By this point, Draco had already returned from the common room to the office.
He thoughtfully chose not to knock, instead waiting outside while humming some random tune.
Since he meant well, Tver did not mind letting him wait a little longer.
Lately, the boy had been taking advantage of the "compensation" for not being saved during the Second Task, dropping by whenever he had free time.
If Tver did not have more free time than him, he would barely even have time for tea!
"Professor, about Barty Crouch…"
"You're still suspecting Barty?" Tver suddenly felt like calling Draco in.
Why were they so fixated on Barty? The man was currently working diligently at the Ministry of Magic, building his career, and was about to be promoted to Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic.
For Barty, this position was actually a temporary compromise.
The title sounded impressive, but in reality, it was often little more than an echo of the Minister's will.
And Fudge clearly would not grant him much real authority.
But for Tver, things were different. The Department of International Magical Cooperation that Barty left behind could be handed to Cynthia.
As one of the six senior officials across the department's three divisions, Cynthia might have fewer years of service, but her achievements were far more impressive.
With the support of the Aurors led by Marvolio, her effectiveness in combating international crime even surpassed some divisions of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
On top of that, with her strong connections and Barty Crouch's recommendation after his promotion, even Fudge would have no grounds to oppose her appointment.
In Tver's eyes, the British Ministry of Magic was already within his grasp.
And yet Harry and the others still suspected this capable subordinate of his.
"I know Sirius told you that Barty's son is a Death Eater, but I can assure you that Barty has neither the motive nor the ability to harm you at Hogwarts. Do you understand?"
"To be blunt, the danger you'll face in the third task is far greater than anything Barty could pose."
Harry did not fully understand, but the mention of the third task immediately drew his attention.
"Professor…"
He lowered his voice and carefully glanced around the office, which was known for its excellent privacy.
"Do you know anything about the third task?"
"You can figure it out just by guessing. Three is one plus two," Tver said casually, clearly making things up. "So the third task is a combination of the first two."
"A combination? How?" Harry asked, completely confused.
"Simple. You fight a dragon in the Black Lake and take the golden egg it's guarding."
"..."
Now Harry finally realized the professor was joking.
"No matter what the task turns out to be, practicing magic is what you should focus on right now. Don't waste your time suspecting Barty. It's not worth it."
"And about Voldemort, if you have more dreams like that, come straight to me. If your scar starts hurting badly, I can also prepare some potions for you."
Tver took a small vial filled with potion from a drawer and placed it in Harry's hand.
"Three drops each time. Mix it into your drink. It should ease the discomfort."
It was only a calming potion. After all, Harry's condition was completely unique, and there was no specific potion to deal with it.
"Alright, go call Draco in from outside."
Realizing the professor was dismissing him, Harry quickly slipped the vial into his pocket.
But just as his hand touched the doorknob, he hesitated and turned back.
"Professor… is Peter Pettigrew dead?"
If the professor stayed vague, he could still convince himself it had only been a dream, just one that felt unusually real.
But the professor's serious attitude toward it just now made him sense something different.
It shattered some of his lingering illusions.
"What, are you worried about Peter?" Tver did not answer directly. Instead, he looked at Harry with interest and asked the question back.
"I…" Harry suddenly did not know what to say.
Peter was the one who had betrayed his family. That hatred was something Harry would never forget.
But seeing Peter collapse in fear before Voldemort, even on the verge of death, left him feeling deeply unsettled.
The contradiction confused him.
Was he actually feeling sympathy for Peter?
No. No, that was not it.
Harry shook his head hard. It had to be because dying so easily would be too good for him.
"I just want to know whether he's dead. That's all."
"Dumbledore wouldn't like such an dishonest answer," Tver said with a faint smile, shaking his head.
"In this world, admitting your own kindness is often harder than admitting your sins."
"Many people write to me to criticize me. They say house-elves love working, love being enslaved, that it's in their nature, and they don't understand why we want to improve their status."
"But look at Dobby. Compare how he was at the Malfoys' with how he is now. No one can see that and remain unmoved."
He raised a hand and lightly pointed in the air, opening the door for Harry.
"Harry, the reason we want to make the world better, and keep striving toward it, is because of the kindness buried deep inside us, and our longing for something better."
"Of course," Tver added, looking at both Harry and Draco, who stood there in confusion, "don't let that kindness end up hurting yourself or others. If it does, it becomes no different from evil."
"Uh…" Draco scratched his head, completely lost.
The moment the door opened, he had rushed in, only to hear this strange lecture.
"Why kindness? Isn't strength alone enough?"
"Of course it is." Draco's face brightened, but then he saw Tver take a calm sip of pumpkin juice.
"That is, if you want everything you build to fall apart once your strength fails, or after you die."
"Any great undertaking that lasts cannot rely on a single person's strength. That's one of the most basic rules of this world."
"..."
Draco's expression darkened immediately. He did not dare argue with the professor, so he simply gave Harry, who was still standing at the doorway in a daze, an annoyed shove.
Once Harry stumbled out, Draco slammed the door shut.
Today, he was staying here for both lunch and dinner. He was determined to study until curfew.