Erwin shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hagrid. I know you're reluctant, but there's nothing I can do. You have to understand—at the rate Norbert's growing, he'll be enormous in half a month. Your little hut won't hold him then. His instincts will drive him to hunt in the Forbidden Forest. Even if I could restrain him, it's no long-term fix. You don't want the other creatures there suffering, do you?"
Hagrid lowered his head, his massive shoulders slumping. "I understand, Erwin."
Erwin nodded. "Half a month from now, on Christmas Eve, most young witches and wizards will head home. With fewer students around Hogwarts, it won't draw much notice. I'll arrange for someone to come to your hut and collect Norbert."
Unlike the original tale, Erwin didn't need Harry, Hermione, and their friends to smuggle the dragon to the highest tower. He could simply invoke certain Hogwarts privileges to have handlers fetch it directly from Hagrid's doorstep. If time allowed, he could even scout the dragon sanctuary first and Apparate back with Norbert in tow—but he wasn't that idle.
After covering a few loose ends with Hagrid, Erwin spent a moment teasing the hatchling. He sternly forbade Norbert from trailing after him, insisting the dragon behave for the next two weeks. Once he had its reluctant agreement, Erwin ushered the new trio away from the hut.
On the path back to the castle, Draco fidgeted, clearly bursting to speak. Erwin cut in before he could dither. "Out with it, Draco. No beating around the bush."
The boy straightened. "Headmaster, why didn't Hagrid budge when Harry, Hermione, and I tried persuading him for ages? But you just... told him what would happen, and he agreed without a fight!"
Hermione and Harry, lingering nearby, shot Erwin curious glances.
He paused and turned to face them. "It's simple, really. Hagrid knows you're looking out for him, but his love for magical creatures runs deeper than you can imagine. He'd go half-mad for them—it's his one true passion. So even if he sees you're right, he can't bear parting with a chance to raise a dragon."
Draco and the others leaned in, attentive.
"As for why he listens to me," Erwin continued, "it's because he trusts my judgment. He knows I understand more than he does and can find the best way forward. I'm not taking his dream away—I'm letting him live it for half a month. And he realizes that as long as he keeps Norbert inside Hogwarts bounds, I'll handle any fallout. No one will trouble him in that time."
The three exchanged thoughtful looks, absorbing his words.
Erwin pressed on. "Trust comes from proving you can solve problems. You weren't persuading Hagrid—you were offering him a plan he could believe in because I backed it with real authority. So remember this, all of you: Build the skills to fix what's broken. That's why you're pushing so hard already."
He left it there. For children their age, it was lesson enough—profound, but not overwhelming. They'd need time to mull it over, and growth came from guidance plus trial and error. Erwin could share principles, but their grasp depended on them.
These three showed promise. Draco, for all his spoiled air in the old stories, was no fool. He wasn't just some brat crying to his father; he hailed from generations of pure-blood excellence. The Malfoy world—high society, sharp politics—was light-years from a common child's. As the old wizarding adage went, three generations built a merchant house, five a noble one, and nine a true dynasty. It wasn't mere galleons; it was the polish of elite education. Erwin saw real potential in him, not empty flattery. Draco had a role waiting in his grander designs.
Hermione's sharp mind soaked up ideas like a sponge, even if her youth limited full insight. Erwin had sown the seed; it would grow.
Harry, the so-called savior, might seem a bit thick-headed and charmingly naive in those tales, but hardship had forged something rare in him: resilience. Poor families raised tough kids early, and after his ordeals, Harry had an unyielding core. Talent was innate, sure, but success demanded honing—and as the tale of any child prodigy who squandered their gifts showed, trials mattered more than raw promise. Resilience, above all, was hard-won through misfortune. It defined true potential.
Erwin didn't scorn the boy; with proper shaping, Harry could soar. That's why he bothered mentoring them—they were raw talent worth molding. He always cast a wide net; even one catching the high road to glory made it worthwhile.
Leaving the trio to their thoughts, Erwin headed straight for the Slytherin common room. Duties piled up; he couldn't dawdle. Settling at his desk, he leaned back, eyes closing for a brief respite.
Time slipped by. Before long, the afternoon light had faded past five.
Erwin stirred, standing to stretch. "About time."
As if on cue, Old Tom reached out. "Master Erwin, everyone's assembled."
He breathed out, tension easing. Now the real game truly began.
...
With that said, guys—today's 10 chapters have been published! I'm holding up my end of the bargain because you guys are amazing.
If you love these mass releases, make sure to SMASH THAT POWERSTONE!
NEXT TARGET: RANK #10!
— MrGrim