Erwin's eyes lit up. At last! Norbert had finally arrived—the perfect boost for his magical creature egg.
Thanks to Hagrid's relentless efforts, the egg's hatching progress had reached an impressive 65 percent. But the Forbidden Forest's beasts were running low on blood samples; there simply weren't enough magical creatures there to keep things moving. This Norwegian Ridgeback would push it even closer to breaking free.
Erwin couldn't wait. He'd invested a fair bit of hope in this egg—though, truth be told, most of the legwork had fallen to Hagrid. What mattered now was that Erwin desperately wanted a proper pet. Fusing the essence of a hundred beasts? It might just yield something legendary, like a mythical guardian straight out of wizarding lore.
"I know," Erwin said calmly. "I already told Hagrid. I'll head to his hut soon. If you two want to join, meet me there."
Draco and Harry's lingering worries evaporated at his words. "Right, we're off!" they chorused, turning to dash away.
"Hold on, Harry—give us a minute. I've got something to discuss with Draco."
Harry shrugged and slipped out without a fuss.
Alone now, Draco shifted uneasily, as if bracing for a reprimand. He looked like a cornered kneazle.
"Relax," Erwin said, gesturing to a stool. "Sit."
Draco perched awkwardly. "I heard Pansy gave you a right thrashing?"
Draco flushed, avoiding his gaze. "I... I got careless, that's all."
Erwin's expression hardened. "Careless? In a duel, Draco, no one's handing out second chances. One slip can end you—I've drilled that into you enough times."
Draco hung his head. "Sorry, sir."
"You don't owe me the apology," Erwin replied. "I get it—you and Harry are off on your little escapade. But that's no excuse to slack on your training. I've got big plans for you, Draco. Don't make me regret it."
Draco stayed silent, chastened.
"I'll have Grodia set up extra combat sessions," Erwin continued. "Before the holidays, I'll test you myself. Fail to measure up, and you know what's next."
Draco nodded vigorously, straight-backed now. "Understood, sir. I won't let you down."
Erwin's stern look softened. "Good. Now, spill—how far along is this 'adventure' of yours with Harry?"
Draco brightened, launching into the tale with eager detail. "Harry and I tracked down the Philosopher's Stone. We couldn't figure out who might nick it, though. We ran it by Dumbledore, but he reckoned we were jumping at shadows. Harry's still on edge about it."
Erwin nodded thoughtfully. He just needed to gauge how deep they'd dug—and if it risked derailing things. Swapping Ron for Draco hadn't changed much; the golden trio—now with Hermione in tow—hadn't pinned it on Snape, at least.
"Fair enough," Erwin said. "Carry on, then. But remember: no matter what, keep your marks up. You've slipped in the Slytherin rankings already. Everyone knows I've backed you—don't embarrass me."
"Got it, sir. I'll sort it," Draco promised, before hurrying out.
Erwin didn't bolt for Hagrid's right away. Instead, he pulled out the notebook he'd pocketed earlier. No clue who its owner was, but flipping through it now, his pulse quickened.
Blimey—this was gold. Pages crammed with meticulous notes on herbology, right down to potion recipes and cultivation tricks. The yellowed cover screamed age; could this be Helga Hufflepuff's own handiwork?
Even if not, it belonged to some Hufflepuff prodigy. The insights were razor-sharp—different angles on things Erwin had glimpsed in his Ravenclaw days, plus practical tips that could sharpen his edge. As the godson of a Potions Master, he'd hate to look like a dunce in that subject.
He skimmed a few entries, then tucked it away. Time to claim his prize. A dragon companion? That promised some real excitement.
With a snap of his fingers, Erwin Apparated to the Forbidden Forest's edge. Hagrid's hut loomed just ahead. He knocked briskly.
"Who's there?" Hagrid's gruff voice rumbled, laced with caution.
"It's me, Hagrid—Erwin."
The door flew open, Hagrid's beaming face filling the frame. "Erwin! About time—I've been on pins and needles. Haven't properly congratulated you on becoming Heir of Slytherin yet, have I? Even You-Know-Who couldn't pull that off. You're a legend!"
Erwin grinned. "Cheers, Hagrid. Mind if I step in?"
"Course not—come on!" Hagrid swung the door wide.
Inside, the reconfigured trio—Draco, Harry, and Hermione—leaped to their feet. "Heir of Slytherin! You made it!"
Erwin nodded. "At ease, everyone."
Hagrid shut the door. Erwin scanned the cramped space—no empty chairs in sight—so he stayed standing. "Hagrid, could I take a look at your dragon?"
"No trouble at all," Hagrid boomed. "Hang on—I stashed him in the back. Didn't reckon you'd show so quick!"
He shoved open the door to the tiny side room. Instantly, a jet of flame streaked toward his face.
Hagrid yelped, flinching back.
Erwin's wand flicked out, snaring the blaze mid-air and hurling it harmlessly into the fireplace. Sparks danced up the chimney.
Hagrid exhaled shakily. "Ta, Erwin. That little terror's got some fire in him already!"
"It's in their blood," Erwin said. "Dragons aren't lapdogs—they're apex predators. This one's just a hatchling, and its flames are feeble now. But give it time? One breath could torch this hut, maybe the whole Forest. That's why they're banned as pets: too bloody dangerous."
The trio exchanged wide-eyed glances, while Norbert—curled in a nest of singed blankets—snuffled curiously, his scales glinting like molten gold. Erwin felt a thrill; this beast's essence would supercharge the egg. Hatching day couldn't come soon enough.