The cold wind of the North Sea whipped through Ethan's hair, carrying the metallic tang of blood and the scorched-earth smell of Dark Magic. High above, the Dark Mark pulsed a sickly emerald green, casting a ghoulish light over the stone battlements of the Astronomy Tower.
Dumbledore was slumped against the ramparts, his face a pale mask of exhaustion and pain, his wand hand blackened and shriveled like a piece of charcoal. Draco Malfoy stood trembling before him, his wand shaking so violently it was a wonder he hadn't dropped it. Behind him, the Carrows and Fenrir Greyback were snarling like rabid dogs, waiting for the kill.
"Severus... please..." Dumbledore's voice was a ragged whisper.
Snape stepped forward, his face a cold, unreadable void. He raised his wand, the words of the killing curse already forming behind his teeth.
"Sorry, fellas," Ethan said, stepping out of the swirling shadows of the staircase. "This tower is closed for maintenance. And the view? Overrated."
The reaction was instantaneous. Draco nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning around. Amycus Carrow let out a confused grunt, and Snape's wand flicked toward the newcomer with the speed of a viper.
"Who are you?" Alecto Carrow shrieked, her eyes darting over Ethan's leather jacket and jeans. "Another of the old man's pets?"
"I'm the guy who's about to make your night very, very short," Ethan replied.
"Kill him!" Amycus roared, slashing his wand through the air. "Crucio!"
The red bolt of the Unforgivable Curse tore through the air. Ethan didn't even flinch. He didn't pull out a wand. He simply raised his left hand, and a glowing orange Tao Mandala flared into existence. The red light of the curse hit the geometric shield and shattered into harmless sparks, the mystical energy of Kamar-Taj easily absorbing the malice of the spell.
The Death Eaters froze. In their world, you blocked spells with other spells or physical objects. You didn't just hold up a glowing shield of light with your bare hands.
"My turn," Ethan smirked. He snapped his fingers. "Expulso."
The air in front of the Carrows detonated. The shockwave sent the siblings flying backward, slamming them into the stone walls with enough force to crack bone. They slumped to the floor, unconscious before they even hit the ground.
Ethan turned his attention to Snape, who was watching him with a mixture of shock and calculating intensity.
"Severus, put the wand down," Ethan said, his voice dropping the sarcasm. "You've already done enough. The boy is safe, and you've played your part. It's enough for you to gain that guy's trust... so why don't you be on your way?"
Snape's eyes narrowed into slits. He looked at the unconscious Carrows, then at the glowing shield in Ethan's hand. He was a master of Legilimency, but Ethan's mind was a fortress he couldn't even scratch.
"Who are you?" Snape asked, his voice a low hiss.
"Does it really matter right now?" Ethan countered. "Are you sure you want to find out if you can defeat me before the other professors get here? Because once they arrive, your exit strategy gets a lot more complicated."
Snape stayed silent for a heartbeat. He was a pragmatist. He saw an unknown variable that handled Death Eaters like children. If he stayed and fought, the plan to protect Draco and escape would fail. With a final, lingering look at Dumbledore, Snape grabbed the terrified Draco by the collar and Apparated away in a swirl of black robes.
"Smart guy," Ethan mumbled.
Dumbledore let out a weak, rattling breath, his blue eyes peering over his half-moon spectacles at Ethan. For the first time in his long life, Albus Dumbledore looked genuinely baffled. His perfectly laid-out plan—to die by Snape's hand, to spare Draco's soul, and to ensure the Elder Wand's power died with him—had just been dismantled by a man who looked like he belonged in a Muggle rock band.
"Dumbledore... you might be confused, but I can't have you sacrificing yourself just yet," Ethan said, walking toward him.
Fenrir Greyback, seeing an opening, lunged forward with a guttural roar, his yellow claws extended. He didn't use magic; he used teeth.
Ethan didn't even look at him. He simply flicked his wrist. An Eldritch Whip of crackling orange energy lashed out, wrapping around the werewolf's throat and slamming him over the side of the tower. Greyback's scream faded into the distance as he plummeted toward the Forbidden Forest.
Ethan knelt beside Dumbledore and grabbed the headmaster's blackened, cursed hand.
"The ring," Ethan muttered, sensing the Horcrux's lingering rot. "You really couldn't resist a family reunion, could you?"
"It was... a moment of weakness," Dumbledore whispered, his strength fading.
"It's your lucky day, Albus."
Ethan internally pulled up the System window. "System, I need a fix for this. Now. No more 'rare materials'—give me something that actually works."
[ Item Suggestion: Phoenix Rebirth Elixir (High-Grade Consumable) ] Cost: 5,000 System Points. Description: A concentrated essence of Phoenix tears and Solar fire. Capable of purging any level of necrotizing curse and restoring vitality.
Ethan winced at the price. Five thousand points was a massive chunk of his balance, but if Dumbledore died, his "100% Synchronization" reward would likely vanish with him.
"Buy it. Just... do it," Ethan hissed.
A small crystal vial filled with glowing, molten-gold liquid appeared in his hand. He uncorked it and pressed it to Dumbledore's lips. "Drink. It's better than whatever Slughorn is brewing."
As the liquid went down, Dumbledore's body jerked. The black rot on his hand began to smoke, the dark energy hissing as it was forcibly purged by the golden light. The shriveled skin smoothed out, color returning to the dead flesh.
Dumbledore had intended to die because the curse was untreatable, and his death served his long-term goals. He wanted Snape to kill him to spare Draco the trauma and to ensure Voldemort never truly mastered the Elder Wand. But as the warmth of the elixir flooded his veins, the old wizard felt a surge of life he hadn't known in years.
"You've made things... very complicated, young man," Dumbledore said, his voice regaining its usual melodic strength as he sat up.
"I get that a lot," Ethan grinned, standing up and offering the Headmaster a hand. "But don't worry. I'm great at cleaning up messes."
Author's Note:
Want to read advanced chapter subscribe to my patreon.
👉 patreon.com/evilUchiha