The compartment fell silent the moment Erwin spoke.
Malfoy gaped at him, utterly baffled. Confusion clouded his eyes; that walnut-sized brain of his couldn't process what Erwin meant at all. True, he'd planned to stir up trouble upon learning Erwin wasn't from a pure-blood family. But curse someone? No, not really. He'd been raised to tailor his words to his audience—insulting a Weasley was fair game because, in Malfoy's mind, he outranked them. Yet Erwin's presence changed everything. There was an undeniable aura about him, more refined than any pure-blood Malfoy knew. Before he could even speak, he'd been sent sprawling.
Ron and Harry, watching from the sidelines, were equally taken aback. Ron had been snapped at by Erwin and mocked by Malfoy, so he lumped them both together as troublemakers. Harry, though, felt the opposite—likely a case of first impressions. Erwin had helped him, and he already despised Malfoy. Seeing Erwin put the git in his place sparked an instant fondness.
Erwin, oblivious to it all, would have been livid if he'd known. A savior? More like a walking jinx.
Goyle and Crabbe lumbered over to haul Malfoy to his feet. The blond boy glared at Erwin, resentment mingling with a flicker of fear. He'd never been struck before, let alone by someone as unpredictable as this.
Erwin arched an eyebrow at the defiant stare. "What? Planning to hex me now?"
He gave his wand a casual flick for emphasis.
Malfoy paled. "No! I wouldn't—I didn't mean—"
Terror gripped him. Without a wand, the Expelliarmus would still send him flying, just like that hapless Death Eater Hermione blasted in the books. It wouldn't kill, but the impact stung.
Erwin merely hummed. "Well? Off you go, then."
Malfoy froze for a split second before bolting, his cronies in tow. They vanished down the corridor like they'd spotted a rabid dog.
The lingering onlookers dispersed soon after. Erwin stifled a yawn. By his reckoning, it was still two or three hours to Hogwarts. He started toward his compartment for a nap.
An Asian girl approached him instead. "Brilliant Summoning Charm and Expelliarmus! You're really not pure-blood? Your magic's far too polished for a beginner."
Erwin shook his head. "Just some practice before term started."
She extended her hand. "What talent! I'm Cho Chang—Cho to my friends, though Westerners mix it up."
Erwin smiled faintly. It was her, all right—the series' sole Asian face from the books, not the films. This world seemed a blend of both, courtesy of whatever quirks the story demanded.
He shook her hand gently. "Erwin Cavendish. Nice to meet you, Cho."
He said it in Chinese.
Cho's eyes widened. "You speak the language too!"
Erwin nodded. "It is a fascinating country with a rich history. I have always admired the culture and landscapes from afar."
She beamed. "Exactly! I hope you end up in Ravenclaw—we'd get on brilliantly."
"Maybe," Erwin chuckled.
One of her friends called her over. "Come visit China sometime," she said, turning back. "You're welcome anytime."
Erwin inclined his head. "I'd like that. You'll have to play tour guide."
With a laugh, she jogged off. "With your fluency, you won't need one!"
Erwin watched her go, admiring the youthful energy in her stride. Ah, the vigor of it all.
"Was that Chinese just now?"
He turned to find Hermione still there, rooted in place. Beside her stood the timid Neville Longbottom.
Erwin nodded. "Yes—now that we've found your toad, Trevor, I'm off to rest."
Hermione glanced at his compartment. "Yours is empty, and I'm not trekking back. Mind if we join you?"
"If you can stay quiet," Erwin replied.
He slipped inside without waiting. Hermione didn't bat an eye. She turned to Neville. "Coming, or heading back?"
Neville fidgeted. "I'll go back... that Erwin chap scares me a bit."
"Suit yourself," she said briskly. "Just mind Trevor this time. Lose him again, and there won't be another Summoning Charm to save you."
Neville bobbed his head vigorously and shuffled off—unaware that his toad's misadventures were only beginning. The scamp would hop through Hogwarts like a recurring gag.
Hermione settled in. Erwin had his eyes closed, but she launched right in. "That Summoning Charm—was it Accio? I read about it, but that's third-year stuff. And Expelliarmus is second-year! How'd you manage it so flawlessly?"
Erwin's temples throbbed. Regret sank in; he'd forgotten Hermione Granger wasn't just a walking encyclopedia—she was a pint-sized interrogator, the queen of why.
When he didn't respond, she pressed on. "Asleep already? Did I wake you?"
His expression soured. Splendid. The title fit her to a T.
Sighing, Erwin cracked an eye open. "For one, a tutor showed me the ropes. For two, remember what I said about keeping quiet?"
...
Another 5 chapters down! We are moving at lightning speed, but we aren't at the top yet.
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—MrGrim.