After leaving the house, neither Tver nor Marvolio paid any attention to what Rita might be doing. Even if they had known, it would have earned nothing more than a laugh.
"Didn't expect you to be that ruthless. I almost feel bad for the woman~" Marvolio wore a wicked grin, clearly not feeling the slightest bit of sympathy for Rita Skeeter.
"Different people need different methods. As a journalist who's managed to publish so many harsh exposés without incident, she's bound to have a stash of unpublished stories—maybe even ones involving certain individuals."
Tver glanced back toward her house. "Which is why you need to keep a close eye on her. If she uses those stories as leverage against you, your identity could be exposed."
Marvolio nodded without objection.
He knew exactly how powerful the dark magic Tver had used was. It was practically a lock slapped onto Rita's soul. Even if he wanted to remove it himself, it would take serious effort.
If, after that, Rita still dared to act recklessly, then she'd simply brought misfortune upon herself.
"But if she listens obediently," Tver continued, the corner of his mouth lifting, "you'll take whatever evidence she's been hiding and hand it over to Cynthia."
"Tsk. How am I only now realizing how dark you are? Didn't you say Rita was still useful? Aren't you worried that if you push her too hard, she'll snap back?" Marvolio asked.
"That's exactly why I'm giving her the credit for exposing Lockhart. So cultivate a good relationship with her. From now on, anything that praises you or Cynthia needs to go through her."
Politicians needed publicity—especially in the wizarding world. With witches and wizards scattered everywhere, only the Daily Prophet could spread news effectively.
And Rita would become their voice.
She could help elevate Cynthia and Marvolio's reputation now, and later she would be able to circulate Tver's own ideas.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have come here personally, revealing his identity in the process.
But with Rita's personality, talking nicely would never work. She needed the combination of stick and carrot.
"Alright then, get back to work, Mr. Auror~"
As the words faded, so did Tver's silhouette.
Marvolio stared blankly at the spot where he had disappeared.
After spending so long in the Ministry, he finally understood why Tver's approach was necessary.
Raw strength only instilled fear—but benefits and ideals inspired loyalty.
Damn it… with a man this capable, how was he ever supposed to resist him?
He swore under his breath and vanished into the swirling snow.
...
Tver first returned home, said goodbye to his parents and Jeff, then headed back to Hogwarts.
He had barely arrived when he heard the news—
"Hermione Granger—you know, the one always with Harry Potter—has been hospitalized!"
"Another attack? Good thing I went home for the break."
"Same here. But when I told my parents about the attacks, they said they hadn't seen any news about it."
"Maybe the reporters haven't picked up the scent yet…"
Tver watched the two young wizards walk past.
To be honest, he'd always had an interest in Polyjuice Potion.
Unlike Human Transfiguration, Polyjuice transformed someone completely into another person—no exceptions.
For the purposes of disguise, it was superior to human transfiguration in every way.
But human transfiguration was more convenient. No need to brew anything or obtain body materials from the target.
And considering there was now a perfect example waiting in the Hospital Wing, his pace quickened. He wasn't even planning on stopping for dinner.
When he reached the Hospital Wing, aside from the usual two boys and one cat, there was also… well, a cat-girl.
Hermione's face was fully covered in black fur, her eyes had turned into yellow feline slits, and two pointed ears stood straight through her hair.
Madam Pomfrey was examining her with a worn expression, occasionally plucking out a few strands of black fur to inspect them.
Hermione seemed used to the examinations, only letting out a sharp cry when Pomfrey pulled the fur. Even her voice sounded like a cat's—thin and high-pitched.
So detailed. Far too detailed.
Tver sighed inwardly.
Polyjuice Potion still produced the most perfect transformations. It was a pity it could only mimic human forms and not magical creatures—not even half-breeds.
Hermione looked around helplessly, then finally spotted Professor Fawley standing at the doorway, lost in his own thoughts.
"Professor… ah!" Hermione yelped, quickly covering her burning face with both hands.
The sudden movement drew Madam Pomfrey's irritation, and she spun around sharply.
"Professor Lockhart, I told you your methods—oh, Tver!" Her eyes brightened. "Come here at once and take a look. This is an extremely rare case!"
Hermione went blank. "Ah—could we please not have Professor Fawley come over?"
"Don't be ridiculous, child. Tver has exceptional skill in healing potions and transfiguration. He might be able to help you recover sooner."
Ignoring Hermione's embarrassment, Madam Pomfrey seized Tver's arm and pulled him right to the bedside.
Tver had no intention of refusing—he had been waiting for this opportunity.
He reached out, gently lifted Hermione's bowed head, and examined her face closely.
"Could you please not blush so intensely?"
"…Alright."
With the main distraction gone, Tver focused on her eyes—slightly reflective, unmistakably feline.
Outwardly, they were exactly like a cat's eyes. The question was whether they functioned like them too.
"Have you noticed anything odd about your vision? Like a wider field of view, worse close-up but clearer at a distance? Or difficulty distinguishing colors?"
Hermione paused, thought carefully, then answered.
"No, everything looks the same as before. Wait… things do look a bit faded. Black and white are normal, but colors like red—" She pointed at a Gryffindor scarf on the nearby table. "—they're lighter than I remember."
Tver nodded in understanding.
Everything he listed were characteristics of feline vision. Because cat eyes are built differently from human eyes, cats are essentially color-blind.
But Hermione had only mild changes, likely because of the Polyjuice Potion.
Polyjuice couldn't perform non-human transformations, which meant it couldn't fully alter cellular functions.
With that in mind, Tver promptly plucked a hair from her face.
Madam Pomfrey, seeing the motion, expertly lifted the oil lamp.
"Thank you."
Tver held the black hair to the flame's light, examining it closely.
If this had been a case of Human Transfiguration, the hair would have reverted the moment it left the body and lost magical support.
But it didn't. It stayed exactly as it was.
This was the hallmark of Polyjuice: detached parts didn't revert. In a way, they were "dead," permanently fixed in their altered form.
If a Muggle biologist were here, they could study the cells—maybe even the DNA—under a microscope.
The results would shake both the magical and non-magical worlds.
But with only the naked eye available, far too many possibilities of magic went to waste.
Tver sighed and straightened, letting the hair drift from his fingers.
Magic had its own methods, though. He glanced at Hermione once more. Before she recovered, he needed to take advantage of this rare opportunity to thoroughly understand the strengths of Polyjuice-based transformations.