Erwin nodded eagerly. "Of course I'm sure!"
Rowena asked, "Won't that be difficult?"
Erwin shook his head. "Not at all. Rest assured, I'd be delighted to help you reunite with Lady Helena and her mother. It's the least I can do."
Rowena nodded. "Very well. Bring me the diadem, and I'll grant you the chance to claim my inheritance—as well as access to Hufflepuff's Cup."
Erwin bowed slightly. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
Rowena raised her hand with a wave.
The next instant, Erwin's body lifted uncontrollably into the air. Moments later, he tumbled back before the unicorn statue.
The Unicorn King nudged him gently with its horn.
Erwin staggered from the bump. "What are you doing?"
The creature paused. "You're awake? You looked like you were asleep—standing up, no less. I thought only beasts like us could manage that. Do humans do it too?"
Erwin blinked, caught off guard. "How long was I out?"
The Unicorn King tilted its head. "An hour, maybe? We don't keep track of time."
Erwin straightened. "Right, got it. I'm heading back now—it's getting late. Thanks for everything. I'll return soon."
The Unicorn King dipped its head. "Of course. We'll retreat deeper into hiding for now, away from that dark wizard. Call if you need us."
Erwin smiled. "Much appreciated."
With a snap of his fingers, he vanished, reappearing in his dormitory.
After Erwin departed, a glimmer of starlight sparked in the Ravenclaw statue's eyes.
In that ethereal starry realm, Rowena's expression lit with intrigue. "An intriguing young wizard. Dragon Speaker bloodline, mixed with that one's lineage—both in a single heir? What could he be plotting? And he's siphoned some of Gryffindor's authority? Someone's already claimed Godric's legacy? How fascinating. I do hope he locates the diadem swiftly. Perhaps I should make it easy for him. He's still so trusting, swallowing every word I say. Utterly amusing."
Rowena's face broke into a grin. Then her form dissolved into shimmering starlight, blending seamlessly into the cosmic expanse.
Back in his room, Erwin splashed water on his face and changed the sheets before collapsing onto the bed. He mulled over the legacies of Rowena and Helga.
The Ravenclaw's Diadem would be straightforward to retrieve. Voldemort had turned it into a Horcrux and hidden it in the Room of Requirement, smug in the belief that no one else could find it. He'd added no protective enchantments.
The catch? It housed a fragment of Voldemort's soul.
Erwin now wielded the power of Fiendfyre, enough to shatter any Horcrux—but that would destroy the diadem too. This inheritance was too valuable to risk.
How could he extract the soul fragment without ruining the artifact?
He pondered for ages, drawing a blank.
Then he smacked his forehead. Why was he overthinking this? It was Rowena's problem. Hand it over to her, and she'd sort it out. After all, these were the Four Founders' relics. A mere Horcrux wouldn't baffle one of them. Otherwise, she wouldn't deserve her place among the Four Founders.
Erwin cleared his mind and resolved to fetch the diadem tomorrow. He burned with genuine curiosity about the Founders' era—a time of unparalleled brilliance. What secrets had they bequeathed? Forbidden spells? Potent elixirs?
With those thoughts swirling, he drifted off.
The next morning, a knock jolted Erwin awake. He grabbed his wand from the bedside and flicked it open.
A streak of platinum blond dashed inside.
Erwin yawned. "Draco, what brings you here so early?"
"Good morning, Prefect," Draco said. "I have a few questions."
Erwin sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Shoot."
Draco hesitated. "Do you know someone named Nicolas Flamel?"
Erwin's sleepiness vanished in a flash. Malfoy stepping into Ron's old role? This was a twist.
"Where'd you hear that name?" Erwin asked.
Draco recounted the last two days' events in detail: the whispers about a three-headed dog guarding something on the third floor, Hagrid's slip about Fluffy, and the suspicion of a thief targeting whatever lay beneath.
Erwin pieced it together. His meddling had derailed much of the original scheme, yet Harry had still stumbled onto that forbidden corridor—thanks to the castle's mischievous moving staircases. He'd overheard Hagrid mention Fluffy and pieced together a potential robbery, though Draco's presence had steered blame away from Snape. No clear suspect emerged.
Erwin nearly chuckled. Without Dumbledore's nudge, Harry might have bypassed the Stone entirely. This smacked of the Headmaster's orchestration—the staircases were quirky, but they didn't deliberately funnel students into danger or disrupt classes without his say-so.
Still, Erwin welcomed the momentum. Deviations could unravel everything later, and he had plans hinging on the plot's steady progression.
"Nicolas Flamel was a legendary alchemist," Erwin explained. "He created the Philosopher's Stone—it turns base metals to gold and brews the Elixir of Life for immortality. For more details, chat with Hermione. Her knowledge dwarfs yours. Catch her during morning study; she'll have answers in no time."
Draco nodded. "Understood, Prefect. I'll ask Miss Granger straightaway."
Erwin beamed inwardly. This was his handiwork—a Malfoy who actually listened. So gratifying.
"Off you go," he said, waving him out. "I'll meet you downstairs."
"Yes, Prefect." Draco bowed and exited.
Erwin freshened up quickly, smoothing his rumpled robes. He glanced in the mirror, a pleased smile tugging at his lips, then stepped out.
A cluster of shadow prefects, Charlotte among them, waited in the corridor.
"Good morning, Prefect," they chorused, bowing.
Erwin nodded. "Morning, everyone. Let's make this a brilliant day."