Of course, no one refused. They all made room, giving Tver a VIP spot to watch the game.
Before long, a circle of curious young wizards gathered around.
Ron and Seamus, however, grew nervous as they played, their hands trembling slightly as they moved the pieces. This was their first time playing under the watchful eye of a professor—especially one who rested her chin in her hand, watching them with such keen interest.
"Why haven't you started?" Tver glanced at the pair. "Is my presence making you uncomfortable?"
George slapped Ron's shoulder so hard it sent him reeling sideways.
"Not at all, Professor! We'd love for you to stay right here," George said, then turned to Ron with a threatening tone. "Right, Ron?"
Tver watched the scene with amusement, realizing his presence had put them on edge.
"Well then, I can prepare a small gift for you. The winner gets it."
Tver placed the badge on the table, positioning it between Ron and Seamus.
This was an enhanced version of the Shield Charm badge. The charm inside could withstand attacks from ordinary wizards for at least ten minutes and even deflect the Killing Curse to some extent.
Everyone's attention was instantly drawn to the badge. Though its design was rather crude, Professor Fawley had offered it as a gift, and no one was foolish enough to underestimate it.
Just by looking at it, they couldn't tell what made it special.
Ron and Seamus exchanged a glance after catching sight of the badge, their tension instantly melting away. Their eyes blazed with fighting spirit, as if flames had ignited within them.
Even their commands to the pieces carried a palpable tension.
Wizard Chess was essentially the same as regular chess, but the pieces were mobile. When a player issued a command, the pieces would obey.
Of course, if the player was an easy target, the pieces wouldn't obey so readily.
"That's a trap! Are you so dazed you can't see it?!"
"The Queen is mighty! Charge forward, Your Majesty! Your most loyal servant stands ever at your back!"
"Enough. Even my grandmother could win this with us."
Teasing aside, the pieces ultimately obeyed commands. Yet Seamus's skill couldn't match Ron's, and twenty minutes later, he suffered a decisive defeat.
Under the gaze of the crowd—some excited, some disappointed—Tver presented the badge to Ron.
"This badge is imbued with a powerful Shield Charm. It can shield the wearer from many charms, including deadly ones."
The room erupted in murmurs, eyes fixated on the badge with newfound intensity.
Whether from receiving the badge or the sudden attention, Ron's face flushed bright red, his ears and neck tinged crimson.
"Show us, Ron!"
The Weasley twins rushed to his side, eyes glued to the badge in his hand.
"Just a reminder—the badge holds limited magic. After two uses, its power will be depleted, leaving it as ordinary as any other badge."
Tver's words poured cold water over the group's excitement, dousing their enthusiasm instantly.
"So keep it safe. I hope you never need it, but in a pinch, it could save your life."
Winking at Ron, Tver strode out of the Great Hall while everyone was still reeling from shock and disappointment. The Gryffindor table had already been crowded by his presence, and once word spread about the badge's effect, even more young wizards gathered around. If he stayed any longer, the idle young wizards would fill the space completely, making it difficult to leave.
Exchanging a badge for a quality wizard chess match was, in Tver's eyes, an absolute steal. Seamus's skill level wasn't particularly high—merely adequate—but Ron was different. Solving Professor McGonagall's chess puzzle proved his exceptional skill. Moreover, to secure the reward more reliably, he'd pulled out all the stops, masterfully combining various tactics. Tver, at least, was thoroughly entertained.
In high spirits, he quietly made his way back to the fourth-floor corridor, unchanged from a week prior. Navigating the initial obstacles with practiced ease, Tver arrived effortlessly before the chessboard. Due to the board's peculiar design, he had to replace one of the pieces to command the black side. Naturally choosing the king, Tver issued commands to his pieces with brimming confidence.
"Pawn, advance to A6!"
"Knight, capture the enemy pawn!"
"Queen, retreat to E7!"
...
A clatter of pieces followed. Five minutes later, as expected—Tver lost. His lips twitched. Speechless, he waved his wand to block the throne toppled by the queen, then smashed it to pieces in a fit of frustration. Defeat had been anticipated, but the speed of it was unexpected.
Seamus had held out twenty minutes against Ron. How could he have lasted only five? It seemed he had underestimated this board after all.
While waiting for the pieces to regenerate, Tver studied the board. Undoubtedly, it employed extensive Transfiguration techniques, bearing Professor McGonagall's signature meticulous style. Especially during the piece regeneration process, Tver sensed a controlling will.
The shattered pieces lay discarded beyond the board's edges, yet the controlling magical source and will resided entirely within it. Simply put, the board seemed alive, directing the movements of the pieces upon it. It resembled ordinary wizard chess, but with far greater precision. Based on his understanding of souls, this represented a fusion of will, memory, and magic.
To attribute this to Professor McGonagall seemed implausible to Tver, but if it were Dumbledore, it made perfect sense. Recalling the old man's discussion of willpower during their Transfiguration lessons, achieving this level of mastery was hardly beyond his capabilities. In that light, Dumbledore's research into souls might even surpass his own depth!
Tver's eyes grew solemn. The closer he came to this Headmaster, the more profoundly he sensed the depth of his magical understanding. His own teacher, lacking the conditions for magical research over the years, had fallen behind in certain areas.
But Dumbledore was different. Residing at Hogwarts, active within the wizarding world, his accumulation of magical knowledge was virtually unmatched in the present era. This gave Tver a headache.
How could he possibly steal the Philosopher's Stone right under the nose of such an elder? What if he finally got the stone only to find himself surrounded by Dumbledore's forces?
After much deliberation, he couldn't come up with a solution. Tver decided to let it go for now—Quirrell was already holding the front line, and he seemed even more anxious than Tver himself. Packing his resolve, Tver stepped back onto the board to resume his game of wizard chess.
He had to get past this obstacle first. Otherwise, the Philosopher's Stone would remain nothing but a pipe dream.