After finishing up the last bits of summer business, Tver packed his belongings with peace of mind and set off for Hogwarts.
That sense of ease, however, belonged to him alone.
Marvolio now had to juggle Ministry affairs while also relying on Peter's intelligence to keep a close eye on Voldemort's condition, in case anything unexpected happened again. Fortunately, he was now effectively the second-in-command of the Auror Office, subordinate only to Scrimgeour, so he no longer needed to handle minor matters personally.
As for major affairs, what could possibly be more significant in the wizarding world than Voldemort?
Cynthia and Barty were the busiest of all.
As officials of the Department for International Magical Cooperation, they bore an inherent responsibility to clean up the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup final. Barty in particular had descended like a savior amid the chaos, bravely leading a group of Aurors to arrest a large number of criminals.
In Rita's recent reports, she either lambasted Fudge or praised Barty to the skies.
As for the fact that Barty had been responsible for match security in the first place, no one mentioned it.
Or rather, it was something that would never appear in the newspapers.
With Tver's money and influence behind her, Rita now held a pivotal position at the Daily Prophet. This was the power of public opinion. Whatever Tver wanted wizards to see was all they could see.
Even if something unsavory occurred, as long as it did not spread widely, a small number of perceptive individuals noticing it would still be unable to generate any real attention.
Aside from them, there was also Lupin, whom they had not seen for quite some time.
With sufficient funding and supplies, and with Lupin and Marvolio working together—combining both kindness and authority—any werewolf who still retained even a shred of goodwill would choose to follow Lupin.
As a result, the herb greenhouse and the Beautification Potion brewing laboratory, funded and overseen by Madam Primpernelle, were constructed in a secluded corner of the Forbidden Forest, closer to Hogsmeade.
The only problem was that werewolves were generally scattered in their living arrangements and had little interaction with others, making it difficult to gather large numbers in a short time.
This was where Umbridge came in handy.
In the anti-werewolf legislation from the previous year, Umbridge had required werewolves to register with the Ministry of Magic. At the time, the law had not been overly strict, so most friendly werewolves chose to register some basic information.
And those were precisely the werewolves Tver wanted to win over.
Cynthia seized an opportunity to copy the registration records and handed them to Lupin.
Now Lupin had embarked on a nationwide journey to seek out werewolves, only occasionally returning during full moons to spend the night at the potion laboratory with the others.
As for the Death Eaters, who had once been restless and unruly, this lesson had sobered them considerably. They no longer strutted arrogantly through the wizarding world, but instead began living lives of conspicuous extravagance.
—After earning money in the muggle world, the materials and supplies purchased for use in the wizarding world were mostly sold through the businesses of these pureblood families.
That price difference alone was enough to double their quality of life.
Yet no one noticed a problem. Not even Cynthia and Marvolio, who stayed close to Tver, realized it.
Supplies in the wizarding world had become cheaper.
There was simply too much money flowing in from the muggle world, and the volume of purchased goods was correspondingly enormous.
This was not deflation, where falling prices would lead to a simultaneous decrease in both income and spending for wizards. It was nothing less than compensation flowing from the muggle world into the wizarding world.
It was somewhat like the developed nations of his previous life.
Wizards' money had become more valuable. With lower prices, they could buy more food and goods than before.
Of course, this shift was happening very slowly. Otherwise, Tver would never have dared to push things forward so boldly.
He hadn't explained it to anyone either. He was worried that some people wouldn't understand how this kind of economic cycle worked and would stop selling goods from the Muggle world at such low prices.
And that was exactly what Tver wanted—to let wizards enjoy the benefits brought by the immense productivity of an industrial society.
Even though the Muggle world mainly produced food, simple fabrics, clothing, and the like, wizards would gradually notice that more and more money was being left in their pockets, and their lives were becoming increasingly comfortable.
Families like the Weasleys, if they were perceptive enough, might even realize that their family vault could finally start accumulating savings.
(A small reminder: the Weasley family vault didn't lack money so much as it lacked Galleons. It held plenty of Sickles and Knuts, which together were worth a fair number of Galleons.)
Once wizards became accustomed to this kind of prosperous life, even for the sake of profit, they would likely find themselves unconsciously leaning toward integration with Muggles.
Thinking over his quiet, unseen plans, Tver returned to Hogwarts.
His timing was impeccable. As he reached the gates, he ran into the students who were also arriving back at school.
"Professor Fawley!"
Under the pouring rain, Hermione hurried down from the carriage. Only when she reached the entrance did she notice Tver.
Unlike the bedraggled students, Tver's clothes were enviably dry, as if the torrential rain outside were nothing more than a backdrop.
Harry and Ron followed close behind, rushing through the rain with their fringes soaked and plastered to their foreheads, grinning foolishly at Tver.
Harry's disappearance on the night of the World Cup had given Sirius quite a scare.
But Harry, at the very least, never lacked courage. He quickly recovered from the panic of seeing Voldemort.
Just earlier on the train, he had even been telling his friends about what happened that night.
It was just that their current state was truly miserable.
Tver flicked his wand. As before, a warm breeze flowed from its tip, gently sweeping over the three of them and the students who came after.
In the end, it formed into a barrier stretched across the entrance, brushing softly against every student who passed through.
"Professor—!" Hermione cried out in alarm, pointing behind Tver.
Without turning his head, Tver raised a transparent barrier that lightly caught a water-filled balloon.
"Peeves. I didn't expect you'd already have the nerve to make a move against me," he said, turning around to look at Peeves, who was holding several similar balloons.
The grin on Peeves' face froze.
He wanted to say that he'd made a mistake, that he thought Tver was some upper-year student. Otherwise, even if he had ten times the courage—
Actually… he really might dare to go after a professor.
Suddenly, he split into a wide grin and raised all the balloons in his hands.
"My apologies, Professor Fawley. Looks like I still need more practice—"
Before he could throw them, every balloon burst at once. Water splashed all over Peeves, drenching him from head to toe.
"Hahahaha—"
The surrounding students burst into laughter. It was rare to see Peeves in such a state.
Usually, even professors could only chase him off with words.
"Enough laughing. Get inside, quickly."
Tver waved his hand, took the lead through the gates, and headed toward the Great Hall.
...
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