Chapter 65: Christmas Approaching
Harry quickly noticed Ron sulking, but felt helpless to stop it.
Ron, he sighed inwardly.
His roommate was sensitive, his low self-esteem stemming from his family's poverty and his large size, so he often took offense at minor things.
Even though Harry hated Malfoy and the others and believed there were few good people in Slytherin, he was still more rational than Ron. He wouldn't paint them all with the same brush.
Take this situation, for example. Harry actually thought Ethan had a point, even though he himself defended Snape and didn't believe the professor was trying to harm him.
Based on gut feelings alone, the matter seemed settled. After all, both Hermione and Ron had seen Snape staring at him while chanting spells.
But Harry had to admit Ethan was right about one thing: Hermione couldn't confirm that he'd been unharmed just because she had set Snape's robes on fire.
Harry hadn't seen it with his own eyes either; he'd been flying. But given the current two-against-two split, he actually leaned more toward Ron and Hermione. After all, Ron was closer to him.
Of course, he was now trying to find evidence that Snape wanted not only to kill him but also to steal the Philosopher's Stone, which would prove Ethan wrong.
For his part, Ethan's opinion of Harry had also changed considerably.
When he'd first regained his memories, he'd thought Harry was a pathetic trouble magnet. He thought it was better to avoid him to prevent getting dragged into unnecessary danger.
But after spending time with him, Ethan found that while Harry had his flaws, his strengths were just as evident. He was honest and brave, perhaps reckless at times, but definitely friend material.
Time passed quickly despite the lingering awkwardness.
After lunch, they went their separate ways. Some headed to the library to study, while others returned to the common room to relax.
The weekend flew by, and the school week began anew.
Perhaps because his last attempt had gone relatively well, Quirrell kept Ethan behind after Defense Against the Dark Arts again.
However, emboldened by Snape's support this time, Ethan wasn't terrified like he had been during their first two encounters.
He approached Quirrell with several problems he'd run into while practicing, hoping for answers.
Some questions were simple enough, and Quirrell answered readily. Others were more difficult, and Quirrell pondered them before barely managing a response. But a few questions truly stumped him. He stammered for a moment but had nothing substantial to offer.
"These questions are, um, a bit tricky. I need some time to think. Wait until after the next class, and I'll write the answers for you." Under Ethan's gaze, Quirrell felt a twinge of embarrassment.
"Alright, let's stop here for today. Actually, I have some other questions I want to ask. We'll talk about them next class." Ethan shrugged helplessly.
"Ask all your questions. Ask all of them. I'll answer them together next class," Quirrell pressed, frowning.
"Okay then, I'll start." Ethan rattled off a long list.
Quirrell scribbled notes with his quill. Once he'd confirmed there were no more questions, he let Ethan go.
The next week, when Ethan met with Quirrell again, the professor was completely different from before.
Holding a stack of prepared answers, Quirrell spoke eloquently, clearly addressing each question Ethan had raised, one by one.
Although he still stammered occasionally, he did so far less frequently, perhaps to ensure Ethan could hear him clearly.
Ethan was elated and took notes without pause.
Meeting Ethan's admiring gaze, Quirrell felt somewhat flushed. Hiding his true self behind the disguise of a stuttering eccentric, he faced nothing but contempt every day. When had anyone ever looked at him with such admiration?
Finally, Quirrell waved a hand and handed over the finished materials. "Go back and study hard."
"Professor, Professor! Is there a spell in Dark Magic that lets people fly?" Ethan seized the chance to ask the question he'd been dying to ask for ages.
"Fly?" Quirrell was stunned. He'd never seen anyone fly without a broomstick. "I'll look into the materials and get back to you next class."
"Okay, Professor! I'd better go then." From Quirrell's barely perceptible frown, Ethan knew Voldemort had given him a nudge. Presumably, his dream of flying was now assured.
Sure enough, when class ended the following week, Quirrell not only gave him the training instructions for the Flight spell but also handed him several related extension spells.
"This... this is the training method for the Flight spell I found in the book. Try it yourself first. If there's anything you don't understand, come ask me again." Obviously, Quirrell didn't understand what was written there; otherwise, he would have explained it to Ethan first. Time marched on until Christmas.
Every Tuesday at noon, Ethan consulted with Professor Quirrell about the problems he encountered while practicing the Flight spell, and Quirrell addressed them the following week.
Every Saturday, he studied Potions with Snape. He'd learned new techniques for preparing ingredients and brewing standard potions. Even conservatively, he had already surpassed the third-year level.
Sundays were for spell practice with Hermione and the others, and visits with Hagrid. Life was fulfilling.
Christmas was approaching.
The day before Christmas, the Great Hall was decorated for the season once again.
The Christmas trees Hagrid had brought were adorned with glittering icicles, and garlands of holly and mistletoe covered the walls.
Am I really leaving Hogwarts already? Just temporarily? I'm happy to see Mom and Dad, but I can't bear to leave. If only they could come to Hogwarts instead.
Yesterday, they'd received the notice banning magic use during the holidays.
That was the real reason he couldn't bear to leave.
Ethan picked at his dinner. He was going home for the holidays tomorrow, but he was already missing the freedom to cast spells.
Draco glanced at him. "I can cast spells at home without getting warnings. Pure-bloods simply have advantages that half-bloods don't."
He kept his head down and ate in silence, relieved that Ethan hadn't noticed him. After being teased by Ethan several times this term, he didn't dare show off in front of him anymore.
The last few months had taught him that if he did anything to displease Ethan, the other boy had all sorts of peculiar ways of making him uncomfortable.
But the more he feared it, the more likely it was to happen. Whether Ethan had caught him looking or not, he walked over and struck up a conversation.