Bang!
Countless fangs slammed violently against the barrier. The sheer force caused the serpentine heads to shatter instantly, dissolving into roiling, ominous black smoke. A second later, they coalesced once more.
[Hiss...]
A terrifying sound emanated from their throats as crimson tongues flicked incessantly. Their blood-red, vertical pupils stared at the group as if they were looking at a hamster ball—a ready-to-eat canned snack. They radiated a cold, bloodthirsty light.
With a single glance, Harry realized one thing clearly: these were not "creatures" that could be reasoned with.
Rustle, rustle.
The thick, muscular bodies coiled over one another, surrounding the barrier in suffocating layers. They gradually blocked out all light, leaving the group feeling as if they were submerged in a pitch-black ocean of curses. A greasy, suffocating sensation crept up their skin, like a snake slowly slithering over them.
"W-what do we do?"
Hermione glanced toward Ethan, her feet instinctively shifting a step closer to him. She wasn't truly afraid; after all, two Headmasters of Hogwarts were present. If an assassination could actually succeed here, she'd go be "Hagrid the Great's" assistant for an entire year.
However, before Hermione could move another inch, a tall, slender figure suddenly cut her off.
It was Miss Gemma Farley!
The distinguished Slytherin graduate seemed determined to uphold her house traditions to the very end. She cast a cold, sideways glance at Hermione with her upturned eyes. Then, leaning in at a distance that completely disregarded social etiquette, she whispered darkly to Ethan:
"Honestly, any old stray cat or dog thinks they can just crawl over now."
Ethan, assuming she was referring to the mass of snakes, gave a distracted grunt of agreement.
Hermione, catching the acidic sarcasm: (○口○)?!!
Her mouth hung open as she stared in shock at this Slytherin who was practically glued to Ethan. In the next second, she grit her teeth, her face flushing crimson with pure rage! Her bushy hair puffed out even further, bristling from the sheer intensity of her fury.
She looked exactly like a tiny, ruffled lioness!
She swore that in her entire life, she had never met a Slytherin so haughty, so arrogant, and so utterly loathsome! Even Pansy Parkinson, after being taught a lesson by Ethan in their first year, only dared to make faces behind his back!
Ron stammered, "Blimey, these snakes are terrifying—oof!"
He was sent flying by a stray elbow from Hermione and landed hard on his backside. Dazed, he looked up at the Valkyrie-like Hermione as she marched toward the front of the barrier.
She raised her wand high and roared at the massive snake heads:
"Incendio!"
BOOM!
In an instant, a searing blaze shot forward like an arrow piercing the darkness, instantly gutting the "ocean" of curses! The flames tore through countless giant snake heads and torsos, turning them to ash amidst their hissing and writhing.
The light of the "Lamp" seemed to erupt from Hermione's eyes, which were brimming with indignation.
"Galloping Gorgons," Ron muttered, sitting dazed on the ground as the orange firelight reflected in his eyes. "A girl's jealousy is a terrifyingly hot thing..."
Harry shot a surprised look at Ron. He hadn't expected his chicken-leg-obsessed best friend to drop such a profound truth.
"Hmph, not bad."
Gemma arched an eyebrow, her skin tightening slightly from the heat of the roaring flames. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Luna, who had reacted just as quickly as Dumbledore to help construct the protective barrier.
Gemma clicked her tongue inwardly, her brow furrowing. Why are the people Ethan attracts so difficult to deal with? Though, she supposed she was no different.
Gemma drew her wand, waving it with the grace of a professional dancer. She brought forth trails of ghostly blue light; wherever the light passed, the snake bodies crumbled like sandcastles.
The three of them displayed their prowess, exerting every ounce of strength to show off.
Ron: "...So, what exactly are we here for?"
Harry: "You know how it is. Every stage needs background extras to play the role of the envious audience."
