The warm summer sunlight streamed into the Gryffindor common room, where students were absorbed in tackling mountains of homework and revision materials. Only occasionally, when a few tired students lifted their heads to glance out the window, did they sigh over Professor Fawley's wicked intentions. Such beautiful weather, and they were stuck indoors. What a waste.
Ever since the last enjoyable practical lesson ended, the professor had handed each student a workbook. It supposedly contained all the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam questions from the past twenty years, along with many basic concepts and their advanced versions that appeared on the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T. exams. It was meant to give everyone early exposure to the kinds of questions they would face and a sense of their difficulty.
But…
There was too much, and it was far too hard.
The more fun the previous lessons had been, the more miserable they were now as they worked through the exercises. Especially because several professors had noticed how effective this method was and began doing the same, releasing workbooks for their own subjects.
Transfiguration class.
"As Professor Fawley said, your lack of theoretical knowledge has already begun to affect your practical magic. That was my oversight, and it must be corrected."
Professor McGonagall pointed at the thick exercise book.
Charms class.
"To put together this workbook for you, my dark circles now rival Professor Fawley's," Professor Flitwick joked.
"So don't you dare waste my hard work."
"And don't say I didn't warn you—every year's final exam will include questions taken from this book."
Because of that, the students abandoned their usual habit of rote memorization and threw themselves into endless practice problems. Unlike ordinary exercises, every concept here was clearly summarized and labeled with its source to help them find where it appeared in the textbook. The questions involving practical spells even included illustrations for easier understanding.
After all, the purpose was to help them learn magic and fill in their knowledge gaps, not to force them into mindless drills. Theory always had to serve practical application.
"Hermione, I heard from George there's a Doubling Charm that can copy answers…"
Ron collapsed onto his textbook with a thud, muttering weakly.
Harry looked yearningly at Hermione as well. They weren't even halfway through their work, while Hermione had already moved on to checking answers.
"Don't even think about it. I'm not lending you my answers," she said offhandedly.
"And the solutions are all in the textbook or your notes. It's really not that hard."
"Not that hard?" Ron shot upright, his voice suddenly rising.
"We spend ages searching and still can't find a single correct answer!"
He jabbed a finger at one of the questions, grumbling loudly.
Hermione set down her textbook with a sigh and pulled the workbook from his hands. One glance and she knew the problem.
"This is a question on the similarities and differences between the Memory Charm and the False Memory Charm—it's just a warm-up for the O.W.L.s."
She flipped through Standard Book of Spells: Level II, then handed Ron the page with her notes.
"Didn't we discuss Lockhart before, didn't we? I thought you guys knew all about his specialty."
"Can't imagine what we'd do without you," Ron said, accepting the book with a sigh.
"Didn't you worry we'd get you in trouble? We stopped paying attention to Lockhart altogether. Was he tried already?"
Hermione immediately pulled out a thick stack of newspapers and flipped to the latest issue.
"The verdict came out just a few days ago. For using the Memory Charm on over thirty witches and wizards, causing irreversible severe damage, he was ordered to forfeit all income he gained through stealing others' work to compensate the victims, and sentenced to twenty years in prison."
"He's probably already in Azkaban."
Thinking of Hagrid's shaken expression when he'd mentioned Azkaban after returning, Ron went pale.
"Isn't that the Auror who took Lockhart away?" Harry pointed at another photo in the paper.
"Yeah. He even glared at us," Ron grumbled.
The lower half of the article about Lockhart was entirely about that Auror. Dawlish stood proudly beside Minister Fudge, the medals on his chest gleaming even in the photograph.
Hermione spread open the paper so they could all read the report.
"This man is named Dawlish. Rita says he's the most capable Auror the Ministry has had in the past decade. In just one year, he's captured half of all wanted criminals."
"This time, he received the Order of Merlin, Second Class not only for exposing Lockhart's crimes, but also for bringing peace to the wizarding world."
Ron frowned in confusion.
"Rita Skeeter wrote this? I thought she'd say this Auror didn't deserve the medal."
"She did say that… but what she meant was that Dawlish deserves a First Class Order instead. The Ministry should give capable employees the honors they're due…"
Hermione, unaware of Rita's fame for tearing people apart in the wizarding world, assumed this was normal.
But to Tver, far away, this was anything but subtle.
"Can't you keep a low profile? Just take the medal and leave it at that. The Ministry's bound to get criticized again soon, and people will naturally remember you then."
Holding the insignia, Tver scolded Marvolio as if he were hopeless.
Tver had just received the second medal from Dervish & Banges and handed it over to him. And somehow, Marvolio still managed to turn a good thing into a bad one.
Receiving a medal was a blessing—an extra layer of prestige that made others think twice before crossing you.
But openly pushing for a higher-ranking Order? That was just begging for Fudge to resent him.
"I didn't mean to," Marvolio said, sounding wronged. "That woman Rita took it on herself. By the time I realized, the papers were already out."
He hadn't expected Rita to suddenly become so… cooperative. When he'd gone to her home, the place had been stacked with glowing articles about them.
The kind that could make him blush.
There had even been pieces about Tver and Cynthia, practically ready for publication. If he hadn't stopped her in time, Tver himself might have been the one knocking on her door.
Hearing Marvolio complain, Tver could only sigh.
"Then tell her to stay quiet for a while. After some time passes, we'll let her tear into the Ministry again."
"Is something going on?"
Marvolio was long used to Tver's predictions. If he'd said Dumbledore would join their side someday, Marvolio might have believed him.
"That's not important right now. What matters is—how's Lucius?"
"Ha." Marvolio let out a wicked little laugh. "Plenty of officials are fed up with him. They blame him for the Ministry being criticized for months. Fudge hasn't spoken to him in two months."
"Weasley seems determined to go against him. With Cynthia's subtle help, he's ruined several of Lucius's sales operations and confiscated loads of dark magical items."
"Good. Give him a bit more time. He might even come knocking on his own…"
Tver's lips curled into a satisfied smile.
Compared to the original plot, Lucius had merely been raided a few times and had grown distant from the Ministry. Hardly a devastating blow to the Malfoy family.
But the difference now was that Tver could offer them an additional possibility.
A better one.
All he needed was to place a more significant chip on the scale—just enough to tip Lucius's final choice.