Cassandra tilted her head, her voice tentative. "So, what will you do next?"
Erwin shrugged. "Nothing at all. The Roberts family won't dare challenge them outright. If they can't handle a few minor setbacks, they're worthless anyway. Protecting their heirs will suffice. Without value, their existence means little."
Cassandra nodded sharply. "Understood, sir."
"Remember this, Cassandra," Erwin continued, his tone steady. "As a Slytherin, always prioritize self-interest. In this world, nothing lasts forever except what's in it for you. Those who offer no benefit have no place. And if you ever stop being useful to me, I'll cast you aside without a second thought."
Her heart raced, but she kept her composure. "Yes, sir. I'll prove my worth every day."
Erwin reached out and patted her head gently, like soothing a skittish kitten. She froze under his touch.
"Don't forget," he added. "If I ever fail to benefit you, feel free to turn on me. Betrayal's just part of the game."
Horror flashed in her eyes. "No, my lord—I'd never!"
He chuckled dryly. "There are no 'nevers' in this world. Alliances built on gain shatter when bigger rewards appear. Charisma's a myth. That's why we both need to keep our value high—shared interests bind tighter than any oath."
Cassandra fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.
To Erwin, loyalty was a transaction, nothing more. He trusted only the Cavendish family and his godfather, Snape, without reservation. Everyone else? Tools bound by convenience. If they fell, he'd feel no remorse. Gain-seekers made the swiftest traitors, and he knew it all too well.
"Right," Erwin said, shifting gears. "We need to return to England immediately. No flying this time—I'll Apparate us."
She nodded without protest. The distance from America to Britain was vast; even for Erwin, with his formidable magic and reserve sources, it meant several jumps. Most wizards opted for Floo or Portkeys for such trips, but he pressed on.
By afternoon, they touched down in Diagon Alley. Cassandra bid him farewell and headed home. Erwin summoned Old Tom and issued crisp orders: Dispatch loyal Cavendish members to America. Make contact with the Roberts—serve as their shield. He'd already assured the family they could act boldly there. Provoke if needed; the Cavendishes would back them. If lives dropped or comforts faded, hunt the culprits. Recklessness was fine—the family had their backs.
Old Tom grasped the intent: stir trouble, send expendables. No family ties, utter devotion only. In wizarding lore, they'd be branded quislings—traitors for a cause.
As Old Tom departed to arrange it, he paused. "Master, Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban."
Erwin's eyes gleamed. "You caught him?"
"At the landing points, yes. Nabbed him the instant he appeared."
A cold glint crossed Erwin's face. "Break his legs. Give him a taste of real agony—then release him."
"Consider it done, Master."
"Go on. I'm off to Hogwarts."
Old Tom vanished on his tasks. Erwin Apparated straight to the castle, materializing in Snape's office amid the sharp tang of simmering potions.
Snape glanced up from his cauldron, eyebrow arched. "What dragged you back so urgently?"
Erwin wasted no time, pulling out the pouch of seeds from the Roberts. "This."
Snape accepted it warily, peering inside. "And these are?"
Erwin recounted their origin and effects—the surge in magical reserves, the Robert family's guarded cultivation.
Snape's brow furrowed as he inspected a few. "Can't identify them from seeds alone. My Herbology's solid, but not for this. See Professor Sprout; she's unmatched in the field. Still..." He paused, rubbing his chin. "From your description of the boost, I'd wager it's Magic-Boosting Herb. Only that fits. But confirmation needs her eye."
Erwin's pulse quickened. "If it's Magic-Enhancing Herb, this is a goldmine. Key ingredient for Magic-Enhancing Potions."
Snape nodded. "Precisely. I could brew it—the rest are substitutable. But this herb? Irreplaceable."
"Handle it for now, Godfather. Ask Sprout to check when you see her. I can't reach her myself."
"Of course. I'll track her down soon."
Erwin hesitated, then added, "One more thing. I'm heading out to sea. Time to pinpoint that Isle of Avalon."
Snape's expression darkened. "The ethereal one you mentioned? Is it worth the risk?"
"Got time on my hands. Patriarch Robert sketched a map; Vinda pried a route from Grindelwald. Merged, they point roughly true. I have to try."
Snape sighed, weighing his words. "Fine. But your power matches mine now—little I can do from here. If it sours, retreat at once. No heroics."
...
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