The next morning, Ethan woke up on the Headmaster's sofa, his back stiff and sore.
"Is this the Headmaster's office? I fell asleep here last night?" He looked around, scratching his head as the previous night's events ca back to him.
He'd been too tired to check his magic level before falling asleep.
"Headmaster! Headmaster Dumbledore! Are you there?" he called toward the closed bedroom door.
"Yes, yes, what is it?" Dumbledore said as he opened the door, still in his pajamas.
"Headmaster, what level did I reach last night?"
"Not bad, fifth-year student level." Dumbledore gave a thumbs-up.
"All right, now that you're awake, get going. Don't be late for class. I'll have the house-elf deliver your bed to the dormitory."
He spoke into the empty air. "Dobby, deliver a bed to Ethan's dormitory."
"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore." Dobby's voice drifted from nowhere.
Ethan glanced at the clock on the wall before excusing himself.
It was still early, so he went to the Great Hall for breakfast before returning to his dormitory to survey the damage.
The bed's been delivered. My trunk was reduced to ashes, but fortunately I had a spare in the wardrobe. A few clothes in the trunk were burned, but that's manageable.
After checking everything, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He organized the books on his shelf, mainly sorting through the notes and Dark Arts manuscripts mixed in with them to make sure nothing was missing.
His three roommates refrained from asking what had happened last night, but after discussing it themselves, they had more or less figured it out.
Apparently Draco had instructed them, since Goyle and Crabbe acted normally, which relieved Ethan.
After so tidying, they left for class together.
After Ethan left, Dumbledore wrote to Cyril, detailing the previous night's events to be delivered by owl to Shafiq Manor, where Cyril currently lived.
Ethan's classes didn't go well today. Likely because of last night's outburst, the spells he cast had suddenly beco more powerful and difficult to control.
During Charms class, Ethan lost control when his magic suddenly surged while casting the advanced version of Lumos, Lux Maxima. A beam as thick as his thigh shot from the tip of his wand, temporarily blinding several classmates.
The classroom erupted in screams. The Slytherin students, their eyes red and faces covered, lined up after class to visit Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing.
Ethan was deeply apologetic. During the afternoon Transfiguration class, he was extrely careful in controlling his magic and managed to avoid any further incidents.
During Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ethan didn't volunteer to stay after class, and Quirrell didn't ask him to.
The reason Ethan hadn't stayed was simple: he was afraid of giving himself away. Earlier, he'd only seen Voldemort's soul fragnt faintly and intermittently, but after the outburst, he could see it constantly.
He didn't dare stay, afraid that if he were alone with Quirrell, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from constantly glancing at the back of the man's head.
This is terrifying. I need to find a way to turn this ability off, or how am I supposed to get through classes?
After a full day of classes, Ethan lay in bed, lost in thought, unable to fall asleep for a long ti.
anwhile, Dumbledore received Cyril's reply much sooner than expected.
I'm in Hogsade. Co to the Three Broomsticks.
The handwriting on the owl-delivered note was hurried and ssy.
"You an you rushed here as soon as you got the ssage? My owl hasn't even returned yet." At the Three Broomsticks, after casting Muffliato, Dumbledore looked surprised at the wizard, who couldn't contain his excitent.
"Never mind that. First, tell what happened last night." Cyril's face flushed with excitent.
Dumbledore recounted what he'd heard from Snape, repeating verbatim what he'd written in his letter.
"Wonderful, absolutely wonderful! I never imagined this child, raised outside the family, would possess such talent!"
"Cyril, can you tell what's going on? I've never heard of anyone having a second magic surge."
Dumbledore was deeply curious. Judging by Cyril's expression, this might be a Shafiq family secret, but his curiosity got the better of him.
Cyril hesitated. Since Dumbledore already knew about Ethan's magic surge, Cyril finally decided to share what he knew:
"In the Shafiq family, while not everyone experiences a second magic surge, it's not uncommon.
"Take , for example. I had mine as an adult. My magical reserves exceed those of other wizards, so my spells are more powerful.
"Ethan's parents were able to fend off so many wizards despite being outnumbered because they also had experienced a second magic surge, relying on their enhanced reserves and defensive spells."
This...
Dumbledore was stunned. He never imagined that sothing as rare as a second magic surge, so rare that he'd never heard of it, was actually common among most mbers of the Shafiq family.
Cyril cautioned, "Don't spread this. Keep it to yourself. I didn't expect his talent to be this great after his second surge in his second year. I need to hurry and persuade his adoptive parents to let him stay with for a while."
Cyril left in a hurry, leaving Dumbledore alone at the table. Slowly sipping his butterbeer, he pondered whether the mysterious Shafiq family still held more secrets hidden in the shadows.
After finishing his drink, Dumbledore stood up to pay and noticed several empty cups before him. He blinked, slightly stunned. "Wait, that old rascal left without paying!"
Back in his office, Dumbledore pulled out the list of Shafiq family mbers who had attended Hogwarts through the generations. He compared them one by one with those he rembered eting, hoping to uncover more secrets.
Based on the information from the Pensieve, he made a new discovery:
"mbers of the Shafiq family possess exceptional talent for fire magic and greater skill in the Dark Arts than most. It seems this is also a bloodline inheritance.
"So Ethan must also have great talent for fire magic and the Dark Arts. No wonder he's connected to Quirrell," Dumbledore mused.
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