Tver studied the bartender with amusement.
He was tall and thin, with long, graying hair and a beard, and cold, icy blue eyes.
If he hadn’t known the plot beforehand, Tver would never have associated him with Headmaster Dumbledore.
Yes, this was Dumbledore’s younger brother, Aberforth Dumbledore.
The older brother was the supreme Light wizard, the famous Headmaster of Hogwarts, while the younger brother was the keeper of a dilapidated pub in a small village.
Perhaps Tver had stared for too long, which seemed to annoy the pub owner.
Aberforth repeated himself impatiently.
“Customer, what on earth do you want?
Butterbeer or Firewhisky?
Or are you planning to stay the night?”
“A bottle of Butterbeer will do.”
Tver lightheartedly found an empty table, situated at a distance that was neither too close nor too far from Quirrell.
Quirrell had also ordered a bottle of Butterbeer and was drinking it by himself.
Compared to other pubs, this place was relatively quiet.
Only Hagrid was making a considerable racket over there, playing cards while chatting with someone about magical creatures.
However, when Tver saw the butterbeer bottle that was served, his desire to take a sip instantly vanished.
The grime on it was greasier than Professor Snape’s hair and more nauseating than the garlic stench on Quirrell.
Aberforth must have done it on purpose, just to retaliate for his rudeness earlier.
Both brothers were the type who grew more childish the older they got!
Tver shook his head slightly.
As for this bottle of beer, better forget about it.
Sitting in the pub, Tver did not go out of his way to observe Quirrell’s movements.
Instead, like him, he listened to the conversations of the people around him.
“I heard someone broke into Gringotts.
In the end, the mysterious thief got away cleanly.”
“You’re out of the loop.
That thief completely cleaned Gringotts out!
The goblins are having a massive headache trying to cover up the deficit.”
“If you ask me, this is just Gringotts putting on a show.
They embezzled their depositors’ assets in private and told the public it was stolen!”
Tver’s face beneath his hood twitched slightly.
What exactly was I expecting?
Quirrell was likely thinking the same; his shoulders slumped, his entire posture exuding impatience.
His hands rested on the table as if he wanted to stand up and leave.
Just then, Hagrid suddenly spoke a sentence that made Quirrell quickly settle back down.
“Then you haven’t seen a three-headed dog.
I raised one for a year.
The only trouble is, the three heads easily get into fights.”
With just this one sentence, Quirrell sat firmly again, quietly listening to Hagrid’s conversation.
However, Hagrid only mentioned the three-headed dog this once.
The rest of his chatter was about his love for dragons, which left Quirrell somewhat disappointed.
But this also let Tver know Quirrell’s purpose tonight.
So he was still troubled by the three-headed dog.
A smile curled at the corner of Tver’s mouth.
He picked up his untouched bottle of beer and sat down next to Hagrid.
This movement was not conspicuous.
People were constantly coming and going around Hagrid to watch them play cards.
After sitting down, Tver watched quietly for a while, then suddenly spoke up.
“I have a three-headed dog too, a big one.
They have wild tempers and are incredibly hard to tame.
I really don’t know how you managed it.
If I didn’t know their weakness, I would have been bitten to death by them sooner or later.”
With the conversation started, Hagrid’s interest was piqued.
Not many people were willing to chat with him about magical creatures, after all; his views on these little beasts were rather different.
“Oh, that’s simple.
Three-headed dogs love cooked meat, but they don’t mind raw meat either.
You just have to feed it raw meat regularly, and then feed it cooked meat during training.
They’ll obediently follow your instructions.”
Hagrid enthusiastically babbled a whole lot more.
Tver didn’t catch the rest of it clearly, but he only needed to know one thing—
The prey had taken the bait.
Ever since he brought up the topic of the three-headed dog, he had constantly felt a subtle gaze focused on him.
Needless to say, the only one who could watch for so long was Quirrell.
After expressing his gratitude to Hagrid, Tver hurriedly left the pub, pretending to be a wizard who had just learned a trick and was rushing home to train his three-headed dog.
However, after leaving the pub, his pace slowed down slightly.
He walked slowly along the empty street toward the edge of the village.
Quirrell was patient indeed; he clearly followed behind him but didn’t catch up immediately, seemingly not even afraid that Tver might Apparate away.
Standing at the entrance of the village, Tver lost his patience.
He made a clumsy gesture as if preparing to Apparate.
Sure enough, Quirrell quickly stepped out of the shadows.
“My friend, don’t leave just yet,” his voice held a trace of warmth, trying to make Tver lower his guard.
“Can we have a chat?”
“Who are you?” Tver feigned surprise and took two steps back.
I don’t have time to chat with you.”
“Don’t be in such a hurry, my friend,” Quirrell pulled out a small pouch, which let out a crisp clinking sound.
“Just answer one small question, and you can have twenty Galleons.
It’s very simple.”
Tver laughed inwardly.
Bribery for Hagrid involved a dragon egg, but for him, it was only twenty Galleons.
Moreover, he didn’t plan on giving it away directly.
Tver pretended to be attracted by the Galleons, pausing for a moment before saying, “What do you want to know?
If it’s too difficult, I can’t guarantee I’ll know the answer.”
“It’s very simple.
You just need to tell me what the weakness of a three-headed dog is.”
Quirrell temptingly shook the money bag in his hand.
Tver crossed his arms, speaking in a teasing tone, “That is not a simple question.
I believe you sat in the pub for so long without finding out the answer to this very question.”
Quirrell’s anger flared instantly.
Tver’s posture was clearly a blatant attempt to play him.
“Don’t get cocky!
At worst, I can just ask that big fellow!” he said through gritted teeth.
“Then go ahead and ask him,” Tver waved his hand at Quirrell.
“I’ll be back next week.
You can come find me then—if you still haven’t asked and gotten your answer by then.”
Before Quirrell could reply, Tver’s figure flickered and vanished instantly, showing none of his previous clumsiness.
Quirrell realized in an instant that he had been fooled!
That fearful posture from before was entirely deliberate, just to trick him into letting his guard down!
“You were careless,” a low, raspy voice echoed from inside Quirrell’s hood.
Quirrell immediately folded his hands over his chest, saying respectfully, “Master, it was my mistake.
That man is not as simple as he appears on the surface.”
“I mean, you were being watched from the very beginning when you were in the pub!”
Voldemort’s voice grew fierce and harsh, making Quirrell tremble all over.
“I…
I don’t understand what you mean, my Master.”
“That man was paying attention to you from the moment he entered the pub, watching your every move, you fool!”
Voldemort also felt incredibly furious, because he had only realized this just now.
He, the Great Dark Lord, had actually been played by a fellow hiding his face!
“Make sure to come here next week.
Strip that man’s soul clean, and let me see what exactly is hidden inside!”