A Letter from Afar

"Only the weak speak of fairness. The strong speak only of conquest, Tver!"

"But Professor, the strong's mercy is also equality."

July, Durmstrang.

It was not a particularly large school. Its castle had only four floors, and even during the day, its interior felt gloomy and sinister.

In contrast, Durmstrang favored orange and green decorations on its towers and vaulted ceilings, giving it a uniquely magnificent yet solemn charm.

Just like its students, they studied Dark Magic while also mastering defensive arts. Spear and shield existed side by side.

Tver Foley stood on the highest floor of the castle, leaning against the railing as he looked down at the place where he had lived for seven years.

The small castle did not mean the school itself was small. In fact, Durmstrang possessed vast grounds and magnificent scenery.

Before the castle lay an arena used for practicing magic. Like a traditional gladiatorial arena, it hosted dueling tournaments for every year group once a month.

There was also a school-wide dueling tournament, held at the end of the academic year to determine who would claim the Victory Cup.

Thinking of that, Tver could not help but smile.

"From today onward, you can finally fight for first place."

Yes, ever since he had arrived at Durmstrang, Tver had only lost to older students during his first three years.

For the following four years, he had taken first place without question.

But now, they finally had the chance to experience what it felt like to take first.

"Tver, are you really leaving? But the headmaster said that if you were willing, the school could hire you directly as a professor."

"You know Durmstrang suits you best!"

A boy with a buzz cut appeared at some point. He wore only a thin shirt, and as he panted, droplets of water slid across his muscular body and dripped onto the floor.

Tver turned around. No matter how many times he saw him, he still had to marvel at the boy's imposing physique.

Still, he did not need to shave his head into a buzz cut. That was one of his advantages, after all. The strong always had privileges.

"Gone swimming again, Viktor? Be careful not to swim yourself old."

Viktor irritably flung the water from his hair, trying to retaliate that way.

The other boy not only had a handsome face, but even the faint dark circles beneath his eyes seemed to have been frozen in place.

He had looked exactly like this from the day they met.

Tver snapped his fingers, and the droplets Viktor had flung over were stopped between them. Then they shot back even faster, pattering against Viktor's body.

Viktor did not get angry. He raised a hand to shield his face. The droplets could not do anything to his strong body anyway.

Besides, Tver would not be treating him like this anymore.

"Study hard, Viktor." Tver patted him on the shoulder. "I've decided to go to that school. We'll still have chances to meet again."

"But I heard that seven years ago, you rejected that place and came to Durmstrang instead?" Viktor looked somewhat anxious.

"I had reasons I had to come here, and reasons I have to leave."

After bidding Viktor farewell, Tver slowly walked through the castle, taking the opportunity to reminisce about his seven years of school life.

This seemed to be a ritual every graduate had to go through.

To outsiders, Durmstrang was a dangerous school.

In reality, it was.

But beneath that danger lay the school's thorough protective measures.

The most obvious sign was that it had the best Dark Magic treatment hospital, capable of properly handling most injuries caused by Dark Magic.

During their first three years at the school, every student focused primarily on learning healing magic and defensive magic.

Only in their fourth year did they come into contact with Dark Magic, and even then, only Dark Magic within prescribed limits.

If they delved too deeply or harbored too much malice, causing the Dark Magic they studied to become overly dangerous, even Durmstrang would not tolerate it.

Simply because there would be no saving them.

To outsiders, though, studying Dark Magic was already an unforgivable crime. They would not care about the explanation that "only by studying it can one understand how to defend against it."

Of course, the school's "honored alumni" had also contributed to that reputation.

Tver greeted the passing students amiably. At this school, there were as many students who did not know him as there were students who did not study Dark Magic.

After dealing with a few friends, he slowly returned to the dormitory where he had lived for seven years.

Its layout was the same as when he had first arrived seven years ago: clean and tidy, with his suitcase neatly placed beside the bed.

Only this time, he was leaving.

It was the first day after graduation for his class, as well as their final day at the school. His roommates had long since gone their separate ways.

But he could not leave yet.

Taking off his blood-red robe, Tver changed into more casual clothes.

Thanks to his tall, slender frame, whatever he wore always fit him just right.

After smoothing the wrinkles from his clothes, Tver sat quietly sideways on the familiar bed, his posture as straight as a graduate about to attend a job interview.

This was one of the virtues he had learned at Durmstrang.

In the silent dormitory, only the soft rustling of his fingers tracing the badge could be heard, revealing the unrest in his heart.

He was waiting for a letter—a very important reply.

Time trickled by bit by bit. At last, a tapping sound from outside the window broke the stillness of the room, as well as his train of thought.

Tver's heart lurched.

It was a strong owl. Having traveled such a great distance, it was clearly exhausted, yet it still dutifully stood outside the window and tapped the glass with its hard beak.

Tver waved his wand, and the window opened automatically, allowing the owl to fly inside.

The owl landed steadily on the chair and extended one leg toward Tver. A letter was tied to it.

A letter from Hogwarts.

Tver quickly untied it.

His name and address were written on the front of the envelope:

Scandinavian Peninsula, Durmstrang Institute, Leftmost Room on the Second Floor of the Student Dormitory, To Mr. Tver Foley.

He gave a soft laugh.

Just as it had seven years ago, aside from the different address, the envelope's almost compulsive precision made him feel as though he had returned to his previous life, to that intense anticipation of receiving his Hogwarts acceptance letter.

On the back was the Hogwarts crest, one he knew very well.

Unable to wait any longer, he tore open the envelope and took out the letter inside:

Dear Mr. Tver Foley, We are pleased to inform you that your application for the position of teaching assistant in Defense Against the Dark Arts has been accepted. Your interview will be held at ten o'clock in the morning on July 31.

Professor Quirrell and Professor Dumbledore will jointly conduct your interview. Please make the necessary preparations in advance.

We await your owl-borne reply by July 10.

In addition, you may choose to Apparate to the school gates or use Floo Powder to enter the school. Someone will be assigned to guide you.

Deputy Headmistress

Minerva McGonagall, respectfully.