In the stunned silence, Ethan’s gaze flicked to Crabbe—Malfoy’s dumbfounded second.
He offered a warm, almost too-friendly smile.
“Your turn.”
—Magic, isn’t it wonderful?