Professor Snape rolled his eyes grandly, glaring at Gemma Farley with a look of "disappointed mentor," as if watching a prize ingredient jump into the wrong potion.
Dumbledore, however, chuckled softly. "Ah, youth..."
Aside from maintaining the protective barrier, he did nothing else. He watched Ethan with keen interest, much like a cat owner wondering if their pet is about to perform a backflip.
The enemy was in the dark, and they were in the light. Faced with this sudden assault, what would Ethan do? He was truly curious.
But very quickly, Dumbledore's relaxed smile froze on his face.
He saw Ethan reach into his robes and pull out an object. In the firelight, it shimmered with a deep, ruby glow.
...Wait. That looked familiar.
Dumbledore stopped smiling. His brow furrowed as he stared intently at Ethan's fingers, trying to catch a full glimpse of the item through the gaps in his hand.
...No. It couldn't be "that."
"That" had clearly been destroyed. It was impossible for it to appear again. Then again, which period of history had Ethan actually traveled to?
In the next moment, their new "Headmaster"—the glorious Mr. Lamp—held the object aloft like a holy grail!
A drop of blood, as crystalline as a ruby, pierced Dumbledore's vision like a sharp arrow! It worked better than any binding curse, freezing Dumbledore to the spot! His eyes widened in absolute consternation!
It was the Blood Pact—the covenant between him and Grindelwald that should have been lost to history!
"No... it's impossible!!"
Dumbledore blurted out a cry of shock, his eyes bulging behind his half-moon spectacles.
Snape turned his head in surprise. He had never seen the usually unflappable Dumbledore lose his composure like this. What world-shaking thing had Ethan done now? Snape narrowed his eyes, staring at the object in Ethan's hand that pulsed with profound magical power.
Ethan, meanwhile, seemed completely oblivious to the waves of shock caused by this small vial. Clutching Old Gellert's "heart and soul," he shouted excitedly at the tide of snakes that kept regenerating:
"Go! Pichu!!"
In the next heartbeat, he threw the priceless Blood Pact forward like a grenade.
Dumbledore: ?!!
The crystalline artifact traced a beautiful arc in Dumbledore's vision before being swallowed by the cursed, evil darkness.
Ron looked confused. "Pichu? What's a Pi—wait, why can't I say the middle sound of that word?!"
A split second later—
BOOM!!!
The blackness vanished.
A literal volcanic eruption of flame instantly banished every trace of darkness within sight, filling their vision entirely with a blinding scarlet!
[Hiss—!]
The giant snakes writhed and shrieked, collapsing into nothingness within the inferno. This time, they didn't reform; they were utterly annihilated, devoured by the sea of fire.
This was several times more powerful than Hermione's Incendio. It was like a "Passage" carved through death itself.
The God of Fire clears the path!!
Everyone stood frozen. Even the stoic Gemma Farley raised her eyebrows in astonishment, her mind shaken by the sheer terror of the scene.
Everyone, that is, except Ethan.
Ethan watched the old figure step out from the barrier and into the flames. He watched as a withered hand reached out to catch the covenant that spanned time and fate.
Ethan's lips curled into a smirk.
See? The "Pichu" that always jumps out at the last second... hasn't he arrived?
Thinking he could slack off? Not on Ethan's watch.
"Heh heh heh..."
Ethan let out a classic villainous cackle.
The flames gradually died down. Light poured in from the shattered darkness, and the Headmaster's office—which looked like it had been hit by a tornado—reappeared before them.
"...We're out! We're finally out!!"
Ron collapsed to his knees, wailing with tears of gratitude. "Why is our side scarier than the Dark Arts?!"
Thank you, allies, for not killing us.jpg
Having survived the ordeal, the group breathed a collective sigh of relief. Dumbledore clutched the Blood Pact tightly, looking at Ethan, who was staring up at the ceiling.
Dumbledore opened his mouth, but after a long moment, he said nothing.
There was no need for words. After all, Merlin knows everything.
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