Outside the study, Rowena Ravenclaw stood in silence, her ethereal form flickering in the dim light. She had never anticipated that Erwin would succeed in the trial—and in such an outrageous manner. It was absurd. Trials were designed to probe the depths of intellect, yet Erwin had simply overwhelmed it with raw magical power, like smashing through an exam by pummeling the proctor.
Everyone else answered the questions with wit and precision. Erwin? He relied on brute force, thrashed the guardian, and claimed his prize. It was sheer hooliganism.
Ravenclaw felt utterly drained. Though Erwin had demonstrated his cleverness in the end, the method left her with a thousand unspoken grievances. She approved of him as her heir, but this... this was unacceptable.
Meanwhile, inside the study, Erwin lifted the parchment from the table and scanned its contents. This was Ravenclaw's true inheritance—whatever it might be. His efforts had paid off, and anticipation bubbled within him. Powerful spells? Forgotten potions? Some ancient artifact? As long as it wasn't some starry beauty charm, he'd take it gladly.
His eyes locked on the top line: "Hogwarts Ownership Transfer Right! (One-quarter)"
Erwin's hand trembled. If this meant what he thought...
Ravenclaw's voice echoed from beyond the door. "Take the quill beside you and sign at the bottom. You'll claim one of my true legacies: a quarter ownership of Hogwarts. Any questions, and I'll explain once you're out."
Without a second thought, Erwin seized the quill and scrawled: Erwin Cavendish.
The parchment ignited in a flash, its ashes swirling into a blue eagle emblem that darted toward his forehead. Before he could flinch, it burrowed into his skin. Instantly, a detailed floor plan of Hogwarts bloomed in his mind—sections glowing blue under his command, while others shimmered red, silver, and yellow, beyond his reach.
The vision faded, and the study dissolved into streams of starlight. Erwin rematerialized in the starry chamber, meeting Ravenclaw's conflicted gaze.
"Have you drunk the magic-boosting potion?" she asked.
"Something like that," Erwin replied. "A diluted version, mind you."
She frowned but waved it off. "Fine, never mind. What's your question?"
"The ownership of Hogwarts—what's that about?"
"You've felt it by now," Ravenclaw said. "Hogwarts isn't just any castle. It's alive."
Erwin nodded. The moving staircases and the Room of Requirement had hinted at as much. The place had a mind of its own—sentient, almost whimsical.
Ravenclaw continued, "As a Hogwarts student, you've noticed its quirks: secret passages, hidden chambers, that ever-shifting layout. Ever wonder why?"
Erwin shrugged. "I figured you four founders built them in for a bit of mischief—keep things lively."
She rolled her eyes. "You're daft, aren't you?"
Erwin bristled. The cheek of it—this spectral founder, slinging insults like a Slytherin.
"If our goal was education, Muggle-proofing, and a safe haven for wizards," she went on, "why on earth would we add secret tunnels? They'd only invite trouble—endless detentions for night-time wanderers."
Erwin paused. She had a point. Those passages spiced up student life but gave teachers endless headaches. The Weasley twins, for instance, had mapped half of them, dodging Filch like ghosts.
"Wait," Erwin said, frowning. "So you didn't build Hogwarts? But the history books say you and the other three founders did."
Ravenclaw sighed. "We discovered it. When we arrived, the castle was already standing, ancient and waiting. We passed its trials and earned ownership. The bards spun tales of us as builders to inspire the legend. Hogwarts' history? More myth than fact."
It clicked. "And the ownership?"
"Back then, wizards were hunted by Muggles—burned, driven out. We sought refuge and found this place. Hogwarts chose us as its first masters, granting control to those it deemed worthy. No one else could command it without that bond. That's why only we four could shape it so profoundly."
Erwin mulled it over. "So if someone controls Hogwarts, they own it?"
"Precisely," Ravenclaw affirmed. "You're thinking of the current Headmaster, aren't you? Dumbledore. I've sensed him in the Forbidden Forest; he knows of me. But he's too aged for my legacy—likely claimed Gryffindor's instead."
Erwin's mind raced. A quarter of Hogwarts under his thumb. The blue sections on the map—dormitories, corridors, perhaps even parts of the grounds—now answered to him. He could sense their pulse, like extensions of his will. Doors would unlock at his whim, wards bend to his needs. It was power beyond spells: influence over the heart of wizarding education.
But questions lingered. What did the other colors represent? Red for Gryffindor, silver for Slytherin, yellow for Hufflepuff—each tied to their founders' heirs or designees. Did Dumbledore hold the lion's share? And what if he consolidated them all?
Ravenclaw watched him closely, her expression softening. "It's a heavy gift, lad. Hogwarts doesn't yield easily. Use it wisely, or it'll use you."
Erwin met her gaze, a grin tugging at his lips. "I intend to."
As the starry chamber began to fade, Ravenclaw's form shimmered one last time. "The trials are done. Go forth—and remember, wisdom isn't just in books."
The vision dissolved, leaving Erwin alone in the Ravenclaw tower, the eagle mark warm on his brow. He flexed his fingers, feeling the castle's subtle hum respond. Ownership. True power. Whatever came next, Hogwarts was now partly his.