Even without Erwin's involvement, Hagrid would have been released soon enough. His arrest had been a ploy, aimed squarely at undermining Dumbledore. No one seriously believed Hagrid was the culprit behind Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets. The Slytherins prized blood purity above all—why would they frame a half-giant like him?
Hagrid's real value to the scheme was as leverage against the headmaster. Once he was in custody, ousting Dumbledore became child's play. The old wizard had his own strategies at play, but under that pressure, he had little choice but to step aside.
Erwin's part? He'd simply dispatched a contact to spring Hagrid. That sparked the gamekeeper's grateful misunderstanding. Erwin saw no need to correct it.
The young witches and wizards erupted in cheers at Hagrid's return to the Great Hall.
Professor McGonagall raised a hand for silence. "Before we tuck in, one last announcement. I'm sure you've all heard the rumors about Lockhart. No need for whispers—yes, he's the one who unleashed the Chamber of Secrets."
The hall buzzed with murmurs. The story had rippled through the castle all day, but without official word from a professor or Erwin, doubts lingered. Now, with McGonagall's confirmation, it felt real.
She tapped her goblet sharply. "Quiet, please. We can't say if he was under a curse—his body's with the Ministry now. With three months left in term, that leaves our Defense Against the Dark Arts post empty once more."
Students exchanged uneasy glances.
"After consulting with the staff," McGonagall continued, "we've agreed that Mr. Erwin will take over the class until the end of term."
The announcement sent ripples through the hall. The Slytherins lit up with excitement, while most from the other houses grinned in approval. The Gryffindors, predictably, looked sour—but even they stayed silent. Rivals or not, no one could deny Erwin's prowess.
McGonagall turned to him. "Erwin, any words?"
He rose with a wry smile. "Not really, Professor. Everyone's starving."
She nodded. "Fair enough. Dig in!"
Food materialized on the house tables in a lavish spread, even grander than the start-of-term feast. The students dove in without hesitation.
From the staff table, the professors watched with fond smiles. Nothing beat seeing the kids happy.
...
Midnight cloaked Hogwarts in silence, the castle's inhabitants deep in slumber.
By the Black Lake's edge, Erwin lounged on the grass. The basilisk coiled beside him, eyes half-lidded, savoring the cool breeze. Erwin traced a hand along its scales, mending a deep gash with a soft glow. The wound knit closed, leaving smooth hide.
The little black creature—Ebony—licked basilisk blood from its whiskers before leaping to Erwin's shoulder. With a crack, they vanished.
Diagon Alley lay hushed under the stars, shops shuttered tight. The Cavendish Mansion glowed faintly in the dim light.
Old Tom waited at the door. Spotting Erwin, he bowed low. "Master."
Erwin nodded. "All set? This one's a handful—takes up space."
Tom eyed the basilisk warily. Its eyes were shut, but the sheer bulk of the ancient beast commanded respect. He'd only read about such monsters.
"Lead on," Erwin said. "I've got an early start at Hogwarts tomorrow."
Tom inclined his head.
Erwin gave the basilisk a gentle flick on the snout. "Be good now. He'll show you your new spot. Stay put, and I'll fetch you for adventures over break."
The serpent nudged him affectionately, then followed Tom. With a swirl of Apparition, they were gone. No trace remained of the deadly creature that had slithered through moments before.
Back in his dorm, Erwin set Little Black down and headed to the mirror for a quick wash. Staring at his reflection, a translucent panel shimmered into view.
His eyes locked on one line: [Magical Power: Level Five!]
Lockhart's demise had pushed him over the edge. The fraud's life force shattered Erwin's level-four ceiling, elevating him to professor-tier magic.
As he'd learned, only the four Heads of House wielded true Level 5 power. The rest of the staff hovered at elite Auror strength—or lower for some.
Now, Erwin matched those heads. Magical reserves were no longer his Achilles' heel.
Above them loomed Voldemort and Dumbledore. But with his enchanted ring's stored energy, Erwin bridged that gap. He wouldn't fear the Dark Lord in a straight fight. Dumbledore? Well, that might tap his reserves.
Strength's surge brought clarity on legendary wizards. Erwin realized his earlier views had been too narrow—raw power was just one piece of the puzzle.
...
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