Malfoy looked more pleased than if he'd just finished dessert, tilting his head up proudly—only for his smug expression to freeze a moment later.
"Attention, everyone. Our Mr. Troll is heading your way. If you don't want to be squashed flat, deal with him quickly."
Tver stepped aside, allowing the troll to lumber toward the ten first-years in slow motion.
Its pace was sluggish, but each heavy footstep sent a tremor through the ground, shaking the students to their cores.
Harry swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay calm as he fired the first beam of light.
The spell hit the troll squarely on the head but only made it shake its massive skull.
"Hitting the head won't work," Tver explained. "The troll's head may be its weak point, but your spells aren't powerful enough to damage it. Your target should be its eyes."
Encouraged by Harry's attempt, the young wizards hastily fired their own spells. But the troll tilted its head slightly, and three red beams shot past harmlessly.
The creature seemed to realize these tiny humans were aiming for its head.
"Trolls may be stupid," Tver said, "but they're not completely brainless. They won't just stand there and let you attack!"
It was the first real combat practice for the first-years. Until now, they had only fought harmless light orbs that never fought back. Confronted with a hulking creature like this, they were understandably flustered.
Still, they were the top ten of their year. After a few failed attempts, one of their spells finally struck the troll in the eye when it was halfway across the corridor.
The burst of light and impact made the troll roar and clutch its face in pain—but before it could recover, Tver froze it again with a flick of his wand.
"Excellent! Mr. Malfoy successfully hit the troll's eye. Five points to Slytherin!"
Following the same model, Tver guided each year group in turn.
The second-years, with fewer spells to use, worked in coordinated waves under his direction—slowing the troll, targeting its head and eyes—until they finally managed to knock it unconscious just as it reached striking distance.
The third-years had it far harder. Though they knew more spells, they had to fight much closer to the creature. The stench alone was nearly unbearable. If not for the Slowing Charm, they would have been overwhelmed in moments.
Even so, a few students still triggered their protective enchantments, proving just how powerful the badges were. Many realized that even their wizard parents might not be able to cast a full Shield Charm that effectively.
Their gazes burned with newfound admiration for the badges. Those who had one clutched it tightly, reluctant to let it go, afraid they might damage it.
"Very good," Tver said. "Use the Disarming Charm to knock away the club, then control it with the Levitation and Pressure Charms to strike the troll's head. Perfect execution."
As a side note, this strategy had been suggested by Ron from the sidelines.
When the third-years finally managed to subdue the troll completely, the lesson was nearly over.
"Now," Tver announced, "let's invite Mr. Percy Weasley of Gryffindor to demonstrate how to handle a troll at full strength."
Percy took a deep breath and stepped forward slowly.
"Ready, Percy?"
"Ready."
After waking the troll and lifting the slowing charm, Tver stepped back and gave Percy the stage.
As he entered combat stance, Percy's eyes sharpened immediately.
Using the same Impediment Jinx, he targeted the troll's ankle joints. The spells hit true, effectively slowing the creature's movements—its knees even buckled, nearly forcing it down.
But once freed from the slowing effect, the troll began swinging its arms to block incoming spells, and Percy's attacks grew less effective than those of the previous students.
Noticing this, Percy stopped aiming for its head and instead shifted his attacks toward the troll's armpits.
The students burst into laughter, thinking he'd lost his composure and was flailing aimlessly.
Tver's gaze, however, sharpened with interest.
The armpit, in fact, was a common weak spot among humanoid creatures. It contained dense nerves and blood vessels that controlled the upper limbs, along with vital lymphatic tissue.
Protected only by thin skin, it wasn't the most lethal target, but it was far more vulnerable than the troll's thick thighs or heavily muscled torso.
Very few wizards knew such details—studying them was about as rare as finding a wizard who excelled at arithmetic. To most, it seemed irrelevant to magic.
But no matter how Percy had learned it, the fact that he applied it impressed Tver deeply.
Hogwarts really did have too many remarkable students.
He mentally added Percy's name to his private list before calling an end to the duel, stopping him before he accidentally snapped the troll's arm.
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Any further, and what happens next wouldn't be suitable for the younger students to watch."
Percy, though not as observant as Tver, realized that his attacks had already pushed the troll to its limit and promptly lowered his wand.
The students, however, couldn't hide their disappointment.
They might not have understood the purpose of attacking the armpit, but Percy's fluid, confident movements had a natural grace to them—a fighting style that perfectly matched how students imagined themselves one day.
They couldn't hope to emulate Professor Fawley's level of mastery, but Percy's technique? That, they could dream of learning.
"Alright," said Tver, "thank you, Percy, for giving us the final lesson point of the evening. The Impediment Jinx is most effective when aimed at joints rather than random body parts. That's how you maximize a spell's potential."
"You can also think about which other spells could be used to their fullest effect. It's not homework—just something to ponder."
"Now, tonight's lesson is officially over. Please follow Percy back to your dormitories in an orderly fashion."
"Professor, what about the troll?" one young wizard asked, still reluctant to leave after the excitement.
"Why, leave it to Professor Quirrell, of course. He's quite fond of things that smell… distinctive, isn't he?" Tver said with a sly grin and a wink.
The students broke into laughter and filed out of the dungeon.
Only then did the other professors approach.
"A brilliant lesson," said Professor McGonagall, clearly impressed. "To craft separate exercises for each year group—remarkable. It's hard to believe someone so young has such a breadth of knowledge."
She meant it sincerely. At the same age, though she'd been an exceptional student, her practical experience had been far behind. Much of her early teaching had been confined to reciting from textbooks.
It had taken her years as a professor to grasp the principle of adapting lessons to her students, something Tver seemed to do naturally.
"You flatter me," Tver replied with a faint smile, casting a dismissive glance at the troll. "Honestly, tonight's material was beyond the syllabus anyway. I'm not sure how much they actually took in."
Normally, creatures like trolls weren't introduced until fourth year—but this was an opportunity too good to waste.
He hadn't even known where trolls lived, yet Quirrell had somehow managed to find one. Naturally, he wasn't going to let that go unused.
And while the lesson's official purpose was to buy Quirrell time—to divert some professors' attention while he snuck past the obstacles—Tver's true intent was to make Quirrell look even more suspicious.
A troll loose in the castle on Halloween Eve was already alarming enough. But an unconscious professor who later vanished without a trace?
If that didn't make Quirrell the prime suspect, who else could it be?