The unexpected gains from the Chamber of Secrets forced Tver to devote most of his spare time to research.
Especially Salazar's meticulously constructed Transfiguration system.
Each subcategory shared underlying principles. Once he grasped one, he could trace its connections throughout the entire framework.
That said, there were still subtle differences that demanded careful study and a fair amount of time and effort.
Fortunately, there was Lupin.
He was now more than fully prepared to deal with his werewolf transformations.
If the old Lupin had been a regular player, relying purely on endurance and personal ability to get by, then the current Lupin had clearly switched to the "paid build," steamrolling everything with top-tier equipment and potions.
After Tver's friendly "advice" and mutually beneficial "exchange," the Wolfsbane Potion brewed by Snape improved with every batch.
Naturally, the taste grew stranger each time as well. That part was unavoidable.
But since Tver wasn't the one drinking it, what did that matter?
On top of that, Lupin's werewolf bracelet had been upgraded, gaining a sleep-inducing effect.
This allowed him to get through his transformation with almost no physical exhaustion, which was one of the main reasons werewolves usually felt drained afterward.
As for recovery potions after transforming, with Tver's generous supply backing him, Lupin only had two choices: healthy, or even healthier.
With such comprehensive support, Lupin's condition during classes became noticeably more energetic.
After lessons, he no longer needed Tver to hint at anything. He proactively prepared the theory exam papers for the students himself.
He even took over the light-orb game classes for the lower years, cutting Tver's workload by at least half.
Half of the already divided teaching load, to be precise. In other words, a full quarter.
Thanks to this, Tver managed to get a solid grasp of the various techniques Salazar had left behind within a single month.
However, as February drew closer, the damp chill seemed to freeze Tver's thinking.
When it came to Limbo, there was still one small question he couldn't resolve.
Was Limbo an objectively existing space, or was it merely a personal sea of consciousness?
Based on Salazar's notes and Tver's understanding of will-lines, he leaned toward the former.
That Limbo existed as an intermediate layer between the living world of reality and the realm of the dead.
The problem was that the sparse records clearly stated Limbo was shaped by the consciousness of those who entered it.
Combined with what he knew from the original events, Harry had indeed entered a world constructed from his own thoughts.
So Tver found himself stuck, unable to settle on a definitive answer.
If it was the former, he would need to break through space itself.
If it was the latter, things would be much easier. He would only need to intrude into a sea of consciousness.
By the time his research reached this point, Tver was no longer driven solely by Marvolio's resurrection.
He felt that he was touching upon the mysteries of death itself.
Even if immortality held no appeal for him, death as a concept was more than enough to spark his interest.
In the past, he lacked both the time and the foundational knowledge. But after inheriting the profound legacies of the three founders, his research naturally advanced to this level.
Clearly, it was an exceptionally difficult subject.
Still, he didn't dwell on it for long. Not because he had found the answer, but because there was someone at Hogwarts who could give it to him.
Saturday evening.
After dinner, Tver deliberately returned to his office to make thorough preparations before heading toward the top of the castle, the Headmaster's office.
Yes, the weekly discussion sessions were still ongoing.
Only now, the topics he discussed with Dumbledore had expanded beyond Transfiguration to include Muggle Studies, Potions, Charms, Magical Creatures, and even the multi-layered structure of life itself.
And tonight, Limbo would be added to the list.
After all, Dumbledore was one of the only two people Tver knew who had appeared in Limbo during the events of the story.
"Cauldron Cake."
This had recently become Tver's new favorite. It was only sold on the Hogwarts Express, which was why he hadn't tasted it in the Headmaster's office until last week.
When he entered the office, Dumbledore was studying several sheets of parchment.
On the table across from him, small cakes and pumpkin juice had already been thoughtfully set out.
Tver had long grown accustomed to Dumbledore's constant busyness. After all, as the greatest wizard of his age, the number of people corresponding with him far surpassed those writing to Tver.
Still, ever since the summer holidays, Dumbledore had become noticeably more attentive.
He always made sure to prepare plenty of tasty snacks. For example, after Tver mentioned liking Cauldron Cake just last week, Dumbledore had thoughtfully changed the password to match it.
And that wasn't even mentioning the small mountain of cakes piled neatly on the desk.
Had a teacher's charm really become this powerful?
Tver pondered the thought as he skillfully unwrapped the cake.
It wasn't until he had finished his second one, washed down with pumpkin juice, that Dumbledore finally set aside the parchment in his hand.
"Aren't you going to reply?" Tver asked, curious.
"Not this one."
"Mind telling me what it was about?"
"Of course." Dumbledore poured himself a cup of tea before speaking at an unhurried pace.
"It was about Sirius Black."
"Based on my investigations over this period, unless there was a second traitor, it would have been impossible for him to pass information to Voldemort that he himself didn't even know."
Tver nodded slightly.
That line of reasoning made sense. Comparing what Black knew with the classified information Voldemort had obtained would naturally reveal clues.
"So you believe he wasn't the traitor?"
"It's still too early to draw that conclusion. However, since he once attempted to break into the castle, it suggests there is still something inside that he needs to obtain…"
Dumbledore lifted his head from his thoughts.
"Or someone."
That was Dumbledore. Even amidst his endless responsibilities, a bit of careful thought was enough for him to see straight through Black's intentions.
Tver couldn't help but feel impressed.
But Dumbledore's gaze remained fixed on him.
"That's why, during this time, I need you and the other professors to pay closer attention to what's happening in the castle."
"Just be careful not to harm Black."
"With his strength, isn't it risky to hold back?" Tver said casually. "What if he ends up turning the tables on us?"
What he was really worried about was that, after spending so long in Azkaban, Black might have lost his restraint and accidentally hurt ordinary professors or students.
Dumbledore let out a soft chuckle.
"With anyone else, I might worry about safety. But you? Your strength has been improving at a remarkable pace lately. I'd say that in another half year, even ten Blacks wouldn't be a match for you."
Tver waved his hand in feigned embarrassment. The gesture was uncannily similar to Dumbledore's own modest mannerisms, and the words even more so.
"Please don't say that. I'm just an ordinary young man."
Watching Tver imitate him so perfectly, Dumbledore couldn't help but shake his head with a smile.
At one hundred and twelve years old, he sat there with a deep, thoughtful gaze, seeing reflected before him nothing but echoes of his own youth.