All Lucius could do was follow Erwin's directives precisely and trust in the protection he'd been promised.
No matter what ultimately transpired in the unfolding power struggle, Erwin would protect the Malfoy family as agreed.
Most immediately satisfying, this arson operation was something Lucius genuinely enjoyed on a visceral level. It had been far too long since he'd been permitted to cast destructive spells so recklessly without consequences.
He'd taken particular pleasure in burning down the tent cluster belonging to the Weasley family, whom he despised most intensely in the entire British wizarding community.
Even though Erwin's broader reforms had already dramatically improved conditions throughout magical Britain, Lucius's personal hatred for Arthur Weasley hadn't diminished even slightly.
Even when Erwin had diplomatically invited all notable wizarding families to a formal reconciliation gathering recently, Lucius and Arthur had still ended up in a physical altercation.
Admittedly, they'd had enough sense to wait until after departing Cavendish Manor before actually fighting, presumably thinking Erwin wouldn't notice their breach of his hospitality.
In reality, Erwin had been hovering invisibly in the sky that evening, munching popcorn while watching the entire embarrassing brawl unfold below.
It had to be acknowledged—Lucius was becoming increasingly cunning and ruthless with age. He'd even resorted to a deliberate groin strike at one point, showing absolutely no aristocratic restraint.
Arthur had reportedly spent considerable time recovering in St. Mungo's Hospital afterward.
The very first thing Arthur did upon being discharged was attempt to hunt down Lucius for lethal retaliation. Only Molly's forceful physical intervention had prevented the two middle-aged wizards from genuinely fighting to the death over their absurd rivalry.
Erwin didn't particularly care about their ridiculous personal feud one way or another.
As long as neither of them failed catastrophically at crucial operational moments, they could nurse their petty grudges indefinitely. If they did fail when it mattered, the pawns would be useless and could be discarded without sentiment.
Lucius straightened his robes. "I'm relocating to a different section now—you can continue wandering around by yourself if you wish."
Erwin nodded acknowledgment. "Understood. I'm going to locate Barty Crouch Jr. directly. If you encounter him during your operations, please direct him to find me immediately."
"What if he refuses to come?" Lucius asked practically.
Erwin smiled with absolute confidence. "He will come without hesitation. My former teacher might conceal my existence and protected status from ordinary Death Eater operatives, but a fanatically loyal servant like Barty Crouch Jr. definitely knows about me and my relationship to the Dark Lord."
Lucius nodded understanding. "Very well, I'll pass along the message if our paths cross."
He was preparing to depart when Erwin suddenly remembered an important detail.
"Right—make certain to inform the other Death Eaters to maintain substantial distance from my tent's perimeter. It was expensive to acquire and enchant properly. If someone accidentally sets it ablaze, their entire lives wouldn't be worth the tent's replacement cost."
Lucius actually smiled beneath his mask. "Don't concern yourself—I already issued those specific instructions during the operational briefing. Haven't you noticed your tent is literally the only structure remaining intact in this entire section of the camp?"
Erwin turned to look properly and confirmed the observation was accurate.
Every other tent in the surrounding area had been systematically set ablaze or collapsed, the ground littered with ash and debris.
Only the Cavendish family's distinctive tent stood there in isolated perfection, a peaceful sanctuary completely untouched by the surrounding destruction.
The Death Eaters were even consciously creating a careful buffer zone, avoiding that area entirely even while raiding everything else.
Erwin waved casually, and Lucius departed to continue his assigned mayhem.
Afterward, Erwin continued his leisurely stroll through the chaos, observing with detached interest.
Not long after, he spotted a familiar trio hiding desperately beside some collapsed tent ruins: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Draco Malfoy.
All three looked thoroughly disheveled, their faces blackened with soot and dirt, their clothing torn and stained.
Draco's normally pristine platinum blonde hair was now streaked with dark ash, completely ruining his usual immaculate appearance.
Erwin shook his head with mild exasperation.
What an absolute mess. Really, Lucius! Your own son is out here in danger, and you simply abandoned him to play with fire and chaos? Won't you be kneeling on a washboard when Narcissa finds out?
Draco possessed exactly two reliable techniques for dealing with difficult situations:
For handling conflicts with other students: "I'm going to tell my father!"
For handling conflicts with Lucius: "I'm going to tell my mother!"
The hierarchy was transparently clear.
The trio spotted Erwin's distinctive figure from considerable distance.
Draco's eyes immediately lit up with desperate hope and relief.
