Erwin's lips curled into a thoughtful frown.
This was becoming increasingly interesting.
He firmly believed that any anomaly in the world signaled one thing: a much larger storm was brewing beneath the surface. And the signs were unmistakable.
"Since they want to feign dormancy," Erwin said coolly, "let's ignore them for now. Have the pure-blood families send representatives to form a formal alliance with the Cavendish family. We'll begin by consolidating the magical communities of the smaller nations."
Old Tom nodded respectfully. "As you wish, Master. But should we be wary of the Demos family? What if they strike at our operations once we commit our forces?"
Erwin chuckled darkly. "I'd welcome them to try. It would save me the trouble of hunting them down later."
"Understood, Master!" Old Tom replied.
"Remember your objective," Erwin added, his tone sharpening. "Achieve the goal, no matter the cost."
"I will accompany the team personally this time," Old Tom assured him.
"Excellent. Get to work. I'll be returning to Hogwarts shortly."
After breakfast, Erwin lingered at the table, waiting for Ebony to finish eating. He'd noticed the creature's appetite growing lately, yet it wasn't increasing in size proportionally. Erwin suspected it had something to do with the residual divine power within him—triggering some form of specialized evolution, perhaps. He had questioned Ebony, but the creature seemed blissfully unaware of any changes. In the end, Erwin decided to let nature take its course.
By the time he arrived back at Hogwarts, the dormitories were bustling with activity. Charlotte was busy changing his linens when Erwin casually placed Ebony on the table.
"Did they stay up all night again?" Erwin asked.
Charlotte nodded. "To be precise, Master, the entire student body was awake all night."
Erwin smiled. "Let them enjoy it. Opportunities like this are rare."
A day of revelry was followed by a day of recovery, and then classes resumed as scheduled. Yet, even as the school returned to its routine, the Shard of Delight competition was silently commencing just after midnight. Despite the official launch, the four schools remained eerily quiet. No one made the first move.
The Slytherins, particularly, wanted to cause difficulties for the other competitors, but they understood that even if they managed to seize fragments, they wouldn't be permitted to retain them. Why waste the effort?
Hogwarts, post-Christmas Ball, seemed outwardly unchanged, but the social dynamics had shifted considerably. The Ball had accelerated relationships. Now, it was common to see pairs of young witches and wizards strolling the corridors together, holding hands.
Naturally, none of this affected Erwin—until Hermione sought him out.
She was visibly distressed, complaining that Harry and Draco were becoming "excessive." They spent every spare moment together, and worst of all, they had officially become a couple.
Erwin was genuinely taken aback. He had observed the developing connection, of course, but he hadn't expected them to formalize things so rapidly.
What could he do? He offered his congratulations with as much sincerity as he could muster.
Unfortunately, Lucius Malfoy had already departed England with his operational team. Erwin decided it was prudent to wait for Lucius's return before delivering this potentially devastating news. He didn't want to distract the man during a critical mission.
A month passed in what felt like an instant.
January 31st arrived, and Hogwarts was decorated in festive splendor, mirroring the elaborate preparations from Christmas. Today was the Lunar New Year—Spring Festival—according to the Eastern calendar.
This was Erwin's initiative. He knew how deeply the students from the East valued the holiday, so he'd commissioned limited-edition traditional decorations for the Great Hall. It cost a considerable sum, but the result was magnificent.
Large crimson lanterns hung from the enchanted ceiling, giving the Great Hall a surreal, timeless atmosphere. For a moment, the Eastern students felt as if they'd been transported back to an ancient dynasty.
Erwin even had the house-elves instruct the students in making dumplings—though, strictly speaking, his personal elves taught the castle's elves, who then taught the students.
The Great Hall descended into controlled chaos, covered in flour. The students produced a batch of hideously misshapen dumplings, which were boiled and served nonetheless. The young wizards ate them with enthusiasm, though the broth was somewhat murky from filling that had leaked during cooking.
The Eastern students eagerly shared the customs and folklore of Spring Festival with their Western peers. The British students were fascinated; compared to their own traditions, Eastern legends felt richer and more layered with meaning. A considerable amount of "cultural knowledge" was absorbed that day.
Erwin even contacted a supplier in the Shu Mountain region to import a massive shipment of fireworks—purchasing them internationally because domestic options were both expensive and lacked variety.
When the sky above Hogwarts erupted in dazzling, explosive colors, the students were absolutely mesmerized.
The festive atmosphere lingered for seven full days. But as it faded, a tense energy replaced it. February had arrived.
With less than twenty days until the first stage of the competition concluded, the fragile peace was about to shatter. Whether participants or spectators, everyone understood the calm was ending.
Inside Cavendish Hall, the championship broadcast continued, though viewership had declined significantly after the initial excitement.
However, the Cavendish operations themselves were busier than ever. The entire wizarding world understood the confrontation was imminent.
A massive betting platform had opened in Diagon Alley, allowing wizards to wager on the ultimate victor. Naturally, the Cavendish family controlled the operation.
Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had attractive odds, but few placed bets on them. Everyone recognized that the East and Hogwarts were the true powerhouses.
Still, gamblers existed in every world. Even with minimal confidence in the outsiders, the sheer scale of participation generated a fortune in Galleons.
Meanwhile, the odds for the East and Hogwarts remained perfectly balanced at 1:1. The wizarding community was genuinely divided between the two, keeping the betting distribution remarkably even.
Ultimately, the Cavendish family was guaranteed substantial profit regardless of who won. They literally couldn't lose.