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HP: From Failed Art Student to Dark Artist of Hogwarts - 287
🕑 Added 2025-12-03 19:07:23 +0000 UTCChapter 287: Victory…? Ethan, Is That Chest Actually Safe?
"Whoa!"
The twins yelped, spinning a full three hundred and sixty degrees on their brooms as a spell shot past. They only just dodged it, and both of them felt a fierce sting across their backsides.
“Brilliant,” one twin wheezed. “Broom burn.”
They reached back, then thought better of it.
Down on the ground, Durmstrang’s champion, Quidditch star Viktor Krum, slowly pushed himself upright, wand glowing in his fist.
His gaze locked on the air above, sharp as a hawk’s. His face was as hard as carved stone, his whole body radiating grim authority.
"The real battle," he said, spacing each word, "begins now."
If he had not been charred from head to toe, it might have sounded quite impressive.
"Haha, the lump of coal can talk," one twin said. "How entertaining."
Harry stayed silent, letting the veteran Seeker keep the last shreds of his dignity.
Krum panted, eyes bloodshot.
He had not expected to make such a rookie mistake.
He had underestimated Ethan.
That crimson lightning clearly had some additional effect, but he pushed the thought aside.
His gaze slid to the chest in the centre of the arena.
A single ray of sunlight speared through the clouds and struck it squarely, making its surface gleam. The carved patterns and inlaid gems shone like something out of a legend.
Like treasure left behind in some hidden ruin, inviting anyone who saw it to open the lid and peer inside.
A reward for slaying the dragon, clearly.
So Ethan did have a shred of humanity.
Krum’s mouth curled. He could already taste victory.
"Sorry," he said, voice low and firm. "But with the black dragon dead, there is no further need for cooperation. I will not abandon the competition."
"The chest, and the chance to fight Ethan, are mine."
Harry and the twins: …
Lovely list of benefits. And the downside?
"He really thinks that’s just a treasure chest," one twin whispered.
"Still too young," the other murmured.
Harry nudged his glasses up, and the three of them reached a silent agreement. They gave Krum one last, pitying look, then banked their brooms and flew straight down out of the arena.
As the ones who had actually brought the dragon down, they were certain to score well enough. And they had nothing left in the tank. Better to end it here.
"Hogwarts’ three champions return safe and sound!" Lee Jordan yelled. "The only team with all members passing the task!"
Cheers erupted.
"Now the last champion on the field—Durmstrang’s star Seeker, Viktor Krum—what choice will he make?"
Krum blinked.
He had not expected the Hogwarts trio to withdraw so cleanly, like people fleeing something they did not intend to face twice.
He shook his head.
Their points were secure; there was indeed no reason for them to stay.
He wanted more than points.
He wanted a fight with Ethan, a glorious duel that would show everyone his moment of triumph.
Ethan, I will make them all witness the instant I defeat you.
But first, apparently, came opening the chest.
Krum holstered his wand and strode forward, anticipation written all over his face.
He stopped before the box with its gilt inlays and gemstones and laid a hand on it.
What would Ethan have prepared as a prize?
Perhaps a Dark artifact or two.
Click.
The chest opened.
Krum’s face relaxed into a small, easy smile.
Then—
Chomp.
A massive set of jaws snapped out like a desert sandworm springing from beneath the dunes. A ring of fangs clamped around Krum’s head and yanked him down into the "chest" in one savage pull.
"AAAAARGH?!"
His scream ripped through the suddenly silent arena.
His wand clattered away. His legs flailed wildly outside the lid.
"N-no! What is this?!"
"Get it off me! Get it off!"
His shrieks, raw with terror, echoed over the stone.
Gradually, the kicking slowed.
The audience stared, frozen.
No one knew what spectacle waited in that dark space inside the chest.
Then they looked at each other and saw the same dawning realisation.
"Called it. As if Ethan would kindly leave a prize sitting there after the dragon."
"So it’s not a treasure chest, it’s a Mimic Chest."
"Now that feels right."
On the judges’ stand, Karkaroff once again slammed the rail, purple with rage.
He yanked out his wand and rounded on the British contingent. "The task was over! Are you making fools of us?"
Bagman hunched his shoulders and sighed from the depths of his soul.
He had known the Tournament would turn into a diplomatic disaster.
"My dear friend," Dumbledore said smoothly, stroking his beard, "do try to calm down."
"Ethan did say the first task would involve dragons. He never said it would only involve dragons."
He smiled blandly into Karkaroff’s "are you having me on" glare.
"Personally, I believe this false chest is meant to teach our young witches and wizards to resist temptation. Very educational."
Karkaroff shook so hard he seemed ready to rattle apart.
The thought that there were still two more of these lunatic tasks ahead made his vision swim.
Was it too late to withdraw?
"Er—note that man’s name," Lee Jordan boomed. "Viktor Krum. He has stopped moving entirely. We can call the undertak—"
"Ten points from Gryffindor."
"Ahem! Very unfortunate. Champion Krum has failed to survive Ethan’s final trap and fallen to the Mimic Chest."
"With no champions left standing, I declare—"
"The first task of the Triwizard Tournament is complete!"
"Hogwarts wins!"
"Lee Jordan! The scores are not in yet!"
Amid the shouting and scrambling, the result finally appeared.
As expected, Hogwarts first.
Durmstrang second, Beauxbatons third.
The Hall exploded.
"Hogwarts first! Hogwarts first!"
"We did it!"
Students surged forward like a tide, hoisted their three champions up, and tossed them high. Fireworks streaked into the air and burst into the roaring shape of a lion.
Magnificent.
Exhausted as they were, Harry and the twins could not stop grinning.
Sunlight bathed their faces, warm and bright, making them squint.
Over the thunder of celebration, they shouted together:
"Morning Star Club, victory!"
"Long live Ethan!"
"Ooooooh!"
Karkaroff and Madame Maxime both looked like they'd been sucking lemons, but even they couldn't entirely suppress a flicker of respect.
Their eyes tracked the black-haired boy drifting back down to earth.
"Hmph. Impressive," they muttered.
At least in the Dark Arts, he had reached the peak.
Only Crouch frowned.
Morning Star Club.
There had been rumours lately about a secret society with a suspiciously similar name.
He sank into thought, brow furrowing.
[Congratulations. You have flawlessly completed the first task and given everyone a wonderful experience.]
[Soul attunement increased by 1.6%.]
Ethan drew a deep breath as magic surged through him like a spring bursting from the earth.
"Painting magic really does chew through power," he said under his breath. "But a one‑off gain of one point six percent attunement? Worth every drop."
He smiled, pleased.
[Lamp brightness increased.]
[A young, wandering soul is waiting for you. Enter her dream tonight and speak with her.]
A young soul?
His brows rose.
Not Harry’s mother; Lily hardly counted as "young."
So who was it?
Krum, freshly extracted from the Mimic and looking like he had been used to stir a cauldron, raised his head and rasped, "N-next time… I will defeat you, Ethan Vincent."
Issuing a challenge in that state.
He had spirit.
Ethan nodded, then took a closer look at him and added kindly, "Be sure to tell the healer to clear out the Deathcurse from your body."
"Deathcurse?" Krum blinked. "What is that?"
"Nothing much," Ethan said with a laugh. "If you get hit by that red lightning a few times, your body just gets weaker; that is all."
Krum sagged in relief.
Ethan considered, then smiled his most innocent smile.
"In your case, it is a bit more serious, though. Nothing major. It will simply do wonders for your stomach."
