Chapter 42

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The next time Ethan woke up, he was in the hospital wing, with Miyuki nestled comfortably on his chest. Remarkably enough, it did not hurt in the slightest, even though he was pretty sure he had gotten his chest bones at least fractured by Diego.

He then looked around, searching for any sign of anyone else, but he saw nothing. No one lying in another bed; no one sitting by his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. No flowers, no chocolates.

Ethan blinked before laying a hand on Miyuki, and he silently stroked her fur. He could see with both eyes, he realised. That was good.

Looking around, Ethan noticed a change in a nearby mirror, however. While his eye had completely healed, three long scars remained around his left eye. He tried rubbing them off; he wasn't even sure why, but sure enough, he only felt the rougher texture of the scar tissue compared to the surrounding skin. They were real.

Ethan wasn't sure what to think of it. He had thought in the past that maybe someday getting a scar would be cool, but this was a little too early for his taste. And it did not help much in making him look friendlier.

Since it was night, Ethan laid in his hospital bed a while longer, expecting either Madam Pomfrey to come in or to slip back into unconsciousness, but neither happened, so he decided he might as well get up.

As expected, Ethan did not feel any pain, despite the grievous injuries he had been sporting. Although none had been lethal, he still had quite a few broken bones, meaning Madam Pomfrey was quite the prodigious healer. That, or Ethan had been unconscious for longer than he thought.

Miyuki followed with bouncy steps, and Ethan couldn't help but think of Quirrell as he walked out of the infirmary. The Professor had died quite a tragic and painful death, and it made Ethan feel sick.

Killing another man, even if they had been turned into a vampire, wasn't a pleasant experience to begin with, but Ethan would do it again if he had to.

Quirrell wasn't just anyone, however. Although Ethan had kept some distance from the man through the year as everything pointed to him being the thief, now that he had the whole situation in mind, he couldn't help but feel bad as he finally understood why the Professor had been feeling the way he had regarding him.

Diego must have spoken extensively about Ethan to Quirrell, who had been under his compulsion, and it was clear that to the Professor, Ethan was a beacon of hope.

In the last few seconds, Ethan had had access to the deepest reaches of Quirrell's mind as he ruthlessly destroyed it, and he felt the last embers of Quirinus Quirrell, buried under the thrall. In his last moment, all Quirinus felt was pain, despair, and betrayal.

Of course, Ethan had no legal, moral, or any other kind of obligation to save him; the man had been turned into a thrall by a powerful vampire. After all, he was as good as a lost cause, but Ethan still felt bad.

Ethan was then broken out of his thoughts as he spotted a figure standing across from him. He stopped.

Albus Dumbledore and Ethan Grindelwald looked at each other, and after an initial, probing silence, Dumbledore said, "I am glad to see you have woken up. Are you feeling well?"

Ethan held eye contact with the Professor, and replied, "Much better. How is Harry?"

The question seemed to please Dumbledore, who smiled, "Good, he made a speedy recovery. He was the one to tell us what happened, although some gaps had to be filled. You made an impressive show of Transfiguration down there, although I suppose that what truly made the difference was your wit."

Looking past Dumbledore at the moving stairs, Ethan asked, "Did the news of what happened spread?"

Dumbledore sighed, turning around as he replied, "It did."

Walking next to the Headmaster, Ethan added, "And you were behind it, I trust?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I thought it was the best thing to do. Wouldn't you?"

Ethan nodded back. "The news of Quirrell's death would have spread in any case, and my absence would have been noticed. I'm not quite sure I trust Potter to hold his tongue either, so you might as well spread the true story. But I guess that wasn't enough, was it?"

Dumbledore looked genuinely sad as he replied, "Diego Basco was proven to have been killed this summer and replaced by the vampire Lord Holderbaum. Professor Quirrell's fate raised some questions, however. His physiology does not show any sign of a vampire, and he died cruelly."

Ethan frowned at this; although Dumbledore's tone wasn't accusing, he still defended himself: "But he was a vampire. A thrall who had been so thoroughly broken that he did not know how to use magic anymore."

Dumbledore nodded. "A temporary one, and quite the vicious trap from Lord Holderbaum. Although known to few, there exists a procedure involving Unicorn blood to halt the effects of vampirism on a human. Lord Holderbaum was quite an accomplished alchemist, as he somehow managed to change this ritual to turn Quirinus into a temporary vampire. Of course, I told the Aurors, but the investigation is still ongoing."

"So people think I just ravaged my Professor's mind because... he stood in my way? And that I will become the next Dark Lord?"

"More or less, yes."

Both fell silent, gazing at the moving stairs. Ethan was not sure what to say. He had spent the school year clearing his name with his fellow students, but it seemed that things had only worsened.

"I'm sorry for what happened, Ethan. We promised you we would fix the situation, but we failed."

Ethan felt a hand land on his shoulder, and although it made him feel a little uncomfortable, he did not move it as he replied half-heartedly, "It's fine, it doesn't matter."

Dumbledore's hand did not move.

"Is it?"

Ethan felt a pang of frustration rise, but he instantly suppressed it and took a step, forcing the old man's hand off his shoulder as he assured, "Yes. Magic is my calling, not people. They are free to dislike me, to hate me, to fear me."

As he walked away towards the Slytherin House, Ethan felt the Headmaster's eyes bore into his back, but he never looked back, and Dumbledore remained quiet.

After that, it did not take long for Ethan to regain the Slytherin common room, but to his surprise, as he entered, he spotted a couple sitting by the fire. One of them was Erwin Selwyn, the Seventh Year Prefect, and the other was a girl. Ethan didn't know her name, but he had the impression that she was a Fifth Year.

The two were cuddling in front of the fire, but as they spotted him, Erwin jumped off the couch, fumbling to get his wand. Ethan almost whipped out his own, but he decided against it as Erwin pointed his wand at him and exclaimed, "J-Just go! We never saw you!"

Ethan couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the panic the young adult showed towards him. Even the girl he was with was looking at him like he was a dragon on the loose.

Understanding that playing friendly, as he usually did with his fellow Slytherins, would not work, Ethan let out what he was feeling: exasperation, as he sighed and pointed at the stairs leading to the boys' dorm. "I don't care whether you saw me or not; I'm not a fugitive. I just want to go to sleep, so if you'll excuse me…"

Erwin lowered his wand uneasily, and Ethan walked past the two and got into his room. Since he knew he wouldn't find any sleep, he decided to do the one thing he found most relaxing, and that was working on his runes.

He may have finished his weapon, which had proven itself to be deadly, but that didn't mean he couldn't improve on it or create something else. He didn't think he was going to alter the dagger itself because he intended on keeping it as a memory once he outgrew it.