"Master! Master, please help us!" he shouted, sprinting directly toward Erwin's position as fast as his exhausted legs could carry him.
Just at that moment, two Death Eaters happened to be passing through the area and heard the commotion.
They were initially preparing to intercept and potentially silence the witnesses when they suddenly recognized the white-haired figure illuminated in the moonlight.
The Death Eaters were so thoroughly frightened they immediately took off running in the opposite direction, fleeing as though being chased by a pack of rabid hellhounds.
Erwin glanced at them with casual disinterest, not even bothering to acknowledge their panicked retreat.
Draco reached Erwin's side, gasping for breath. "Master, I finally found you! Harry was attacked earlier—we've been running and hiding!"
Erwin glanced briefly at Harry Potter, who had jogged up alongside Draco.
Harry kept his head deliberately lowered, carefully avoiding direct eye contact with Erwin.
After all, what had transpired before the summer holidays—though Draco had discussed the situation with Erwin extensively, and Erwin had explicitly assured him he held no grudge against Harry—still made the boy feel profound shame in Erwin's presence.
Erwin had helped him so substantially over the years, and Harry had actually attacked Erwin's own godfather in return.
Although Harry's stated intention had merely been attempting to stop what he perceived as Snape and others harming Sirius, he had undeniably done something wrong and disloyal.
Hermione tugged gently at Harry's sleeve, encouraging him forward. "Harry, didn't you have something important you wanted to say to Mr. Cavendish? You've been rehearsing it constantly throughout the entire summer holiday."
Draco, standing supportively nearby, gave Harry a meaningful, encouraging look as well.
Harry stepped forward hesitantly to face Erwin directly.
"Mr. Cavendish, I'm genuinely sorry—I was completely wrong! I truly realize my terrible mistake now!"
Erwin's expression remained stern. "You shouldn't be apologizing to me, Harry. You need to apologize sincerely to your Potions professor. Do you have any comprehension of how much Professor Snape has sacrificed and done for you over the years? Your own mother told you explicitly that he was completely trustworthy! Can you imagine how deeply hurt he must be by your betrayal?"
Harry lowered his head further, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Cavendish. I'll go apologize properly to Professor Snape immediately when term begins. I genuinely understand I was wrong."
Erwin's tone softened very slightly. "Harry, you carry the title of prophesied savior, but you must understand something fundamental: that designation didn't come from your own strength or accomplishments. It was earned by your mother sacrificing her life to protect you. And it wasn't only her contribution—many other people have worked and suffered to give you the opportunity to fulfill that role. So, Harry, never take people's kindness and protection for granted as something you inherently deserve. Strictly speaking, you owe them enormous debts, not the reverse."
Harry's eyes turned visibly red, though whether from the lingering pain of earlier attacks or from overwhelming guilt remained unclear.
"I understand completely now, Mr. Cavendish. I truly realize my mistakes and I'll do better."
Erwin nodded with apparent satisfaction. "Recognizing your errors and committing to genuine correction—that's good, Harry. That's what matters."
He turned to Draco. "Take them to my tent immediately so they can wash up and recover. Look at yourselves—you're absolutely filthy. Carry my wand with you openly—nobody will dare attack you while you're obviously under my protection."
Erwin handed his distinctive amethyst wand directly to Draco.
Draco accepted it with visible excitement and pride, then led Hermione and Harry toward the solitary intact tent visible in the distance.
Just as Erwin had predicted, with the amethyst wand clearly visible in Draco's possession, every Death Eater they encountered gave them extremely wide berth.
Even those who had specifically been searching for Harry Potter's location to fulfill their assigned objectives didn't dare make any aggressive moves against the protected group.
Draco, observing this automatic deference, was absolutely delighted by the demonstration of power.
"See that? They wouldn't dare do anything to us!" he crowed.
Hermione rolled her eyes expressively. "That's exclusively because you're visibly carrying Mr. Cavendish's personal wand as identification."
Draco's enthusiasm wasn't dimmed. "I wonder when I'll develop the same kind of imposing presence as the family head—where just one wand is sufficient to keep all these Death Eaters from even considering an attack."
Hermione replied dryly, "I can't speak for the other Death Eaters' motivations, but I know with absolute certainty that even without that wand, your own father wouldn't attack you."
"Obviously not," Draco agreed. "Why state the obvious?"
"Because," Hermione clarified with a slight smirk, "you possess the ultimate defensive technique against him: threatening to tell your mother."