In the final days of the month, Ethan struggled to restrain his surging magic, fighting to control a power that remained too imnse for him.
Finally, after enduring Snape's glare on Friday, he skipped his Saturday Potions tutoring session.
He spent all day practicing at Hagrid's hut, finally achieving basic control.
He also gained control over his ability to see soul fragnts, gauging his progress by whether he could still spot the extra piece of soul inside Harry.
Sure enough, once he could no longer see the soul in Harry, he also stopped seeing Voldemort's soul fragnt whenever he looked at Quirrell in the Great Hall.
"Whew. Finally back to normal," he said, saying goodbye to Hodge that evening and returning to the castle feeling relaxed.
He didn't skip Sunday spell practice either. After all, his magical control still wasn't perfect, and occasional lapses could trigger another incident like the one in Charms class, so practice remained essential.
Harry and Ron watched Ethan cast spells for the first ti since his second magical outburst.
Both boys were stunned.
"This is what a first-year can cast?" Harry said to the equally shocked Ron, looking at the dark clouds filling the sky.
The red-haired boy swallowed hard.
Large snowflakes began to fall, making the cold air even more biting.
On the weekend a month before Easter, Ron and Harry were absent from the group's spell practice.
Only Hermione and Ethan practiced spellcasting outside Hagrid's hut, targeting empty patches of ground and surrounding objects. Ethan's control had returned.
Now he was casting spells at reduced power.
Hermione hesitated, then finally ntioned the recent Quidditch match.
Because it was between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, Ethan hadn't bothered to go yesterday.
"Was it exciting?" Ethan asked.
He couldn't figure out why Hermione had suddenly brought it up. He wasn't particularly interested in Quidditch, and with Slytherin not playing, he didn't care who won.
"It was exciting. Snape was refereeing, and he clearly favored Hufflepuff, but Harry caught the Snitch almost imdiately. The whole thing lasted about five minutes." Hermione seed to be hinting at sothing.
"Typical. Professor Snape has it in for Harry. It makes sense that he'd favor Hufflepuff." Ethan missed her implication, assuming she was still trying to convince him that Snape ant to hurt Harry.
He didn't want to pursue the topic, so he changed the subject, steering clear of anything involving Snape.
But that wasn't what Hermione had wanted to discuss.
Yesterday, Harry had told her and Ron that he'd seen Snape threatening Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest, saying things like, "You don't want to be my enemy."
Harry had urged her, "Hermione, don't tell Ethan about this. I'm worried he'll go straight to Snape."
Hermione felt Harry was insulting Ethan's character. "He's not that kind of person!"
Ron threw in his two cents. "Who knows what those Slytherin bastards are capable of? Even if he's an oddball, can you guarantee he won't tell Snape?"
"You!" Hermione glared at Ron.
"Hermione, please don't tell Ethan. Even though I trust he wouldn't, what if he did report us? Everything would be ruined."
"We need to help protect the Philosopher's Stone." Though Harry claid to trust Ethan, his voice was full of doubt.
Hermione was at a loss. Snape's behavior was indeed suspicious.
After the Thestral incident on the way back to school, she truly understood that appearances could be deceiving.
In fact, when they changed the subject, Ethan could tell Hermione was hiding sothing from him; she wanted to speak but held back out of concern.
Ethan didn't mind much. He figured it was just sothing related to the conflict between Snape and Harry.
Tuesday arrived. Now that he had resolved his vision problems, Ethan stayed after class to catch up on the material he'd missed the previous week, planning to use his lunch break to ask questions.
Ethan rarely sat close to Quirrell in class now, so it was only after class that he caught a faint, foul odor coming from Quirrell, so faint he would have missed it if he hadn't been paying attention.
His improved complexion made Ethan instantly realize that Quirrell must have consud unicorn blood and was suffering its curse.
He studied Quirrell's face closely and saw that his complexion was indeed much improved compared to the pallor of previous days, though his eyes seed different, cloudier than before.
"My ti is running out, Ethan. Are you willing to truly learn from ?"
"Hmm? The term is almost over. According to the older students, the professor for this course changes every year. Is that what you an, Professor Quirrell?"
"And aren't I already learning from you?"
Possibly acting on Voldemort's orders, Quirrell wasn't stuttering at all.
Ethan felt a jolt of alarm and tried to steer the conversation back to safer ground.
"Ethan, you're a smart boy. You know that what I'm teaching you now is just book knowledge plus a few of my own insights. Don't you want to learn sothing more interesting?"
"You're naturally suited for the Dark Arts. Your talent in this area is exceptional."
"P-Professor, I'm a bit scared."
With Voldemort dropping the act, Ethan began to worry about his safety.
"Rest assured, I won't harm you. Dumbledore is watching . He won't let do anything out of line at school."
This wasn't Quirrell's tone or deanor. It was Voldemort at the back of his head, speaking through him sohow.
Ethan's blood ran cold.
"Wh-what are you saying, Professor? I don't understand," he stamred.
Quirrell's face broke into a knowing smile. "Don't understand? No matter. I recall you don't have class on Wednesday night, correct? Co to my office. It's ti to teach you sothing real."
"O-oh, okay." Ethan's heart rate spiked to 180.
"Don't waste your natural abilities." Ethan turned to leave, but Voldemort's voice ca from behind him.
"Yes." He didn't dare turn around, afraid his expression would reveal his panic.
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