The next day, news of Malfoy being scratched by a Hippogriff reached Tver's ears almost immediately.
To be fair, this wasn't exactly Hagrid's fault. It was perfectly normal for creatures of that danger level to appear in the Care of Magical Creatures class. After all, the Hippogriff's danger rating in the magical classification system was only XXX.
Yes, only.
Because last year, the Cornish Pixie that Lockhart had prepared also had three X's! And the eight-eyed Acromantula that Tver brought to class was even more dangerous, yet no one said anything.
Of course, the difference was that a student had suffered, well, what appeared to be quite serious injuries.
"I think wrapping your hand in such thick bandages makes you look... more incompetent?"
Tver had just stepped out of the office when he encountered Malfoy rushing out of the infirmary. He also noticed the peculiar bandaging.
He could see at a glance that the wound underneath was nearly healed, and in a little while, there probably wouldn't even be a scar.
Malfoy thought about it and realized he was probably right. He abruptly flung the sling from his hand, though the bandages proved stubborn to untangle.
"Professor, may I join your Defence Against the Dark Arts club?" he asked hopefully, his eyes fixed on the professor.
He'd learned of the club yesterday at noon and had been eager to join ever since. Only his afternoon injury had delayed him until now.
But Tver merely tapped his arm.
"If you haven't even developed the instinct to avoid harm, you cannot participate."
"But—" A flicker of panic crossed Malfoy's face. "That creature moved so fast! I was too close—I didn't have time to react!"
"Then Hagrid should never have brought such a creature into the classroom!"
"And that is your justification for insulting a living creature?"
"I—" Malfoy immediately lowered his head.
Tver sighed and patted his shoulder.
"I've said it many times in class: never casually disparage any creature. Even if not now, they may cause you great harm in the future."
"If you could treat every creature with a bit more kindness, I can't guarantee it will bring you great benefit, but it will certainly make your life run more smoothly."
"I'm sorry, Professor."
Malfoy kept his head bowed, lips pressed tightly together.
"Those words shouldn't be directed at me."
Tver remarked indifferently, walking straight past him toward the Colosseum with his belongings.
Draco Malfoy always inadvertently revealed his arrogant flaws. Without a firm reminder, this tendency could easily escalate into more severe moral issues. But first, he needed to do some soul-searching himself.
Stepping into the Colosseum, Tver met the morning sun.
His delay meant he arrived after the students had already gathered, lining up conscientiously by house. Surveying the fifth-years, their faces brimming with anticipation, he nodded with satisfaction.
"This year is crucial for you. Your O.W.L.s results will directly impact the jobs you can pursue later—and to put it bluntly, they could shape your entire lives."
"So I expect you to give every lesson your absolute best effort, and every single point in your textbooks, no matter the subject."
"I look forward to seeing you all in the advanced classes next year."
The students finally relaxed a bit. After all, talk of life's trajectory felt distant to fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds.
"Professor, if your club stays open to us, I'd stay at Hogwarts even if I never graduated!" Davies declared loudly.
The young wizards instantly beamed at him. The Weasley twins even leaped over their squad, pinning him on either side.
"Damn it, how could you blurt out our thoughts?!"
"What if the professor finds out about our plan and deliberately lets us graduate smoothly?!"
Tver watched them clown around with amusement.
"Relax, even if you never graduate, I won't let you join my club."
"..."
The students' smiles vanished instantly. Davies and the others stopped fooling around and immediately stood at attention.
"Professor, you can't do this!"
"Just give us a standard! I'll work my ass off to meet it—even if it means skipping sleep!"
"Like... only accepting girls?" Tver teased.
George, Fred, and the others exchanged a silent glance.
"Not impossible..." they gritted out.
"...Forget it. I don't want to see you lot in skirts either."
Tver was utterly exasperated by their shamelessness.
"Club membership depends on the final roster. I'll select students with the greatest potential for growth—not necessarily the strongest..."
—"Then we've got a great shot!" George beamed.
"But definitely those with the strongest receptivity—at least willing to accept some... potentially unconventional content."
——"That suits us perfectly—we never follow the rules," Fred laughed even harder, but seeing the professor's face darken, he quickly added, "Of course, we'll follow your rules."
"In short, any student wishing to join the club must give this serious consideration. I'll give you two weeks to decide."
"Within those two weeks, you may come forward to sign up at any time, or withdraw at any time."
"Naturally, those selected may also choose to leave at any time, though I would prefer you persevere."
They did indeed hesitate.
Especially when considering the professor's Durmstrang background—while free of prejudice, that school did teach dark magic, after all!
They were deeply suspicious the professor might teach dark magic in the club...
Tver offered no explanation. He did intend to cover some dark magic concepts in the club, but he absolutely had no intention of teaching them to use dark magic. If he actually did that, Dumbledore would be the first to arrest him...
"Alright, think about it after class. No need to stress too much—you might get screened out anyway even if you sign up."
"ರ_ರ..."
The students had lost count of how many times the professor had stabbed them in the heart.
They'd barely savored the feeling of being chosen before being left speechless.
Tver was pleased with the effect of his words. He clapped his hands, drawing their attention back to him.
At least it was friendly attention.
"Now, let's formally begin the first lesson of this academic year."
"Do you recall the very first class two years ago?"
"I remember it perfectly!" Davies blurted out immediately, oblivious to the faint chuckles from his classmates.
"Back then, we wanted to duel you, but ended up getting hung up. I've been longing to experience that again..."
Noticing the strange looks from his classmates, he hastily added, "I mean, experience your combat training!"
Tver shot him a peculiar glance before resuming the lesson.
"Indeed, after two years of study, I believe your abilities have improved considerably."
"So, shall we revisit what we covered two years ago?"