After freshening up, Erwin examined his reflection in the mirror. He adjusted his robes, then traced a finger along the corner of his mouth, sketching a bright, cheerful smile. Satisfied, he nodded. That was the image: a sunny, upbeat young wizard. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he'd focus on executing his plans one step at a time, giving his all and letting fate handle the rest. Not everything depended on him alone.
He descended from the dormitory into the common room, where a cluster of young witches and wizards waited eagerly. Spotting him, they rose quickly.
"Prefect!" one called.
Erwin nodded. "Right, everyone—let's head out. Another week begins."
They parted to let him through, falling in behind. Close on his heels were Barton (second-year), Marjorie Helen (third-year), Charlotte Teresa (fourth-year), Marcus Flint (fifth-year), and the newly won-over sixth-year Cassius Selwyn. The rest of the Slytherins followed in a loose trail.
The group streamed toward the common rooms set aside for study. On the moving staircases, Gemma lingered with the seventh-years, who exchanged puzzled looks. He smirked. "What, jealous? I haven't conceded yet! One more week outside Slytherin—might as well make the most of it."
The seventh-years murmured agreement, and Grodia led them along.
Outside the castle, the sun barely crested the horizon—a sight many students had never witnessed at Hogwarts. Ghosts and portraits, privy to the schedule shift, still blinked in surprise at the early-morning procession. The Slytherins marched in orderly file through the dim corridors, straight to the study spaces.
These rooms for the four houses adjoined one another, repurposed from unused classrooms. Hogwarts excelled here; space was never an issue. Students from other houses watched the Slytherins pass, a twinge of envy stirring despite themselves. The unity, whatever its roots, carried an undeniable pull.
Erwin led at the front, his silver-white hair catching the faint light like a beacon. At the door, he pushed it open, and the wall sconces flickered to life. He stepped aside, ushering the group in with disciplined precision.
Hurried footsteps echoed then—Harry Potter, breathless, skidding to a halt.
Malfoy caught sight of him and felt an inexplicable pull to charge over and trade barbs. He couldn't explain it; the impulse just gripped him. If Erwin recognized the sign of a potent bond, he'd have been impressed.
Harry approached Erwin. "Er, sorry—running late!"
Erwin waved it off. "No harm done. Hang back a moment; I'll introduce you once we're settled. Get a feel for things with the others in the meantime."
Harry nodded, eyeing the Slytherins with a mix of awe and wariness. Their house's dominance at Hogwarts was legendary, after all—an outfit of dozens strong enough to daunt anywhere.
A few Slytherins by the door overheard, Malfoy among them. He glanced at Harry, then at Erwin, confusion knitting his brow. What was the Gryffindor doing in their common room? Studying with them?
Erwin met Malfoy's gaze. "Something wrong, Draco?"
Draco shook his head hastily. "No, Prefect! Nothing at all!"
"Then in you go—what are you hanging about for?"
Draco bolted inside. Moments later, the last stragglers filed in, and the Hogwarts bell tolled, signaling the start of the first self-study session.
Professors from the other houses arrived shortly after. Professor McGonagall scanned the room. "Erwin? Where's Professor Snape?"
Erwin inclined his head politely. "Good morning, Professor. He's brewing a potion and couldn't make it, so he's left Grodia and me in charge. We'll handle any issues and loop him in if needed."
McGonagall's eyebrows shot up. Possible? Then why had she dragged herself out of bed at this hour?
Flitwick and Sprout exchanged glances, rubbing sleep from their eyes. Why did only Snape get the luxury of sleeping in?
Erwin addressed them evenly. "Professors, the idea's straightforward: morning sessions for previewing lessons, evenings for review. Students rarely run into trouble, and if they do, they can consult older years—it builds house spirit. No need for you to rise with the roosters every day."
Flitwick and Sprout nodded, relieved. A lie-in sounded heavenly.
McGonagall considered. "I'll take it under advisement, Erwin. You're spot on; let's trial it. If it works, I'd not mind a bit of rest myself."
Erwin's smile warmed. "It's not about slacking, Professor—it's fostering independence. We all know the sacrifices you make for the students. This is just efficiency, not laziness."
The three Heads chuckled. That was Erwin's gift: reframing the practical as noble. Developing self-reliance? Hardly indolence.
Nearby, Harry gaped, half-tempted to jot it all down. A lifetime's wisdom in a few sentences.
"Oh, and Professor," Erwin added, "Harry'll join the Slytherins for study—I'll tutor him personally. That suit you?"
McGonagall's eyes gleamed with approval. "Dumbledore mentioned it, but yes—of course. The decision's mine, as his Head, but I trust you implicitly. Help him along."
She was plainly thrilled.