Erwin didn't say anything more after hearing this. He shrugged. In fact, he was already getting used to the constant shroud of mystery that hung over everything.
Of course, he could understand Snape's caution. Look at today's scene—the enemies they faced were no doubt formidable. As the saying goes, knowledge can be dangerous, so Snape probably held back details to keep Erwin from rushing off in revenge.
But Erwin wasn't impulsive. He never acted unless he was absolutely certain, even if it was only 99% sure. Especially not with his life on the line.
At that moment, Professor McGonagall and the others entered the castle. The black-robed intruders outside had clearly been dealt with.
Spotting Erwin, she hurried over. "Erwin! Are you all right? Did you run into any trouble?"
He nodded. "I'm fine, Professor. A black-robed man sneaked into the castle and attacked me, but Professor Snape arrived just in time and handled him."
Professor McGonagall let out a relieved breath. "Good. Then let's head to the Great Hall. The students must be frightened out of their wits."
Erwin frowned in confusion. "Shouldn't we help Professor Dumbledore?"
"Don't worry about him—he can take care of himself," she replied firmly. "To the Great Hall we go."
Erwin nodded, though he noticed the faint confidence in her expression. She didn't seem overly concerned about the attack. Was it their combined strength that made them so fearless?
All of Hogwarts' students were gathered in the Great Hall, as per tradition. In times of danger, the professors always rounded everyone up—for protection and to prevent chaos from spreading. It had happened during the Chamber of Secrets crisis and the Death Eater assaults.
Erwin made a beeline for the Slytherin group. The young witches and wizards stood quickly.
"Prefect!" they called.
He gave a nod. "At ease, everyone. Sit down and wait for lunch—it's nearly time."
The Slytherins settled back into their seats with murmurs of agreement.
Not long after, Dumbledore swept into the hall. Heads turned his way.
He chuckled. "Looks like I made it just in time for the meal!"
Striding to the staff table, he tapped his fingers lightly against the wood. Instantly, platters of food appeared—roasts, pies, and all the usual favorites, with a few exotic wizarding twists added since Erwin's arrival.
Erwin wondered if the overworked house-elf Dobby was run ragged in the kitchens. But as he dug into his plate with gusto, thoughts of black-robed assailants faded fast. Was there anything more important than a good meal? If there was, it was only if the food fell short—and Dobby's cooking never did.
After lunch, Erwin headed to Dumbledore's office.
"Sherbet Lemon!" he announced.
The stone gargoyle sprang aside, revealing the spiral staircase. Dumbledore had given him the password earlier, along with instructions to stop by.
Erwin couldn't help but roll his eyes. Did the Headmaster have a sweet tooth that big? He'd tolerated the cockroach clusters and candy piles before, but now, with these new Muggle-inspired recipes influencing Hogwarts, Dumbledore's password choices had taken a whimsical turn.
Stepping inside for the first time, Erwin glanced around curiously. The office was surprisingly spacious, not cluttered at all—tidy and inviting. No wonder; it had to be the work of someone with impeccable taste.
Dumbledore hadn't returned yet.
"Hey, you there! Silver-white hair—Cavendish, is it?" a voice called.
Erwin turned toward the sound. The portraits on the walls were peering at him with interest.
He bowed politely. "Greetings, esteemed Headmasters. I'm Erwin Cavendish."
One portrait leaned forward. "So alike! You look just like your father—no, even handsomer!"
Erwin glanced at the nameplate: Phineas Nigellus Black.
He recognized him immediately—the least popular Headmaster in Hogwarts history.
Phineas continued, "I eyed your father the same way when he first visited this office."
"I salute you, esteemed Headmaster," Erwin replied.
Phineas gave a slight nod. "Polite chap! A true Slytherin. I heard you were attacked today?"
"Yes," Erwin admitted. "It was a close call. Without Professor Snape, I'd have been in real trouble."
Phineas barked a laugh. "Polite, but not entirely honest, eh? Forgot about the interconnected portraits, did you? There were a few in that corridor where you waited."
Erwin paused, caught off guard. He'd overlooked that.
"No harm done," Phineas said with a smirk. "I admire the caution. I knew your family a bit, you know—sorry about your parents. In my era of Slytherins, I only truly admired four: your folks, Snape, and... well, never mind."
Though he trailed off, Erwin knew the fourth: Voldemort. The one too notorious to name outright.
It was an apt description. Setting aside his twisted personality, Voldemort's achievements were undeniably brilliant—raw talent paired with unyielding ambition. A pity his intellect fell short; anyone with a shred of sense could have outmaneuvered him.
In Erwin's eyes, Voldemort's fatal flaw was one: trusting that blasted prophecy. If Erwin were in his shoes...
He shook off the thought. "Headmaster Dumbledore sent me here."
Phineas nodded. "Ah. Well, make yourself at home. He won't be long."
Erwin settled into a chair, the office's warmth easing the day's tensions as he waited.
...
Thank you for getting us to #100!
You guys are amazing! As promised, because of your incredible support, I'm doing a 15-Chapter Mass Release today!
I've just dropped the first 10 chapters for you to binge. The remaining 5 chapters will be uploaded after 12.
If you're enjoying the mass release, please smash those Powerstones and leave a review! Your support keeps me motivated to write more and faster. Let's aim for the top!
— MrGrim