July 31st.
Tver arrived half an hour early, Apparating directly to the gates of Hogwarts.
He had chosen Apparition over the more convenient Floo Powder simply because the latter was never elegant. The last thing he wanted was to show up formally dressed but with soot all over his face.
As a Durmstrang student, Tver knew he had to tread carefully around everyone at Hogwarts. Especially with the influence of his teachers, maintaining a proper image in front of outsiders was paramount.
But he'd come a bit too early. The gates were still shut, and there was no sign of the "designated guide" mentioned in the letter.
He let out a helpless yawn.
Since seeing the name Ravenclaw, Tver had been poring over that strange book. Though it hadn't seized control of his mind again, its contents offered no real help—just vague overviews, even more superficial than his undergrad thesis in his previous life.
"Good morning. You must be Mr. Fawley?"
Just as Tver was silently complaining, an elderly yet elegant witch appeared beside him.
She wore square glasses, her black hair curled into a high bun, and a deep green robe. Her meticulous appearance made her look like a stern teacher.
"Minerva McGonagall. I'm Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts. You may call me Professor McGonagall."
Noticing Tver's gaze, she introduced herself at once.
A wave of buried memories hit him. In his previous life, Professor McGonagall was a name everyone knew. But unlike the movies, her expression in real life was far more reserved.
"Please, just call me Tver. Thank you for coming to meet me," he said with a warm smile.
Perhaps his demeanor wasn't quite what she expected from a Durmstrang student, because Professor McGonagall's lips relaxed slightly as she gave him a small nod.
"Professor Quirrell and Headmaster Dumbledore are already waiting. Let's go."
"I hope I'm not late."
Tver followed Professor McGonagall into the place he had long dreamed of.
She didn't bother introducing him to the castle—just replied offhandedly, "They're quite looking forward to this interview."
Her tone was still somewhat distant, as if his Durmstrang background put her on edge. He wondered what Dumbledore thought.
They hurried through the castle. The normally mischievous staircases behaved themselves under the Deputy Headmistress's presence, guiding them smoothly to the eighth floor.
"Sherbet lemon," McGonagall said.
The stone gargoyle at the entrance leapt aside, and the wall behind it split open. A spiraling staircase slowly emerged.
"Go on in. They're waiting in the Headmaster's office."
"Thank you very much for guiding me."
Tver gave her a polite bow, then stepped onto the staircase.
As it ascended, a gleaming wooden door came into view at the top.
He took two steps forward, and the door opened automatically.
What lay before him was a round office, simple yet refined.
To the left, portraits of past Hogwarts headmasters lined the wall. As Tver entered, the figures within all narrowed their eyes, sizing him up.
To the right stood a row of bookshelves and a curtain that blocked part of the room from view.
In the center was a long table cluttered with odd silver instruments, rotating and puffing out wisps of smoke.
Behind the table, a gold-and-red phoenix perched on a stand, tilting its head to observe him.
In front of the table sat a young man wrapped in a large scarf, arms crossed over his chest, his body trembling slightly.
Behind the table sat an old man with a white beard and hair.
His long beard was hidden by the tabletop, and his piercing blue eyes, magnified through half-moon spectacles, gleamed brightly—fixed on Tver.
"Welcome, friend from afar."
Dumbledore moved around the table with surprising agility for his age and came to stand in front of Tver.
"Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts."
Dumbledore maintained eye contact with Tver, yet he didn't find it uncomfortable.
"Tver Fawley. I daresay even young wizards who haven't started school yet know your name."
Tver calmly shook hands with the legendary figure. Meeting the man hailed as the greatest wizard for the first time, he didn't feel the pressure he expected—if anything, he felt rather at ease.
Maybe it was because he was used to situations like this.
"Please, don't say that. Such praise is far too heavy for an old man."
Dumbledore turned to the hooded man beside them.
"Let me introduce you. Quirinus Quirrell—he'll be the new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Quirrell was already standing to the side. The muscles in his face twitched as he forced a stiff smile. His gaze flickered away, and his body trembled slightly as he shook hands with Tver.
"I heard... there would be an assistant professor... I was so excited I couldn't sleep."
He stammered, and Tver had to put in twice the effort just to understand him.
"I'm also looking forward to working with you. But we'll need Headmaster Dumbledore's approval first, right?"
Dumbledore chuckled softly, saying nothing as he gestured for both of them to take a seat.
The three sat down around the table. With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore asked,
"Would you like something to drink? Tea? Pumpkin juice? Or perhaps some wine? I've heard Durmstrang students enjoy drinking."
"That's just a common misconception. Not all Durmstrang students like to drink. Personally, I'd much prefer a glass of pumpkin juice right now."
Tver held Dumbledore's gaze, his words carrying a subtle implication.
With a thoughtful flick of his wand, Dumbledore summoned a glass of pumpkin juice, which floated in front of Tver.
Tver had been eager to try the famous drink. He took it without hesitation and sipped. The moment the sweet flavor hit his tongue, his eyes lit up.
It was rich and smooth, with a hint of creaminess. He instantly fell in love with it.
"You seem to like pumpkin juice quite a bit. Would you like me to send you some? I've got a whole bucket of it here."
Dumbledore had clearly noticed Tver's reaction.
So, you enjoy playing with words too...
Tver let out a quiet sigh. The prejudice against Durmstrang ran deeper than he'd expected. Even Dumbledore was somewhat wary.
"No, thank you. I'm not fond of excess."
"I rarely meet Durmstrang students who speak so eloquently."
Apparently growing tired of the cryptic back-and-forth, Dumbledore got straight to the point.
"Especially one applying to Hogwarts as a teaching assistant. As far as I know, you're the first to do so."
"That's why I'm curious. Would you mind answering a few of my questions?"