In a remarkably short time, the Selwyn family had gathered over a hundred wizards. This tally excluded their own longstanding members, focusing solely on the wandering wizards who had publicly sworn allegiance. Even allies like the Malfoy and Parkinson families were quietly unnerved by the rapid expansion.
Erwin's strategy was ruthless and swift, leaving rivals reeling. In raw numbers, the Selwyns now commanded the largest wizarding force in Britain—a position no one had anticipated so soon.
Erwin, however, remained unflappable. He'd foreseen this from the start. These old pure-blood houses underestimated the value of a loyal base, but he didn't. His every move had built toward this moment. Less than a year in, he'd achieved what others couldn't in decades. Luck played a part, but the true edge came from his rivals' complacency. Their arrogance had handed him the advantage on a silver platter.
By the time the bumbling Minister of Magic caught on, it was too late. The Selwyns were untouchable, and he lived in constant fear of reprisal. Fortunately for him, Erwin had no designs on the Ministry. Instead, the family turned to Diagon Alley.
Centering on their Magical Supplies shop, they snapped up five or six adjacent stores. Renovations began immediately, though no one knew why. Wizards passing through the alley couldn't miss the scaffolding and hammering—the Selwyns' latest enigma.
At Erwin's direction, the Daily Prophet ran stories on the project every other day, stoking speculation and keeping the mystery alive. Whispers spread: What were they building?
The weeks blurred by, and Christmas arrived with a vengeance.
Erwin awoke to a winter wonderland, snow blanketing the grounds overnight. He sipped coffee by the frost-laced window, watching first-years bundled against the cold pelt each other with snowballs by the Black Lake. The castle looked enchanted under the fresh white shroud, serene and timeless.
The Great Hall felt emptier than usual at breakfast. Most students had gone home for the short holiday—precious time away from classes and looming exams. Erwin lingered over his meal, savoring the quiet.
Afterward, he wrapped a scarf around his neck and strolled along the lake's edge, the crisp air clearing his head. In the distance, the new trio—Draco, Harry, and Hermione—jogged toward him, breaths puffing in the chill.
He paused to wait. They arrived flushed and gasping.
"You lot need more than token efforts at exercise," Erwin said with a grin. "Wizards aren't invincible without strong bodies. What's got you running?"
The three shared uneasy looks. Draco spoke first. "Chief, it's serious. We've got news."
Erwin raised an eyebrow. "Out with it, then."
Harry jumped in before Draco could elaborate. "Mr. Erwin, someone's after the Philosopher's Stone. I'm sure of it."
Erwin nodded calmly. "Go on—tell me why you think that."
Harry glanced at Hermione, who took over. "We learned about Nicolas Flamel and the Stone. It's guarded by a three-headed dog—Hagrid's pet, Fluffy. Only Hagrid knows how to get past it, and someone's already pried that information out of him."
Erwin's expression stayed neutral. "And?"
Hermione pressed on. "We think they're after immortality. But we can't figure out who."
"So why come to me?" Erwin asked.
"Dumbledore's away," Hermione said. "If it's a professor or someone trusted, only you can stop them. The Stone can't fall into the wrong hands."
Erwin chuckled softly. "You're spot on about the danger. But I'm sitting this one out."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Why? Stealing it would be unforgivable!"
"Your logic holds," Erwin replied, "but you've missed the obvious: This is Hogwarts. No one's waltzing off with the Stone under the staff's noses. Your initiative's admirable—I won't meddle. Chase the truth if you must; I won't stand in your way."
The trio exchanged frustrated glances.
"But what if we're outmatched?" Hermione asked.
Erwin's tone sharpened. "That's your challenge. Bravery alone won't cut it. If you're pursuing answers, be prepared to handle the consequences. When you're out of your depth, ask for help. Who can you turn to?"
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving them by the lake.
Draco scratched his head. "What was that supposed to mean?"
Harry shrugged. Hermione's brow furrowed in thought.
"I think I know," she said finally. "Draco, check the Slytherin common room—see who's still here. Harry, do the same in Gryffindor. I'll round up the professors."
They nodded, though puzzled, trusting her instincts. The three split off, vanishing into the snow-dusted grounds.
Erwin watched from afar, a faint smile tugging at his lips. How delightfully predictable. He hoped Dumbledore would appreciate the "gift" he'd arranged—a real-world lesson disguised as peril.
This was prime training ground for the young ones, exposing their gaps and sparking a hunger for power. All while advancing his plans.
The wizarding world had grown complacent in its peace. Erwin's sparks had kindled interest, but not enough fire. Chaos bred heroes, forced allegiances, and clarified enemies. It served his vision perfectly.
A scheme half a month in the making was reaching its climax. The players were in place; now, Erwin would raise the curtain.
Today, Hogwarts would become the Selwyns' forge—a sprawling base for military might. Success hinged on this performance being flawless.
He snapped his fingers. With a soft crack, he Apparated away, leaving only footprints in the snow.
...
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