HP: The Wizard Who Paints with Magic

Used Painting: Broomstick Rash

Effect: Causes red rashes to appear on the contact area.

Ethan released Draco Malfoy's hand, watching with interest as horror dawned in the other boy's eyes. This was the first time he had used this painting. On Malfoy's pale palm, small, bean-sized red rashes were already appearing. One of them swelled rapidly, then popped with a wet plop, oozing a yellow and red liquid.

Though not a serious injury, the blisters were a shocking sight against his pale skin.

"Ah—ah—AHHH—!!!"

Malfoy held up his hand and let out a terrified shriek. The bustling noise of the platform instantly died down as every head turned in their direction.

"Hmm, it seems to work well." Ethan nodded in satisfaction. His other hand emerged from behind his back, holding a scarlet, card-sized painting—a miniature version of the Broomstick Rash illustration. The card had a white border, signifying its 'White Rare' grade. After a single use, the painting hadn't faded; it could be reused. Extremely convenient.

With a thought, the painting vanished from Ethan's palm, returning to his 'Gallery'.

"Without even a fusion spell, the effect is already so obvious…" Ethan murmured calmly, gazing at Malfoy's swollen hand. "If a spell were added, how much better would the effect be?"

Would it turn from a localized rash to a full-body eruption of pus-filled sores? he wondered. Sounds interesting~

A pleased smirk curved Ethan's lips.

"You—you devil! What did you do to me?!" Malfoy shrieked, his face growing even paler. "I'm going to tell my father! You're finished—"

"Oh, I didn't do anything. You can check my wand," Ethan said, raising his empty hands innocently.

"You—"

"Malfoy, do you know?" Ethan leaned close to the other boy's ear and whispered, "This is called 'Broomstick Rash'. It starts on your bottom and infects your entire body…"

"If you're not careful, your whole face might rot into the shape of a backside."

Ethan finished speaking and took two steps back, watching with satisfaction as Malfoy's expression twisted into utter terror. How could someone say such horrifying things so calmly? Malfoy's mind uncontrollably conjured the illustration he had seen in The Quibbler—the festering red rashes on pork-like skin. He couldn't help but feel an itch spread all over his body, as if the sores were already creeping up under his clothes… all the way to his face.

"Waaah—!!!"

Malfoy finally burst into tears with a wail and fled, collapsing into a run. He fled without another word, not even a parting threat.

Tsk tsk, his psychological endurance is poor. He needs more training, Ethan thought, shaking his head. To his regret, he found that his Soul Fusion had not increased. He'd have to try harder next time.

Under the stunned gazes of the surrounding crowd, Ethan casually floated his luggage with a Levitation Charm and boarded the train. Students in the aisle quickly scrambled out of his way, granting him VIP treatment.

Ah~ The life of a celebrity is just this simple and unpretentious, Ethan sighed contentedly. He watched as the students ahead of him scurried away like rabbits spotting a hawk, leaving him an entire empty compartment.

Not long after, the train gave a low, clear whistle.

"Woooo—!"

It shook twice and slowly began to move. Ethan closed his textbook and looked up, watching the parents seeing off their children outside the window, his expression calm and unwavering.

"Haah~" Ethan yawned languidly. The warm sunlight spread across his face; it was a rare sunny day in Britain. The rhythmic clanking of the train gradually made his eyelids heavy. He didn't resist the sleepiness; even the soft train seat was more comfortable than the worn-out bed in his Spinner's End hovel. With his last bit of consciousness, Ethan slapped the textbook over his face and fell into a deep sleep.

—When Harry and Ron, dragging their luggage, hurriedly pulled open the compartment door, what they saw was this very scene: a boy fast asleep, his face entirely covered by a book. They exchanged glances, carefully put away their luggage, and sat down opposite him, finally letting out a sigh of relief. They had met on the platform but had arrived too late, finding every other compartment full. They were truly lucky to have finally found an empty one.

Around half-past twelve, Ethan was woken by hunger. The scent of food wafted into his nostrils. His eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.

What met his gaze were two very familiar figures. They were ravenously devouring a mountain of snacks that covered the seat between them. The distinctive red hair and freckles, the round glasses and green eyes—Ethan recognized them instantly. Ron Weasley and the Savior, Harry Potter.

Facing these two important characters, one of whom was the protagonist, Ethan's eyes immediately curved into a smile. He began to mentally rehearse how to leave a deep and lasting impression on them. However, before he could speak, his stomach greeted them first.

"Grumble~"

Hearing the sound, Harry, who had been a bit nervous, immediately relaxed. The boy opposite him was strikingly handsome, quiet, and calm, like the private school students in exquisite uniforms Harry had seen on the street. He had felt as if they were from different worlds.

"Here, have some! Eat as much as you want!" Harry grabbed a pumpkin pasty and enthusiastically handed it over, looking at Ethan with eager eyes, a generous glow about him.

"..."

Ethan licked his lips. In the end, he didn't refuse. "Thank you," he said, a sincere smile spreading across his face. "My name is Ethan Vincent. It's nice to meet you two."

"Oh, I'm… I'm Harry Potter," Harry said quietly. He saw Ethan subtly glance at his forehead but show no other reaction, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of relief. The constant attention was unnerving, and every stare inevitably made him recall that terrifying night of flashing green light.

Ethan is truly kind and thoughtful, Harry thought, touched. He must come from a very warm family.

Ron also introduced himself and quickly began chatting animatedly with Ethan, who listened with such focus that Ron felt a sense of importance he rarely experienced at home. Although the name "Ethan Vincent" sounded a bit familiar, the thought flashed by, and Ron didn't dwell on it. In his mind, he had already accepted this cool new acquaintance.

"Guess who I saw before getting on the train?" Ron leaned forward and said mysteriously.

Ethan played along, leaning in and asking softly, "Who?"

"A crying Malfoy!" Ron said fiercely. "He's just a hateful pure-blood supremacist! Their whole family is rotten! They're always making trouble for my dad at work!"

"But I don't know who did it. Whoever made him cry his eyes out is a legend! Hahahaha! I almost missed the train just watching him make a fool of himself!"

Ron leaned back against the seat, smacking his lips in satisfaction, fantasizing about Malfoy kneeling before him while his brothers worshipped him. Hehehe~

Ethan looked at Ron's goofy, happy expression and just smiled without speaking. Harry looked from his silly new best friend to the quiet and calm Ethan and couldn't help but massage his forehead. The contrast was stark.

At that moment, a delayed thought finally occurred to Harry.

…Hmm, strange.

When we got on the train, why were all the other compartments full?

Why was this one occupied only by Ethan?

***

(End of Chapter)

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