Erwin eyed the burly gakeeper with suspicion, wondering what Hagrid was scheming this ti. The half-giant lumbered to a nearby cabinet and pulled out an oval object swathed in cloth. Erwin’s eyes narrowed—it looked all too familiar.
Bloody hell. Could it be that dragon? Norbert?
Hagrid set the egg on the table and whipped off the wrapping. "A Norwegian Ridgeback egg? Hagrid, where on earth did you get this?"
The gakeeper scratched his wild beard, grinning like a kid with a new toy. "Knew you’d spot it, Erwin! Won it in a bet at the Hog’s Head a while back. Impressive, eh?"
Erwin stared, at a loss for words. No surprise there—even half-giant blood couldn’t save Hagrid from a dodgy impulse buy. "Obvious as day, and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker. But now that this egg’s hatched your interest, it ans Voldemort’s already stirring the pot. Earlier than in the books, too. Maybe because Dumbledore’s off gallivanting."
Hagrid bead. "I’ve been sittin’ on this little fella for weeks, but I can’t figure out how to hatch it. You ntioned last ti you’ve got a knack for magical creatures—fancy helpin’?"
Erwin nodded. "Sure. All dragons brood the sa way: the mother breathes fire on the eggs to keep ’em warm. They’re dead sensitive to heat, and it feeds the hatchling’s magic through the shell."
Hagrid’s eyes widened. "That explains it! But won’t the flas crack the egg?"
"Not a chance," Erwin replied. "Dragons are the toughest with fire—phoenixes aside."
Hagrid nodded eagerly. "Got it. Cheers, Erwin—you’re a lifesaver!"
Erwin waved it off. "No bother. But listen, Hagrid, dragons as pets? Strictly off-limits in the wizarding world. You’ll land in hot water."
The gakeeper’s face fell, but only for a mont. "I know, I know. But havin’ my own dragon... it’s a dream, y’know? Can’t just chuck it."
Erwin sighed. "Fair enough—I get the pull. We’ll cross that bridge when we co to it. Norwegian Ridgebacks grow fast, though—full size in a month. Your hut won’t cut it. I’ll sort sothing out then; that’s the best I can promise. And don’t even think about stashing it in the Forbidden Forest like your Acromantula. Hogwarts couldn’t handle a dragon; one adult eats enough to decimate the unicorn herd."
Hagrid deflated, shoulders slumping. He was clearly gutted.
Erwin clapped him on the back. "Look on the bright side: you’ll see it hatch. Most folks never get that chance."
The words sparked a light in Hagrid’s eyes. "You’re right! That’s plenty for . Won’t drag Hogwarts into my ss."
Erwin smiled. "Good man. I’m off—take care of that egg. I’ll find it a proper ho, and you can visit. I’ve got the pull for it."
"Never doubted you, lad," Hagrid rumbled.
Erwin slipped out of the hut, a sly grin tugging at his lips as the door clicked shut. Fascinating—Hagrid coming to him for help. That spoke volus about the trust he’d built.
It might not top Harry’s spot in the old man’s heart, but it was solid groundwork. Trust like that? Gold for leverage. Especially with sothing this shady. The dragon bond would be Hagrid’s Achilles’ heel, and he’d handed Erwin the reins without a second thought.
He blinked back a spark of amusent. What a day. Even a half-giant like Hagrid had his uses.
Friendship? Erwin didn’t set much store by it. People fell into two camps: tools or threats. The useless ones? Straight to the threats pile. Sentint was for fools; carving out your own path mattered more.
Back in his room, Erwin fished the flip phone from his enchanted ring. Ti to tackle the real work—sothing to revolutionize the wizarding world. He couldn’t deny it: deep down, he relished playing the benefactor.
Noble, that.
First up: the Communication Rune. He drew his wand, pressing it to the phone’s back. The rune blood faintly... then the surface shuddered as magic rippled across it.
Erwin frowned, channeling more power to stabilize it. The phone quieted.
Odd. Maybe the Muggle tech couldn’t handle the surge? He dialed back the output this ti, and the rune etched cleanly.
Next, the Whispering Charm inscription—no hiccups.
There it was: the wizarding world’s first enchanted phone.
Satisfied, Erwin examined it. A promising start, but hurdles remained. Chief among them: assigning "numbers."
He’d cracked it already—the telepathic spell could capture unique magical signatures. Link those signatures to a central charm, and dialing would bridge them seamlessly. Dial the charm, ping the signature, connect.
Complicated? Sure. But doable in theory. Now to make it practice.
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