New Semester Begins

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Ethan's decision to relinquish power was not made lightly—it resulted from serious contemplation.

People were willing to follow his leadership during times of crisis, such as the recent turmoil within the Ministry of Magic.

However, the political landscape had shifted with the Death Eaters now arrested and the external pressure alleviated.

At this point, retaining a firm grip on the Auror team would only breed resentment and unease among others, making him a perceived threat rather than a unifying force.

Moreover, there was little to gain from holding onto the Aurors. Instead, stepping back gracefully would earn him goodwill and ensure smoother cooperation in the future.

The Ministry of Magic was bound to experience further unrest in the coming weeks.

Voldemort's return had sent shockwaves through the wizarding world, and Aurors were stretched thin, working tirelessly to maintain order.

But Ethan had no longer intended to expend his energy on this front.

After finalizing the necessary paperwork, he prepared to leave the Ministry. Normally, he would have reported to Fudge, but the Minister's whereabouts were unknown.

With no other option, Ethan returned to Hogwarts.

After all, he had another important role—professor at the renowned school of witchcraft and wizardry.

Using the Ministry's Floo Network, he quickly arrived at Hogwarts.

The new school year was set to begin the next day, and soon, students would be arriving aboard the Hogwarts Express, ready to embark on another term.

Once back at the castle, Ethan requested dinner from a house elf and ate heartily, savoring the simple comforts of the meal.

Afterward, he retired for the night, preparing himself for the challenges of the academic year ahead.

But while Hogwarts remained a place of relative peace, the same could not be said for a certain dark cavern in Albania.

Deep within the cave's shadows, Voldemort lay on an old, tattered sofa, his infant-like body grotesque and frail.

His thin, skeletal fingers clutched a newspaper, and his slitted eyes scanned the pages with piercing intensity.

A group of black-robed Death Eaters stood before him, trembling under his silent scrutiny.

"Lucius… has betrayed us," Voldemort murmured, his voice chilling and serpentine, sending a wave of dread through the gathered followers.

The air in the cave grew heavy, thick with unspoken fear.

The Death Eaters flinched, knowing all too well the price of disloyalty.

"That spineless coward," Voldemort spat, his voice rising into a venomous hiss.

"A dog without a backbone! Just like the rest of you!"

At his feet, Nagini stirred, lifting her massive head. Her forked tongue flicked as if she tasted the fear that permeated the room.

The serpent's unblinking eyes fixed on the assembled wizards, ready to strike at her master's command.

Voldemort's words slithered through the cavern like a curse.

"Master! We have always been loyal to you!" Alecto Carrow stammered, her voice quivering with desperation.

"We would never betray you!"

Voldemort sneered. "Lucius betrayed me out of fear. You obey me out of fear. That kind of loyalty is worthless."

Silence fell. The Death Eaters lowered their heads, resigned to their fate, certain Voldemort would slaughter them in a fit of wrath.

But death did not come.

Instead, Voldemort's tone shifted, cold and calculating.

"I do not mistreat those who serve me, regardless of their reasons."

His crimson eyes gleamed with sinister intent.

"When I reclaim the Ministry of Magic and seize what is rightfully mine, I will ensure that Lucius suffers in ways beyond imagination. And when his screams fade, the wealth of the Malfoy family will belong to those who have stood before me today."

A hushed gasp rippled through the Death Eaters. Fear was swiftly replaced by greed.

The Malfoys had spent centuries amassing their fortune. The mere thought of mountains of Galleons piled at their feet made their breath quicken with anticipation.

Voldemort watched them closely, a cruel smirk curling his lips.

Fear controlled them. But greed? Greed would make them unstoppable.

Voldemort had always been a master manipulator, reveling in playing with people's fears and expectations.

And finally, the next day arrived.

Across the wizarding world, conversations centered on one chilling topic—Voldemort's supposed demise.

Every whispered exchange carried an undertone of fear and uncertainty. No one truly believed the dark days were over. If anything, a lingering dread suggested that worse was yet to come.

A new wave of panic soon swept through the British wizarding community as people began noticing the unexplained disappearances of colleagues, neighbors, and acquaintances. Speculation ran rampant, with three dominant theories emerging:

Voldemort had abducted them, and the Ministry of Magic had secretly arrested them. After learning Voldemort was still alive, they voluntarily sought out the Death Eaters.

The Ministry of Magic quickly issued a public denial, insisting that no secret arrests had been made and that an investigation was underway.

But despite their assurances, the rumors only grew wilder. Some even suggested that the American Ministry of Magic had begun kidnapping British wizards for reasons unknown.

For Ethan, however, none of this mattered. Having distanced himself from the chaos just in time, he remained unaffected by the turmoil gripping the Ministry.

While Aurors scrambled to manage the crisis, Ethan had just woken from a restful sleep.

By now, the students had returned to Hogwarts, and even within the castle's ancient walls, the tension from the outside world had seeped in.

Groups of students gathered in hushed circles, anxiously discussing the terrifying news of Voldemort's return.

Despite the somber mood, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found some relief. They had grown tired of Hogwarts feeling empty, and now that their classmates had finally returned, they eagerly reunited with their friends, savoring the chance to chat and catch up.

Soon, it was time for the highly anticipated annual opening ceremony.

This year, however, the atmosphere was heavier than usual.

Though the Great Hall remained as grand as ever, adorned in celebration of the new term, an unshakable gloom lingered beneath the surface.

Hundreds of floating candles bathed the hall in soft, golden light, illuminating the gold plates and goblets set for the students.

The four long House tables were already packed with chattering students, while at the far end of the hall, a fifth table was reserved for the Hogwarts faculty.

This year, among the professors, a new face stood out.

A rotund, bald man with bulging eyes and a walrus-like silver beard was seated among the staff. He wore a crisp white shirt beneath a snug brown wool vest.

Candlelight gleamed off his bare head, and his sizable belly, encased in the waistcoat, cast a great shadow over the table.

At that moment, he was engaged in an animated conversation with Dumbledore, his round face flushed with enthusiasm.

Dumbledore, always observant, soon noticed Ethan's arrival. Smiling warmly, he raised a hand and beckoned him over.

"I must introduce you, Ethan," Dumbledore said cheerfully.

"This is our newly appointed Potions Master, Professor Slughorn."