Lucius didn't stop Narcissa. He knew better than to try. She was seething, and anyone who intervened now would pay dearly—likely with him exiled to the study for weeks.
The other pure-blood families, unaware of Erwin's true lineage, rallied anyway. Erwin's imminent coronation as Slytherin's king demanded it. This was a fight for the house's honor, transcending bloodlines. They were united under one banner: Slytherin alumni.
Even if Erwin faltered this weekend and failed to claim the throne outright, he remained the closest contender. That alone made him Slytherin's pride, worthy of their defense.
Outside, the wizarding world churned with intrigue, but Erwin remained blissfully unaware. Had he known, he'd have reined in those overzealous fools before they spiraled out of control. Alas, the brats were invoking his name like a patron saint, oblivious to his real wishes.
Meanwhile, our protagonist wrapped up his classes and strode toward the Great Hall for lunch, trailed by a entourage of Slytherins. They entered like a conquering parade, drawing glances from the settling students.
At the entrance, Mrs. Weasley gripped Ron's arm tightly. "Today, you apologize to Erwin. No arguments."
Ron twisted wildly. "I won't! Let me leave Hogwarts! Mum, take me home—please!"
Her face hardened. "Quiet, Ron! Erwin's generous enough to forgive you, but that doesn't erase what you did. If I could drag you out of here myself, I would—but he's too kind to wreck your future over this. Be grateful, not petulant!"
Ron's struggles intensified. "I won't go! Take me away, Mum! I'll die here—I swear I will!"
Disappointment etched her features. "Ron, you can't even face the consequences? I'm ashamed of you."
He begged, voice cracking. "You've all been fooled! He's dangerous—believe me!"
Mrs. Weasley shot back icily, "Erwin forgave you, and now you slander him with those afternoon ravings? Ron Weasley, I wish I'd never had you. You've shamed our family!"
Ron fell silent, stunned. He'd already confessed what Erwin had whispered to him, but it earned only a stinging slap. She dismissed it as a ploy to smear the boy, shocked her son could stoop so low. Disgust sealed her lips.
"Fine," she added curtly. "Apologize first—then you can leave if you must."
Hope flickered in Ron's eyes. Escape from Hogwarts, from that horrifying vision Erwin had painted, was all that mattered now. The chill of it lingered, undeniable even to his rattled mind.
Inside the Great Hall, dinner wound down. Professor McGonagall spotted the pair at the doors and rose, tapping her glass for attention.
"Quiet, everyone!"
Heads turned. "As you all know, today's incident in the Great Hall was regrettable," she announced. "Erwin has graciously offered forgiveness to Mr. Weasley, but I believe an apology is in order. What say you, Mr. Cavendish?"
Erwin stood, waving it off. "Professor, it's unnecessary. Truly, it's no great matter. I know Ron didn't mean it—conflicts like this happen among boys our age."
At the Slytherin table, eyes glistened with admiration. This was their prefect: noble, powerful, and forgiving. They'd noticed his subdued mood all day, yet here he was, rising above it. It humbled them.
Pansy leapt up. "No, Prefect! Weasley doesn't deserve mercy, but for your sake—and Slytherin's—he must apologize!"
The table erupted in agreement. "Yes, make him say it!"
"You're too kind, Prefect, but he owes us!"
"Apologize!"
The chant spread, other houses joining the uproar. Outside, Ron paled to a sickly green.
McGonagall tapped her glass again, but the din persisted. Erwin raised a hand. "Quiet!"
Silence crashed down like a spell. Slytherins froze mid-shout; the rest followed suit. Even McGonagall exhaled in relief.
Ron had ignited a firestorm this time. Erwin blinked, surprised at his own influence. Good thing this wasn't some cutthroat court drama—such authority could be lethal.
"Mrs. Weasley," McGonagall said, "please bring Mr. Weasley forward."
All eyes swung to the doors. Mrs. Weasley, legs unsteady, hauled a trembling Ron inside. Slytherins glared daggers, their fury palpable, as if ready to hex him on the spot.
Ron quaked harder.
She dragged him to the staff dais and shoved him down. He stumbled, sprawling on the flagstones.
"Apologize to Erwin—now," she demanded coldly.
A shiver raced through Ron. He scrambled up. "I'm sorry! I was wrong—please forgive me!"
Erwin rose with a warm smile. "I accept, Ron. As I said, I never held it against you. Let's put this behind us—you know that. Friends still, right?"
Ron met his gaze, and the afternoon's chilling prophecy replayed in his mind. Another wave of dread washed over him, icy and unrelenting.
...
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