I Won't Kill You

Penelope's scream made it impossible for the contents of their conversation to remain secret.

The entire Great Hall buzzed with students whispering among themselves, while some pointed at Tver.

Although the prefects were maintaining order, they could not stop the students from discussing him.

"I never expected the new professor to be from Durmstrang!"

"He's only eighteen, just three years older than me!"

"It's normal for a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor to know some dark magic, isn't it?"

"How can he teach us Defence if he doesn't understand dark magic?"

"What a pity. Professor Fawley only teaches first- to third-years. I wonder if it's too late for me to repeat a year."

No matter how thick-skinned Tver was, he could not withstand the students gossiping about him like this. He simply left and arrived early at Classroom Eighteen, where he would soon be teaching.

His first lesson that morning was for third-years, with Gryffindor and Ravenclaw sharing the class.

The classroom had no unnecessary decorations yet, only a teacher's desk and several tables and chairs arranged at the front.

A large open space had been left at the back, waiting for Tver to arrange it.

By the time George Weasley and Fred Weasley rushed into the classroom, it was already filled with the classmates attending the lesson with them.

"Look at you. You gave the Ton-Tongue Toffee to Wood and got us chased by him for a full half hour!" Fred grumbled, bumping George with his shoulder.

"Don't worry, class hasn't officially started yet." George raised an eyebrow mischievously.

"If you two don't come in now, I'll have to mark you absent."

Tver waved the parchment in his hand at the two standing in the doorway. It bore the list of students for this class.

Most of the names on it glimmered with golden light, except for theirs.

Only then did George and Fred realize what was happening, hurrying into the classroom.

But the instant they stepped inside, several golden letters popped up above each of their heads.

They were their names.

A layer of golden light detached itself from the letters and, like little birds, flew out from above their heads and back to the parchment in Tver's hand as though returning to their nests.

Only then did their names on it glow with golden light.

However, the names above their heads did not disappear, making it easier for Tver to remember them.

"That's brilliant!" Fred's eyes sparkled.

"Professor, I want to learn that!"

George looked at Tver expectantly, while Fred nodded beside him.

It was a simple name magic, though it also involved a small application of the soul.

Tver put away the parchment and revealed a mysterious smile, full of some malicious amusement.

"Trust me, even though you've already done plenty of forbidden things, Headmaster Dumbledore would not be pleased to see you learn this."

The students immediately felt a chill run through their hearts.

Thinking of the information that had spread through the Great Hall that day, this kind Professor Fawley did not seem nearly as immature as he looked.

On the contrary, remembering the two Defence Against the Dark Arts professors who had left after only a year, they felt that Professor Fawley would very likely be arrested as a dark wizard and thrown into Azkaban by the end of the school year.

So the moment George's backside touched his chair, he impatiently asked, "Professor Fawley, I heard you graduated from Durmstrang this year, is that right?"

Tver removed the magic he had placed at the entrance and answered without looking back, "Mr. Weasley, remember to raise your hand before asking a question next time."

Then he turned to face the students, who all shared the same question. "That's right. I did indeed come from that school."

The classroom immediately erupted into an uproar.

"Professor, do you really study dark magic?"

"Will you teach us dark magic?"

"Is that man's mark still inside Durmstrang?"

The students scrambled to throw question after question at Tver. Some even stood up directly and demanded answers in loud voices.

"Quiet!" Tver's voice was not loud, but to the students' ears, it seemed to echo through their very souls.

The moment his words fell, the students were stunned senseless by the force of his voice.

After a moment of recovery, they discovered in shock that they could no longer hear anything they or their classmates said!

We haven't gone deaf, have we?!

Just as they began to panic, Tver's voice sounded again.

"You haven't gone deaf. This is just a small punishment. From now on, remember that you must raise your hands before speaking." Seeing the students visibly relax, he gave a cold smile. "Also, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw will each lose ten points."

Fred shot his hand into the air. Only after Tver nodded did he realize that sound had returned when he spoke.

"Professor, we don't even have any points yet. How are you going to deduct them?"

The students covered their mouths and giggled.

"That is indeed a problem. Then let's save it up—one extra point per day—until your house has enough points to deduct."

Tver's words were like a smile-vanishing spell. The students' hearts instantly filled with "respect" for their new professor.

"As for Durmstrang, I don't want to spend too much time introducing it in class. You only need to know one thing: studying the Dark Arts does not mean we are Dark wizards."

Tver felt that an explanation was necessary. He still wanted to become a teacher deeply "beloved" by his students.

"As for Grindelwald..." He paused, waiting until the name had captured the students' attention.

"His symbol is indeed still present at the school, but his ideology is like Hogwarts's pure-blood doctrine—there are plenty of supporters everywhere."

"That does not mean the students all support his ideas, especially since there are many students at the school who lost family members because of Grindelwald. They gave those students, who thought spreading that symbol was cool, a harsh lesson."

"So, in my view, Durmstrang merely replaced Defence Against the Dark Arts with Dark Arts studies. Other than that, there is not much difference between the two schools."

A male student named Roger Davies raised his hand.

"Professor Fawley, I heard Durmstrang does not accept Muggle-born students. Is that true?"

"You are correct, Mr. Davies. In our view, Muggle-born students find it difficult to resist the temptation of the Dark Arts."

"Only when parents can also provide magical guidance can students truly understand the nature of the Dark Arts."

Seeing another student raise a hand, Tver decided he did not want to turn this lesson into a Durmstrang promotional session.

"All right. If you have any questions about Durmstrang, you can ask me later. Now, we will officially begin our first lesson—my first lesson as well."

"Come to think of it, I thought you would be looking forward to this more."

"So, who can tell me what we learn in Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

The question was far too simple. Even George could answer it easily. "We learn how to use magic to protect ourselves from dark creatures and the Dark Arts, as well as some offensive and defensive spells."

"That's right. So, at the start of this course, I need to find out how proficient you are with magic."

Tver clapped his hands, drawing every student's attention.

"The quickest way is through combat—combat between me and you." The corners of his mouth curled up, and his eyes crinkled with delight.

The students' eyes widened in shock, their pupils trembling as though struck by an earthquake, their mouths hanging wide open.

"Don't worry. I won't kill you."