After dinner, Erwin made his way to Dumbledore's office.
"Sherbet Lemon!"
The stone gargoyle statue sprang aside, and the spiral staircase carried him upward. Erwin stepped into the circular room, where Dumbledore sat behind his desk, surrounded by whirring silver instruments and portraits of past headmasters dozing in their frames.
Seeing Erwin, Dumbledore set down his quill. "Ah, you've come. Take a seat."
Erwin nodded, settling into the chair opposite. "Professor, if you don't mind, I'm rather keen on that sound-transmission spell you used earlier—the one that whispers straight into my ear. Would you teach it to me?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles. "Of course. But first, let's chat." He leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk. A faint blue flicker danced in his blue eyes, vanishing as quickly as it appeared.
Surprise crossed the headmaster's face. "Impressive Occlumency."
Erwin chuckled, a hint of steel in his voice. "High praise, Professor. But if word got out that the greatest wizard of the age was probing a student's mind with Legilimency, it'd stir up a right storm in the wizarding world. Not the first time you've tried it on me, is it?"
Dumbledore's expression remained calm, though Erwin caught the subtle shift. He wasn't caught off guard—far from it. Before this meeting, Erwin had cornered Snape for Occlumency lessons. The Potions Master's sharp guidance had bumped his defenses to a solid level four, enough to stonewall the old wizard's probe.
"I'm sorry," Dumbledore said evenly. "I only wanted the truth about certain matters."
Erwin shrugged. "Too bad, Professor. If you want another peek now, you'll have to draw your wand and jab it at my forehead. Care to try?"
Under his robes, Erwin's fingers tightened around his wand. In his other hand, concealed by the desk, the cold barrel of a concealed firearm pressed toward Dumbledore's midsection—just in case.
The headmaster shook his head. "No need for that. I helped you out of a bind earlier, didn't I?"
"True enough," Erwin admitted. "I'm grateful. You put on quite the display of power, shielding me and reminding every dark corner that Hogwarts stands firm under your watch. It's the safest place around because of you."
Dumbledore leaned back, steepling his fingers. "Good. Then let's talk plainly, Erwin. About Ron."
Erwin met his gaze steadily. "As you wish. I never meant him any real harm. He's a Hogwarts student, after all."
Dumbledore's brows lifted slightly—he clearly hadn't expected such quick agreement. Erwin could read the skepticism in those sharp eyes and smirked. "Don't worry, Professor. I'm not out to get him expelled or anything dramatic. Our grudge—if you can call it that—isn't worth the fuss. Besides, Ron's never been on my radar. Whatever he's plotting, or you want him to do, that's your business."
"What do you want, then?" Dumbledore pressed. "What are you really after?"
Erwin spread his hands. "Ron? What could he possibly offer me? I'm not belittling him, but he's got nothing I couldn't get elsewhere."
The headmaster paused, his gaze probing. "The Weasleys, perhaps?"
Erwin laughed softly. "Everyone knows they're your staunchest allies. Ron's no threat to them—or me. No, Professor, I'm just building leverage to keep myself safe. You know the shadows closing in better than I do."
Dumbledore's expression grew thoughtful. "Your methods remind me of someone. Ambitious, manipulative—Grindelwald. He wielded power like a tool, bending people to his will without a second thought."
Erwin's smile didn't waver. "Flattered, but you overestimate me. I'm no Grindelwald. Everything I've done is self-preservation. You see threats I don't even know about yet—the ones that took my parents. I won't go down like that without a fight."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I understand. Ron will return next week. I trust you won't make trouble for him."
"Never crossed my mind," Erwin replied. "He's irrelevant to me."
The headmaster shook his head. "That's not reassurance enough. I need your word that you'll rein in Slytherin—keep them from targeting him."
Erwin arched an eyebrow. "Professor, what makes you think I pull all their strings? Slytherins aren't puppets; they're people with their own minds."
"Name your terms," Dumbledore said firmly. "We both know you hold sway."
Erwin shook his head. "I can't promise what I don't control."
Frustration flickered across Dumbledore's face—a rare crack in his composure. Erwin wasn't budging, and the headmaster seemed at a loss, his usual silver tongue falling short.
Finally, Dumbledore sighed. "Before coming here, I visited the Burrow. Spoke with Ron."
Erwin nodded. "Figured as much. And? Let me guess—you delved into his mind with Legilimency, saw our little chat? Pieced together enough to paint me as the villain. But will you air it all? A scheming student versus a headmaster mind-probing his own pupils—which scandal sells more papers?"
Erwin's lips curved into a knowing grin. He'd gamed this out already. Dumbledore's methods were predictable: Legilimency or a Pensieve dive. Ron wouldn't master the latter anytime soon, and the Weasleys wouldn't risk it on their son. Only Dumbledore could probe without lasting harm—and exposing Erwin meant exposing himself.
No more games, then. Erwin leaned forward. "Professor, let's cut to it. You want Ron safe? Done. Slytherin stays clear. But understand this: I'm not the threat here. The real dangers? You know them better than anyone."
Dumbledore studied him for a long moment, the room's magical gadgets humming softly in the silence. Fawkes the phoenix trilled from his perch, breaking the tension. At last, the headmaster inclined his head. "Very well. We'll leave it there—for now."
Erwin rose, inclining his head politely. "Good evening, Professor."
As he descended the staircase, Erwin allowed himself a small smile. The old wizard had blinked first. But in the wizarding world, trust was a fragile thing—and he wasn't about to let his guard down.