The following morning, Tver uncharacteristically overslept.
Fortunately, he had no classes scheduled before noon.
The previous night, after a childish yet remarkably subtle contest of Transfiguration, he had ultimately suffered defeat.
Dumbledore had shamelessly brought out the Elder Wand!
The Headmaster’s natural power was already greater than Tver’s, and bolstered by the wand’s amplification, not even Tver’s mentor could have withstood him.
Afterward, he and Dumbledore had discussed magic until late into the night, and Tver had not returned to rest until dawn began to break.
For the most part, Dumbledore had been instructing while Tver absorbed everything he could.
Transfiguration was simple in principle: by their seventh year, students generally mastered Switching Spells, Vanishing Spells, and the Summoning Charm.
Tver was already exceptionally proficient in those areas.
Yet achieving Transfiguration of breathtaking subtlety—producing effects far more powerful than ordinary charms—required a deeper level of mastery.
There was magical control, for instance, which allowed transfigured objects to move with far greater agility.
Then there were magical properties: infusing charms into the Transfiguration so that the transfigured object exhibited the effects of an active spell.
In these respects, Dumbledore was even more formidable than Tver’s mentor.
*Not that I’m disparaging my teacher, of course.*
After that silent qualification, Tver made his way to the Great Hall for a meal.
There were few students left in the hall at this hour, but the moment he walked in, every eye turned toward him.
Before long, curious young wizards had crowded around him, peppering him with questions about Durmstrang.
“Durmstrang requires crew cuts.
I wonder if you could stomach that, Mr.
Malfoy?”
“We wear fur cloaks and blood-red robes, depending on the weather.”
“Yes, it is freezing most of the time, though a few particularly robust students forgo the cloaks.”
“Here’s a bit of trivia for you: Quidditch is an international sport, so we have teams as well.
They aren’t divided by house, however, but organized into several distinct squads.”
“All right, everyone, question time is over.
I still have a class to teach.”
Only when the start of class drew near did Tver manage to extricate himself from the sea of students.
Word had evidently spread that Professor Welfare was in the Great Hall talking about Durmstrang, drawing nearly every student who had a free period.
He did not mind answering their questions, however; it served as a pleasant way to unwind from the fatigue of last night’s study.
…
“I wonder when Professor Welfare will get here.”
He won’t be late, will he?”
“If he’s late, does that mean we got here so early for nothing and won’t get to see his roll-call spell?”
“I don’t care about that!
I went out of my way to learn several new jinxes just so I could duel Professor Welfare!”
The second-years were chattering excitedly about the upcoming lesson, brimming with anticipation for the battle that might take place.
After an entire day of rumors circulating through the castle, they had been eagerly awaiting this afternoon class since early morning.
Many had bolted down their lunch at midday just to wait in this very classroom.
“The professor’s here!”
Someone shouted, and the classroom fell instantly silent.
Every pair of eyes turned eagerly toward the doorway.
Sure enough, seconds later, the dashing Tver strode inside, carrying a paper bag in his hands.
He looked slightly surprised to find the room already packed with students gazing at him with rapt expectation.
He glanced back out the door to confirm it was indeed his classroom before stepping cheerfully up to the podium.
“To be honest, if the bell hadn’t yet rung, I would have assumed I was late.”
The students obliged with proud, cheerful laughter.
The roll call could not be skipped, however.
Tver gave his wand a flick, and names materialized above the students’ heads.
Amid their gasps of wonder, the golden lights gathered and sank into the parchment roster in his hand.
“Very good,” he said, scanning the parchment.
“I don’t imagine anyone would be bold enough to skip my class.”
Tver tucked the parchment away and met the expectant gazes below.
“Although most of you likely know who I am by now, an introduction is still in order.”
“I am Tver Foley, your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
And yes, I do hail from Durmstrang, but I expect you not to discuss my alma mater during class.
That is a rule for this course.”
“As for your first lesson, I believe you all have an inkling of what is to come.”
Cheers erupted at once.
“However,” Tver raised his voice, cutting through the excitement, “before we proceed to combat, there is a rather less enjoyable step you must undertake.”
As he spoke, he waved his wand at the paper bag.
Test papers flew out in neat streams, landing with pinpoint accuracy before each student.
The students’ faces fell instantly, replaced by sheer disappointment.
“No need to fret.
The combat you desire will follow shortly.
This quiz is merely to help me gain a clearer understanding of where you stand.”
Tver transfigured a massive hourglass to keep time for them.
“You will have half an hour.
Do not feel overly pressured; simply write down what you know.
Even if there are things you don’t know, I will teach them to you over the course of the year.”
The hourglass flipped, and the countdown began.
The entire class immediately applied themselves to the test.
Tver, meanwhile, walked behind them, practicing the Transfiguration techniques he had learned the night before.
The questions were drawn from last year’s textbook—a concise summary of essential knowledge.
From yesterday’s class, he had realized that while the previous instructor had technically covered the syllabus, how much the students had actually retained remained an open question.
Combat alone could only reveal one facet of their ability, hardly the full picture.
Thus, he had prepared this test specifically to gauge just how much Defense Against the Dark Arts knowledge they had truly absorbed.
Half an hour passed in the blink of an eye.
The questions were straightforward: those who knew the material finished early, while those who did not sat scratching their heads in vain.
With a flick of his wand, Tver gathered the papers and spoke the words everyone had been dying to hear.
“Combat.
I know you’ve been looking forward to this.
On your feet, everyone, and don’t forget your wands!”
“Whoo-hoo!”
The students hurriedly packed away their books and rushed toward the back of the room in orderly chaos, wands drawn.
To their astonishment, there were suddenly three Professor Welfares standing before them.
Triple the fun?
Once they had taken their positions, Tver explained:
“After yesterday’s class, I noticed that you, well, still have considerable room for improvement.
If I were to act as your opponent directly, you wouldn’t be able to demonstrate your full capabilities.”
He pointed his wand at the two identical figures beside him.
Both instantly sprang to life, settling into combat stances.
“You will be divided into two teams.
Each team will protect one of me, while doing everything in your power to defeat the other!”