Professor McGonagall shook her head. "No, but legend has it there's a monster inside that can only be controlled by the Slytherins. Alright, that's the end of the story. Let's continue the lesson."
The class wrapped up soon after. Erwin left the Transfiguration classroom alongside the Slytherins, cradling Ebony in his arms.
As he walked, Erwin mulled over a nagging oversight. He'd planned to let the Chamber of Secrets leak out, stirring up some chaos to heighten awareness of the threat and give everyone a chance to sharpen their defenses. But he'd forgotten one crucial detail: besides him, no one else at Hogwarts was truly fit to claim Slytherin's legacy.
He'd boxed himself in.
Draco, meanwhile, had wandered off to join Hermione and Harry Potter. The three huddled together in a quiet corner.
Draco leaned in. "Hermione, you know about the Chamber of Secrets?"
She nodded. "Of course. I asked Professor Flitwick about it in Charms."
Draco pressed on. "Who do you reckon opened it?"
Hermione shrugged. "No idea. But whatever's in there sounds extraordinary—and dangerous."
Harry hesitated. "What if it's Mr. Erwin?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be daft, Draco. If it were Erwin, he wouldn't bother with the Chamber. We all know his character; his pride wouldn't let him stoop to endangering students like that. Honestly, I'm skeptical of the legend itself. Salazar Slytherin might've favored pure-bloods, but threatening young lives? I doubt it."
Harry and Draco exchanged glances and nodded. Hermione had a point.
"Then who?" Draco wondered aloud. "I can't see anyone but the Headmaster fitting the bill."
They all murmured agreement. Draco's logic held up.
The trio shared a helpless look. This investigation was turning into a nightmare.
Draco waved it off. "Never mind that now. Even if someone's cracked it open, Dumbledore will sort it. Hey, I've got news: I'm joining the Slytherin Quidditch team as Seeker. Harry, that makes us rivals."
Harry blinked, puzzled. "I hadn't heard Slytherin needed a new Seeker. How'd you snag it?"
Draco grinned smugly. "Easy. The old one's exam was coming up, and Prefect Marcus was scouting internally. But I got my father to kit the whole team out with Nimbus 2001s. Boom—I'm the new Seeker."
Hermione snorted. "So you bought your way in?"
Draco shrugged unapologetically. "What's wrong with that? It's efficient. The Headmaster always says no one cares about the method, just the outcome. And now we're all on Nimbus 2001s—Gryffindor won't stand a chance. We'll dominate Quidditch this year."
Harry smirked. "Brooms don't win matches. It's down to skill—and snatching the Snitch."
Draco's eyes lit up. "I'm plenty skilled, Harry. Can't wait to face you on the pitch."
"Bring it," Harry shot back with a laugh.
Hermione watched the two, brimming with boyish energy, and stifled a sigh. She hated to burst their bubble, but thanks to Erwin's suggestion, Quidditch's quirks had irked him enough to pitch a replacement: the Cavendish family's Wizarding Duels. The professors were mulling it over, and approval seemed likely.
Poor Draco would be gutted when he heard.
She cut in gently. "Enough. Lunchtime in the Great Hall. I'm knackered—Herbology this afternoon with Professor Sprout, and who knows what odd plants she'll unleash on us."
Harry and Draco nodded, falling into step beside her.
The Great Hall buzzed with chatter as Erwin entered, only to hush abruptly. Whispers about the Chamber had swept through Hogwarts like Fiendfyre, pinning the blame squarely on him. Every professor had vouched for his innocence, insisting he'd never stoop so low. But suspicion lingered—Slytherin's heir had to come from Slytherin House, and among them, only Erwin carried the weight to inherit the Chamber.
He slid into his seat, stroking Ebony absentmindedly as house-elves served lunch. The wary stares from the other houses bounced off him like Reparo spells. As Pansy had pointed out, if he wanted anyone dead, why bother with a monster? His own power could level the school.
Students were gullible that way—easy to spook, easy to mislead, and all too often, utterly dim.
After the meal, Erwin carried Ebony toward the Black Lake for a leisurely stroll, letting the food settle. Charlotte trailed a step behind.
"Sir," she said quietly, "word's spreading fast. The other three houses are convinced you're behind the Chamber."
Erwin nodded, unfazed. "Expected as much. It's not something you can talk your way out of. Even if I waved proof under their noses, it wouldn't stick—I'm the only one here who seems heir material. If you didn't know better, you'd think the same, wouldn't you?"
Charlotte inclined her head. "Absolutely, sir. Only you qualify."
He chuckled. "Then it's settled. No need to fret."
She pressed on. "One more thing: about swapping Quidditch for Wizarding Duels, Professor McGonagall wanted me to relay that she'll raise it at tomorrow's dinner. Full student vote to decide."
Erwin waved a hand. "Fine. You sort the details."
Charlotte acknowledged with a nod. Things were falling into place just as she'd hoped. She'd stepped up as his secretary, and Erwin had pinned great expectations on her—mostly because he loathed the tedium of administration.
He passed Ebony to her. Stretching toward the lake's glassy surface, he added, "Charlotte, keep an eye on our golden trio of saviors. They won't risk approaching me now."
...
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