As compensation, Tver stayed behind in the classroom to answer some magical questions for Cedric and his three friends. It was nearly ten o'clock before they reluctantly left the classroom.
"Getting hung up for a night to earn private lessons with the professor? Sounds pretty sweet!" George exclaimed cheerfully.
"Double the fun!"
Davies, who had unlocked a certain attribute, also realized this possibility and instantly beamed with excitement. However, noticing the three others' horrified expressions, he quickly clarified, "I mean, you get to fight the dummy and learn from the professor at the same time."
"But that dummy is seriously impressive. I've never heard of an object that can learn on its own," Cedric remarked with admiration.
Fred waved his hand dismissively. "Professor Fawley has plenty of perks. Did you notice his little bag? I bet it's got an Undetectable Extension Charm on it!"
George nodded, gesturing with his hand to indicate the size of a wallet.
"We tried casting Undetectable Extension Charm on a small bag last year, but it was too hard. Mum caught us before we succeeded and gave us a proper thrashing."
He patted his backside, as if the sting still lingered.
"But the law forbids using Undetectable Extension Charm on private property!" Davies stared at them in shock.
"Why else do you think we got spanked?"
"So Professor Fawley is just as mischievous as us!"
The twins rubbed their hands together excitedly, as if finding justification for their own pranks.
As for the mischievous Professor Fawley, he remained in the classroom studying the dummy.
Through memory retrieval, Tver saw tonight's student training session.
The Weasley twins were the most inventive, yet their spellcasting skills were the weakest. Combined, they still couldn't match Cedric's individual combat prowess. Of course, the twins provided the offensive strategies for all four of them—their greatest asset being their quick thinking.
Davies was more well-rounded, sharper-witted than Cedric and more combat-capable than the twins. His skills were fairly balanced, making his progress the most steady and predictable. If he kept improving, he'd become a solid powerhouse, though his natural limits capped his potential.
As for Cedric, he was the kind of promising talent Tver truly admired. His foundational knowledge was solid, his spellcasting technique polished, and his character was upright—he'd repeatedly risked himself to save teammates. The only issue was that he was too upright. In Tver's eyes, that wasn't a virtue. The magical world was treacherous and unpredictable, especially the one several years hence. Such people rarely lasted long! Even if Tver saved him four years later, there was no guarantee he wouldn't face other dangers.
Rubbing his chin, Tver stood pondering in the classroom late into the night. Suddenly, a loud clatter echoed through the halls.
"Quirrell? In such a rush? And making this much noise?"
Curiosity piqued, Tver cast a Disillusionment Charm and slowly made his way toward the fourth-floor corridor. The sight that greeted him, however, was somewhat unexpected. Filch and Peeves.
As the castle's caretaker, Filch conducted his nightly patrols, focusing particularly on the third floor. Someone had informed him that students would be wandering the third floor at midnight tonight. The castle's students were far from well-behaved, especially those Gryffindor twins. He had to patrol every night to curb their nocturnal escapades. But tonight, those students weren't just wandering—they were making a tremendous racket!
Provocation! Blatant provocation!
Filch, seething with rage, had tracked them down, only to find those little wizards still running amok in the castle! His aging legs weren't as nimble as the students', but luckily, Peeves' shrieks guided his way.
"Tell me, where are they now?" Filch asked in a low voice, struggling to contain his anger.
"Say 'please,' or I won't tell you anything," Peeves said mischievously, flipping through the air.
"Fine—please tell me where they are now?"
The notoriously mischievous Peeves wasn't about to be so kind. Cackling, he flew off into the distance.
"I told you, I won't tell you anything!"
As Peeves's laughter faded into the distance, the corridor echoed only with Filch's furious curses.
"You little bastard! Just you wait until I find a way to deal with you!"
But he could only vent his frustration with curses. Peeves had existed in the castle longer than anyone, even the headmasters, and none had dared to stop him from causing mischief. After searching in vain, Filch continued on with his oil lamp, heading to other parts of the castle, hoping his cat, Mrs. Norris, might lead him to the students. As for the door at the end of the corridor, he'd already tried it—it wouldn't budge.
Shortly after Filch departed, the door he deemed impossible suddenly opened, and four panicked first-years burst out, scrambling for escape. They were about to keep running when a figure blocked their path.
"P-Professor... Professor Tver!"
Harry's wide eyes held terror, though it was hard to tell whether the Three-Headed Dog or the professor had caused more panic. Tver stood with his hands behind his back, his expression impassive as he scanned each of them in turn.
"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom." Those named bowed their heads in shame one after another, all ending up silent with their heads down.
"I am not a Hogwarts graduate and am unfamiliar with the school's traditions, so I have a question for you."
"Is causing trouble a Gryffindor tradition?"
Harry wanted to protest, but when he looked up at Tver's calm expression, his mouth opened and closed without sound. He could only whimper regretfully like a scolded puppy. The joy he'd felt earlier about joining the Quidditch team vanished instantly.
"Hmm?" Tver stepped before Hermione. "Clever Miss Granger, might you provide the answer?"
Her name called, Hermione sniffed sadly, fighting back tears. For the first time, she found herself unable to answer the professor's question. But what Tver said next left them doubting their own ears.
"Right then," Tver patted Harry's shoulder. "It's getting late. Off to bed you go, young ones. Lack of sleep stunts your growth, you know."
Hermione looked up immediately, tears now streaming down her face.
"But Professor, shouldn't we—" she choked out.
"Ah, you're right," Tver pulled out a small handkerchief and handed it to her with a smile. "But as I said, I'm not a Hogwarts student. It's perfectly normal not to be familiar with certain rules, isn't it?"
Seeing Hermione frozen in place, Tver simply pressed the handkerchief into her hand before walking away with his hands behind his back.
"Remember, this is a one-time thing. Don't expect it again!"
Hermione stared blankly at the handkerchief in her hand, only snapping back to reality when Harry nudged her twice.
"Come on, let's go! If Filch catches us, we won't be so lucky!"