Erwin wasted no time letting the young witches and wizards process his words. With a casual flick of his wand, he set the stone golems in motion. They lumbered forward, closing in on the students step by step.
The fifth-years recoiled in shock. "Merlin's beard, how are we supposed to take these down?" one yelped. "One solid hit from those fists, and we're done for!" Another grumbled, "Is Erwin training us or trying to finish us off? The prefect's merciless!"
Charlotte Teresa watched the golems advance with a steely glare. "What are you lot gawking at? Get fighting! Keep whining, and you'll have all the time in the world to chat from a hospital bed after those things smash you flat."
She drew her wand in a blur, firing off a spell that slammed into the nearest golem. A cluster of girls nearby—her close-knit group—followed suit, wands out and spells flying.
A rising tide lifts all boats, as they say. It wasn't just favoritism; Charlotte's influence had sharpened their skills. She tutored them relentlessly, putting them leagues ahead of their peers. As fifth-years, they formed Slytherin's top squad for Wizarding Duels, the best in all of Hogwarts. What Erwin admired most, though, was their seamless teamwork. Years of friendship and joint drills under his watch had forged an unspoken bond—a shared glance was all they needed.
They zeroed in on one golem: some cast restraining spells to pin it, while others backed Charlotte's primary assault. Erwin observed from the sidelines, arms folded, and gave a subtle nod. Charlotte was a natural. In his view, her potential outshone even Hermione's—more flexible, less rigid. If he needed a true right hand, it'd be her, hands down.
But talent alone wouldn't save her today. Erwin had tucked in a little twist.
Charlotte targeted the golem's joints with precision, a mark of her combat savvy. Transfigured from stone, the constructs shrugged off most spells—their joints were the only real vulnerability. Her magic hit true, and the golem stuttered to a halt. Her eyes gleamed. "Got it!"
Then a shimmering shield manifestation flickered over the joint. Charlotte's jaw dropped. "My lord, you warded it with a Shield Charm? That's not fair—who could break through that?!"
Erwin's defenses were legendary; no fifth-year could pierce them. The others caught on too, scattering from the golems' swings while muttering curses under their breath.
Erwin called out calmly, "Giving up already? Shield Charms aren't unbreakable. Think—what's its flaw? How do you exploit it?"
Charlotte paused, brow furrowed, then her face lit up. "Stupefy! The prefect said last week's study session—no spell's flawless, not even Protego. We can't pinpoint the weak spot, but a wide-area Stupefy will force it. Blanket the area, and it'll crack!"
The remaining students perked up at her plan. Erwin smirked inwardly. Sharp as ever. The tactic was sound—for adult witches and wizards, at least. These fifth-years? One brilliant mind like Charlotte's wasn't enough. They'd learn the hard way. Growth never came easy.
He stepped aside as Dobby popped in with a steaming cup of black tea. "Master Erwin!" the elf chirped.
Erwin nodded. "Thanks, Dobby. Back to your duties."
Dobby beamed. "No trouble, sir—I can fetch another!"
Erwin waved him off, eyes on the fray. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "One'll do. More's just waste."
No sooner had he spoken than a Gryffindor boy went flying from a golem's punch, slamming into the floor with a pained yelp. Erwin snapped his fingers; the boy floated over, landing gently at his feet.
Erwin glanced down. "Tough break, lad. Rest up—we'll haul the lot of you to the hospital wing after."
The Gryffindor clutched his arm. "It's broken—ow!"
Erwin shrugged. "I see that. Hush now; the racket's distracting. Pain's part of it—you'll toughen up."
The boy's eyes bulged in disbelief, but Erwin turned away. In the wizarding world, fractures mended in minutes. As the chaos escalated, more students joined the pile at his feet. The Gryffindors fell first, then the Slytherins clung on a bit longer before crumbling.
Their efforts weren't wasted, though. Ten golems dwindled to two, and only Charlotte and a handful of holdouts remained, dodging and weaving against the relentless assault. It was only a matter of time.
Erwin drained his tea and let the cup drop. It vanished mid-fall in a puff of magic. At once, the golems surged. One felled two of Charlotte's allies with a crushing swing, sending them sprawling. The second barreled toward the survivors.
Charlotte twisted aside just in time, her breath ragged but her resolve unbroken.
...
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