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On the other side of the castle, Hermione burst into the Gryffindor common room and rushed over to Harry and Ron.
The two boys were engaged in a game of wizard chess.
Ron was thoroughly demolishing Harry's forces, moving pieces with confident efficiency while Harry's army fell into complete disarray.
Harry's chess pieces kept offering him contradictory advice due to his poor strategic choices, each piece talking over the others until the cacophony of voices became utterly overwhelming.
The moment Harry spotted Hermione approaching, he quickly swept his hand across the board, knocking down all the pieces in frustration.
Then he looked up at her expectantly.
"What happened, Hermione? Does Erwin know who Nicolas Flamel is?"
Hermione took a few seconds to breathe.
"I ran too quickly. Need to catch my breath."
Hermione explained.
"Erwin knows exactly who Nicolas Flamel is, and he's already told me everything."
Hearing this revelation, Harry's attention shifted immediately, and Ron leaned in with obvious interest as well.
Both boys had originally agreed they should simply ask Erwin about it directly from the start.
After all, Erwin and Harry shared a good relationship.
Unlike Hermione, Erwin's homework could always be easily referenced when needed.
Moreover, Harry believed that Snape constantly targeted Erwin during Potions class, though in reality, the professor was actually providing additional instruction.
Combined with the fact that both had grown up in the Muggle world and shared certain common experiences, Erwin was arguably Harry's best friend at Hogwarts besides Ron.
As for Ron, he didn't have a particularly close relationship with Erwin personally, but Erwin maintained an excellent friendship with his twin brothers.
Ron frequently saw Fred and George spending time with Erwin, who always seemed to be at the center of their mischief.
Having been teased by the twins since childhood, Ron felt both admiration and a touch of intimidation toward someone who could not only keep pace with his brothers but often took the lead in their schemes.
The only one who had disagreed with this approach was Hermione.
She hadn't wanted to rely on Erwin for everything; she'd been determined to solve the mystery herself and impress him with her independent capabilities.
The strong-willed young witch had been practically living in the library, frantically searching for any information about Nicolas Flamel.
This was why the search for Flamel's identity had dragged on until now.
Harry and Ron could no longer tolerate the delay.
If they waited much longer, Snape might complete whatever evil plan he was concocting.
Through persistent persuasion, Hermione had finally been convinced today, which had led to the scene in the corridor moments ago.
Hermione proceeded to repeat everything Erwin had told her to the other two boys, adding her own deductions along the way.
Harry and Ron became thoroughly convinced that Snape was indeed after the Philosopher's Stone.
However, none of this particularly concerned Erwin.
He only needed to appear at the crucial final moment and attempt to secure the Philosopher's Stone for himself.
Nothing more.
****
December 24th arrived.
The heavy snow that had been falling relentlessly the previous day had finally ceased.
The castle had been closed for the holidays for some time now, and those students who'd remained at Hogwarts for Christmas had grown restless with indoor confinement. They'd rushed outside to play in the fresh snow.
Growing tired of his studies, Erwin had also decided to take a walk and clear his mind.
He'd been immersed in Snape's Potions notes recently, and the professor was truly worthy of being called a Potions Master of his generation.
That notebook contained not merely Snape's experiences as a student, but he had continued modifying and updating the content throughout his life.
It represented Snape's lifetime of accumulated knowledge and innovation.
Stepping outside, Erwin discovered that the students had already begun their activities.
Some were engaged in snowball fights, while others constructed elaborate snowmen.
But the magical world's approach to winter recreation differed significantly from that of the Muggle world.
With a simple flick of the wand, a dozen small snowballs materialized instantly, then launched themselves at opponents without any need for physical throwing.
A single wizard could hurl multiple snowballs simultaneously.
What had begun as playful exchanges between a few people had somehow evolved into something resembling pitched warfare between opposing armies.
"Whoosh!"
A barrage of snowballs suddenly came flying toward him.
Unable to dodge in time, Erwin drew his wand and cast a defensive spell directly.
"[Protego]!"
The dozen snowballs struck an invisible barrier and fell harmlessly to the ground.
Looking toward the direction from which the attack had originated, he spotted the Weasley twins standing there, waving their wands as they created more snowballs while laughing at him mischievously.
"You're cheating. No using magical defenses," one of them called out.
Erwin felt his competitive spirit rise. Fighting two opponents at once without magic, that hardly seemed fair.
"Two against one, hardly seems fair, yeah?"
Without even withdrawing his wand, he pointed his finger at the snow-covered ground.
The snow rapidly gathered into a massive clump, then divided itself into dozens, then hundreds, of fist-sized snowballs.
Erwin deliberately compressed them to increase their density and hardness.
He flashed the now-dumbfounded twins a wicked smile.
"Hehe,"
The snowballs launched themselves forward in a devastating volley, pelting Fred and George from multiple angles simultaneously.
The twins were forced to retreat in hasty disorder, and within moments, they'd erected a makeshift white flag to signal surrender.
"We surrender."
Erwin ceased his assault.
He'd only wanted to engage in some spontaneous fun with the twins on a whim.
After releasing them from his snowball barrage, he simply sat down nearby and observed as several younger witches worked on building a snow castle.
They were constructing a miniature replica of Hogwarts itself, and the resemblance was remarkably accurate.
After a while, Erwin began to feel the cold settling into his bones.
"Time to go,"
Just as he prepared to return inside, his attention was caught by an unexpected sight.
Professor Quirrell, who must have emerged from the castle at some unknown point, was being chased by the twins and pelted with snowballs.
The brothers were deliberately aiming for the scarf wrapped around his head.
Quirrell stumbled about under the assault, his hands clutching desperately at the back of his turban to keep it secure.
Erwin shook his head in bemusement.
'Quirrell is such a fool. Why doesn't he simply use a defensive spell?'
Or perhaps Voldemort feared that using magic too freely might allow Dumbledore to detect some anomaly, and had ordered Quirrell to minimize his spellcasting.
Still, the Weasley twins were truly ruthless, chasing down and bombarding Voldemort himself with snowballs to the face.
This had to rank among the pinnacle moments of the twins' lives.
No wonder even with only one twin surviving in the end, this would remain one of the Dark Lord's more embarrassing moments.
Fortunately, after a short while, Filch came rushing over from a distance.
The twins recognized trouble approaching and fled immediately.
"Professor Quirrell, are you alright?" Filch helped the fallen professor to his feet and carefully brushed snow from his robes.
"I'm... I'm f-fine..."
Quirrell stammered in response, his voice trembling violently.
"Fool! Why didn't you use magic? Has your brain been eaten by trolls?!"
Voldemort's voice snarled inside Quirrell's head, careful to remain inaudible to Filch's ears.
"Master... I... I was afraid of compromising your plans," Quirrell responded mentally, his thoughts saturated with fear.
"Are you certain you're unharmed, Professor Quirrell? Though those troublemakers have escaped, their distinctive red hair gave them away completely!"
"Don't worry, I'll report them to Professor McGonagall immediately and see that they receive proper detention."
Filch declared this with absolute conviction.
Quirrell managed a few weak responses before hurrying away as quickly as he could manage.
Seeing that the entertainment had concluded, Erwin decided there was nothing more worth observing.
He turned and headed back toward the castle entrance.