Lucius finally worked it out.
Even back when he served under Voldemort, disloyalty among subordinates had never been tolerated. And now, his feelings were tangled and contradictory.
The harsher Tver's methods became, the more it proved that this new leader truly had the resolve and capability to lead them toward real victory. At the very least, he was far more competent than that Dark Lord who had personally gone after a baby and still managed to fail.
Not long after Lucius left, a wave of raucous cheering came crashing into the castle.
"We're the champions!"
"Potter! Potter! Potter!"
"Gryffindor forever!"
Even with soundproofing charms layered throughout his office, the noise poured straight into Tver's ears.
So Gryffindor had won in the end.
That wasn't surprising. Aside from raw strength, Slytherin lagged behind Gryffindor in nearly every respect. They also weren't particularly fond of training, so this result had been well within Tver's expectations.
Draco was probably stewing again.
Thankfully, the boy was good at regulating himself. With any luck, he would soon turn that frustration into drive and focus on studying magic with him.
Honestly, what was so fun about Quidditch anyway?
Tver ate his cupcake with a look of open disdain.
...
It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that he wasn't good at flying.
"Knock, knock—"
"Creak."
Draco stared at the door that opened instantly, too surprised to dwell on his grievances.
His clothes were slightly disheveled, and he was holding his Nimbus 2001. It was obvious he had rushed over the moment he changed out of his match uniform.
"Come in," Tver said with a smile.
"Uh, Professor, I…" Draco hesitated.
Earlier, he'd been so furious that he'd charged straight here, thinking only of learning more magic so he could do better next time. Now that he'd finally calmed down, he realized he hadn't spared a thought for what the professor might think.
Calm down, Draco!
The match is already over. You can't afford to annoy the professor too!
He hastily reminded himself.
"I expected you to rally yourself again," Tver said with a chuckle. "But I'll admit, I didn't expect it to happen this quickly."
"Still, that's a good thing. When nothing can knock you down, it means you're ready to stand on your own in this world."
Draco's gloom vanished in an instant, replaced by renewed confidence. The praise left him practically floating.
So Potter won the match. Big deal. Does he have anywhere near as much room to grow as I do?
But Draco's private thoughts were hardly enough to dampen Harry and the others' celebration.
After Charlie left school and before their current captain Wood graduated, Gryffindor finally claimed the Quidditch Cup once more.
The little lions, who had been waiting for this moment far too long, celebrated for the entire weekend. Even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, despite their less-than-friendly relations with Slytherin, joined in the festivities without hesitation.
Joy filled every corner of the castle. The professors, Professor McGonagall especially, chose to look the other way when some of the celebrations went a bit over the top.
The students had their doubts. In private, Professor McGonagall probably looked even happier than they were.
If she hadn't reminded them at the very end, they might well have forgotten that classes were still scheduled for the next day.
The only ones in a bad mood were the Slytherins, led by Snape.
They looked at Gryffindor with barely concealed hostility, as if they might draw their wands and start a duel at any moment.
Even though Draco had long since shaken off the shadow of defeat, when Neville, or even Percy, ran into him in an office corridor, they knew better than to provoke him.
The rest of the students weren't reckless either.
Even the young lions understood that accepting the snakes' provocations now would be pointless. Doing so would only play straight into their hands.
But before long, the joy began to fade with time.
Partly because everything that needed celebrating had already been celebrated. The Weasley twins had nearly exhausted their entire fireworks stockpile.
And partly because…
Exam month was coming.
"The importance of O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s, or final exams doesn't need repeating," Tver said. "Now that you've finished celebrating and all activities have wrapped up, I expect you to focus fully on revision."
Tver was the first to formally kick off end-of-term revision in the castle. He even decisively suspended the Defence Against the Dark Arts club.
By now, everyone's Riddikulus Curse was producing decent results. At the very least, they could reliably force a garish, multicolored skirt onto Davies.
But as Tver had always emphasized, the point of this spell was not simply to let them play pranks on others.
It was to make them understand how personal will influenced the effect of magic.
For these students, grasping magic at this conceptual level was clearly a bit ahead of schedule, even though they were already outstanding.
Still, that kind of exploration was far from meaningless.
Once they became aware of it, the students gradually began thinking about autonomy in spellcasting.
They might stumble a little at first, but Tver was confident they would eventually understand. This was, after all, the foundation of becoming a powerful wizard.
Tver's creation of the Defence Against the Dark Arts club had really been a casual move. For these students to grow into people he could truly make use of would unquestionably take time.
That said, as some of the best spellcasters at Hogwarts, they were bound to become pillars of the wizarding world in the future.
Leaving his mark on them early was simply planning ahead.
As for starting revision so early, Tver's confidence came from Lupin.
For the first time at the end of a school year, someone would be sharing his workload, even if that person's thoughts were still tangled up with former companions.
Lupin genuinely cared about the students.
He personally summarized countless practical tips for dealing with magical creatures, an area where he was arguably even better than Tver.
He also thoughtfully prepared a thick stack of practice exams and revision materials, especially for O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s.
Don't be mistaken. As an excellent Hogwarts graduate, Lupin's grades might not have rivaled Voldemort's, but when it came to distilling exam experience, he was unquestionably superior.
After all, making Marvolio do practice questions was one thing. Asking him to recall the details of exams from fifty years ago was truly asking too much of the Dark Lord.
The students, however, were genuinely suffering.
For the first time, they had finally achieved an ultimate victory in Quidditch.
As June arrived, the sunlight outside the windows grew brighter by the day. Even the distant Dementors looked a little more pleasant.
Two wonderful things should have come together perfectly. So why did those hateful problem sets and revision packets have to exist?
As the Weasley twins put it, "Using weather like this to do practice questions is practically a crime!"
"If you don't start revising properly," Professor McGonagall replied coolly, "I wouldn't mind committing one."
...
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