Since Dumbledore had run into the teacher at the Wizards' Union and again in Godric's Hollow, why hadn't either of them mentioned it to him at the time?
Still, Tver didn't dare ask such questions lightly…
After the seminar ended that night, he tried to contact the teacher.
But the teacher seemed to have vanished once more. Even after Cynthia searched several places where he might have appeared, following Tver's instructions, she found nothing.
This had never happened before, yet Tver wasn't worried.
If Dumbledore was right, the teacher's strength had already recovered to nearly ninety percent. In the entire wizarding world, aside from Dumbledore himself, there was practically no one capable of harming him.
So he was probably taking a break, or perhaps… revisiting old places?
The past between him and Dumbledore was known only to the two of them. Tver didn't want to speculate too much, so after failing to reach the teacher, he stopped trying.
Besides, he had new matters to deal with.
Just as Dumbledore had said, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would arrive on October 30th.
And on that very morning, while teaching his class, Tver noticed that his students were unusually distracted.
To be honest, this was the first time he'd encountered such a situation since becoming so popular at the school.
"What's wrong? Is the Lethifold not interesting anymore? I went out of my way to buy this one from an old African wizard."
Tver pointed at the ground, where a Lethifold lay flattened against the floor.
Despite its name, the creature had nothing to do with Voldemort. Judging by its appearance, it actually resembled a Dementor more closely.
The Lethifold's limbs were spread wide. Like an ordinary bat, it had thin yet tough black wings, somewhat like a Dementor's robes, though its fully extended size was clearly much larger.
Just this one on the floor, supposedly not yet fully grown, was already as wide as a classroom desk.
When hunting, a Lethifold lay completely still like this, waiting until its prey let its guard down before lunging with astonishing speed.
However, much like Dementors, Lethifolds possessed an instinctive fear of the Patronus Charm.
Most fourth-year students had no way of dealing with a Lethifold yet, so Tver simply had Harry and Draco come up to demonstrate twice before letting everyone observe freely.
"Professor, I think their minds are already on the evening," Hermione said with a giggle, covering her mouth.
Harry and Ron both let out awkward laughs.
"Professor McGonagall told us to be more enthusiastic, you know, to properly welcome guests who've come from far away," Ron muttered in defense.
"Professor, maybe you could tell us about Durmstrang?" Draco sneaked a glance at Tver. Seeing that he seemed in a good mood, he asked tentatively.
"Haven't I told you about it plenty of times already?"
Seeing that class was almost over, Tver put the poor Lethifold, which he had been keeping suppressed the entire time, back into its cage.
"But we're still curious. What kind of school could produce a professor as outstanding as you?" Draco delivered the flattery with practiced ease.
"Shameless flatterer," Ron muttered under his breath. Still, he didn't object. Instead, he looked at the professor with clear curiosity.
The other students were much the same. What annoyed them wasn't that Draco was flattering the professor, but that the one doing it wasn't them.
Tver smiled and swept his gaze across the class.
"I remember that when I first arrived at Hogwarts, you were all worried I might use dark magic on you."
"That was because we didn't understand back then! After three years with you—no, honestly, after just the very first lesson—we already knew you were a great professor!" Ron blurted out.
"All right, all right," Tver said, feeling a little embarrassed by the praise.
"But I'm afraid I'll disappoint you. I'm actually something of an exception at Durmstrang. If you use me as the standard, you'll end up with a very misleading impression of my alma mater."
The students froze. This was the first time the professor had ever said something like this.
In their minds, students from Durmstrang should all be like him: elegant, humble, powerful, and fond of sweets.
So… Durmstrang didn't like sweets?
"You mean they're… um… more rough around the edges?" Hermione asked.
She recalled some descriptions of Durmstrang she'd read in books. At first, when she compared them to the professor, she'd thought those books were exaggerating wildly.
"It's more accurate to call them tough. Living in cold regions year after year, they prefer a direct, efficient way of talking. After all, the less time they spend outdoors, the less their bodies suffer from the cold."
"So they don't like desserts either?" Draco asked, voicing what everyone cared about most.
After all, in order to get along well with the guests from Durmstrang, they had prepared all kinds of cookies and sweets.
Especially after noticing that there were more desserts in the meals this year than ever before, they had become even more certain of it.
It had to be something the school deliberately arranged for the guests.
But…
Tver stared, dumbfounded, as they patted their pockets and pulled out little cakes and other treats.
He rubbed his forehead and shook his head with a helpless smile.
"That's just my personal taste. Who told you that Durmstrang students like sweets?"
Draco immediately brought up what he had noticed during mealtimes, leaving Tver even more at a loss for words.
Fortunately, the bell rang just then, sparing him further embarrassment.
"Alright, put everything away. When the Durmstrang students arrive this evening, you can ask them yourselves whether they like desserts."
This small interruption only highlighted the students' curiosity about the other two European schools. At lunchtime, Tver saw several groups of students gathered together, loudly discussing Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.
Some of them had acquaintances studying at those schools, while others had simply read a lot and thought they knew plenty about them.
It was just that much of it was clearly inaccurate…
"I've never heard of Beauxbatons having a fountain made of gold," Professor Flitwick said, withdrawing his gaze with a peculiar expression.
"Maybe they think that one of Beauxbatons' governors, Mr. Nicolas Flamel, would like something in that style."
Tver suddenly recalled a casual conversation he'd once had with Dumbledore.
The Elixir of Life Nicolas Flamel had stored could still last for a while, but only a few more years.
According to Dumbledore, they wanted to witness the arrival of the new millennium, and then leave this world at that moment.
Deep down, Tver was actually interested in meeting this legendary figure.
Not because of the Philosopher's Stone, but because he wanted to see how someone who might be the longest-living wizard on record had pushed past the limits of life.
The more he studied the subject of life and death, the more constraints he encountered.
Especially when he thought about how none of the three Founders had chosen immortality, instead facing death without hesitation. It made him realize that the boundary of death was far more difficult to cross than he had once imagined…