Dumbledore knew exactly what was going on with Quirrell. Voldemort was just a tool in his grand scheme—a way to temper Harry Potter, forging him into a weapon against Horcruxes. That sly old fox was the perfect name for him.
As Harry's broom bucked wildly in the air, Erwin watched with keen interest. Would Dumbledore step in?
Quirrell might outmatch Snape in raw dark arts, but even Snape's subtle interference from afar gave him trouble. Keep that up, and Harry would plummet to the ground.
But then, a sudden stir erupted from the professors' box. Erwin glanced over just in time to see a Bludger veer off course and slam into Quirrell. The Defense professor staggered, nearly tumbling from his seat.
Erwin blinked in surprise. What luck!
He frowned a moment later. No, that was too convenient. Bludgers didn't just wander like that—they had targets. His gaze flicked to Snape, catching the faint twitch of the Potions master's sleeve. A wand tip had slipped out, quick as a flash.
Erwin's respect deepened. Impressive. Casting under the nose of a dueling opponent? That was elite wizardry.
The match played out much as expected. With reckless Gryffindor bravery, Harry dove like a madman and snatched the Golden Snitch in his mouth. Erwin grimaced as the boy spat it out. Revolting. How many germs lingered on that thing? As a stickler for cleanliness, Erwin could hardly stomach it.
Madam Hooch's whistle pierced the air, ending the game. "Gryffindor wins! Harry Potter catches the Snitch!"
The Gryffindor stands exploded in cheers. Ron Weasley shot smug looks at the Slytherins, even arching a brow at Erwin in challenge. Erwin ignored him entirely, which soured Ron's triumph in an instant. Quidditch held no thrill for Erwin anyway—Ron's opinion mattered less than dust.
Marcus Flint's face was thunderous as the Slytherin team drifted to their stands. Their Seeker, Terence Higgs, hung his head. "Sorry, Prefect. I let you down."
"I'm sorry too," Terence mumbled. "I got scared."
Marcus scowled, but Erwin rose smoothly, clapping a hand on the Seeker's shoulder. "Enough of that. Wins and losses are fleeting. The Snitch's unpredictable by nature, Terence—you made the smart call. Slytherin thrives on ambition, but only if we're alive to chase it. Safety first, always."
The team nodded, absorbing his words. Erwin addressed the stands. "The same goes for all of you. Preserve yourselves, no matter the odds. Plan for the long game. Don't throw your lives away for trifles like a single match."
Terence's eyes glistened. "Thank you, Prefect."
Erwin grinned. "You're heroes, every one—true Slytherins. Now, let's give them the applause they deserve!"
Thunderous cheers rose from the green-and-silver section, drowning out the Gryffindors. Harry stared, a pang of envy hitting him for the first time. He wondered if he'd made a mistake ignoring the Sorting Hat's whisper about Slytherin. Other houses joined the clapping, caught up in the moment. For all their victory, the lions faded into the background.
"Right, off to change," Erwin said. "Lunch awaits—don't miss Saturday's feast on my account."
Marcus nodded and led the team away. Erwin grabbed the newspaper from his stool, ready to join the departing Slytherins.
Then the sky darkened abruptly. Thunder rumbled through the clouds.
Erwin froze, looking up. Dumbledore's face tightened. In a blur, the Headmaster launched into the air.
"All students, clear the grounds! Now!"
Snape spun toward Erwin. "Erwin, get them out!"
Erwin nodded sharply. "Slytherins, move—out of the stands!"
He hurried down, finding Snape waiting below. "Professor, what's happening?"
"No time—I'll escort you."
Another bolt of lightning cracked down. Dumbledore flicked his wand, conjuring roaring flames that swallowed the strike whole. His voice was ice. "This is Hogwarts. You dare?"
Erwin felt the Headmaster's magic surge like a storm. Dumbledore was furious.
Black-robed figures materialized in the air, hovering without brooms or spells to aid them. They encircled him.
"Dumbledore," their leader snarled, "hand him over."
The Headmaster's expression hardened. "This is Hogwarts, not your playground. Leave now, and I'll overlook this trespass."
"We don't seek war with you," the man pressed. "But he comes with us."
Erwin's mind raced. Revenge seekers, bold enough to storm the castle? Impressive guts. Who was the poor sod drawing this heat?
He scanned the group—and his blood ran cold. One clutched a metal staff topped with a glowing crystal orb.
Bloody hell. These thugs were after him.