Mysterious Hogwarts

September 1st.

After packing all his belongings into his wallet, Tver took the dark crimson robe Jeff handed him.

The robe looked black at first glance, but beside true black, one could see the dark red within it, like congealed blood.

"Young Master has reached the age to start working too," Jeff said with a smile, tears glimmering faintly in his eyes.

In his memories, Tver had still been a tiny child. Now, he had grown into a professor who taught and guided others.

"Don't make it sound like I've done something so remarkable." Tver knelt on one knee and hugged the little elf.

"In my eyes, Young Master Tver has always been remarkable," Jeff said softly.

When Tver arrived at the gates of Hogwarts again, he found them even cleaner than before, as though they had been meticulously scrubbed.

And the gates stood wide open.

Was this Hogwarts' confidence? They were not worried in the slightest that ill-intentioned wizards might break in?

"It seems you're ready to become a professor, Tver. No, I should call you Professor Fawley."

Professor McGonagall gave him an appraising look, clearly pleased by Tver's proper attire and appearance.

His looks alone were enough to make him the most eye-catching professor in the school.

Professor McGonagall was still the one guiding Tver, but her expression was noticeably more relaxed and at ease.

"In front of you, I'm still a student."

Tver replied with a smile.

During this time, he had been corresponding with Professor McGonagall, mainly to learn about Hogwarts' teaching arrangements.

To be honest, it surprised Tver somewhat.

Hogwarts' course schedule was not particularly demanding for students, but it was far harsher on the professors responsible for teaching.

There were seven compulsory subjects at the school, and thus seven compulsory-subject professors—though there was now one additional teaching assistant.

These professors were responsible for teaching the entire school.

But there were seven year groups and four Houses!

Other than the sixth- and seventh-year students, who attended classes together by year, the remaining five year groups had two Houses sharing each class.

Furthermore, every subject had to be taught for at least two consecutive periods each week, with each period lasting an hour and a half.

That meant the compulsory-subject professors had to work at least thirty-six hours across five days every week!

And that did not include grading assignments, preparing lessons, and all the other miscellaneous tasks.

Disrespectful as it might sound, Professor Binns, who taught History of Magic, had most likely died from overwork...

And perhaps Defence Against the Dark Arts professors became an annual replacement because they could not endure the intense workload of an entire year...

Fortunately, Tver had applied for a teaching assistant position and only needed to teach first- through third-years.

Quirrell would not even have to wait until the end of the school year before finding time to steal the Philosopher's Stone!

How considerate!

"But why don't I see any luggage?" Professor McGonagall looked curiously at the unburdened Tver. "The professors all live in the castle, since there simply isn't enough time to travel back and forth."

"I have a special little parcel."

Tver patted his pocket and winked at Professor McGonagall.

"Very well, then let me show you around the place where you'll be working in the future."

As they entered Hogwarts Castle with Professor McGonagall, she cleaned the castle's statues and suits of armour with great interest while introducing Hogwarts to Tver.

"There aren't many professors in the school, so we're rather busy. Albus especially—most of the school's administrative work is usually handled by me, so if you need anything, you can come to me."

There was a hint of complaint in Professor McGonagall's voice, and Tver did not dare agree with her.

"That only shows how satisfied Headmaster Dumbledore is with your management. He trusts you enough to leave the school in your hands."

"Come to think of it, you're rather different from the Durmstrang I imagined."

Professor McGonagall looked at Tver curiously.

"The Durmstrang you imagined?"

Tver struck a gorilla-like pose.

"Surely you don't mean the image of a rugged face covered in beard, a booming voice, a body packed with muscles, and an aura steeped in Dark magic?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head with a light laugh.

"My mistake. But at the very least, you're far more humorous than I imagined. The students will like you very much."

"I hope so."

Professor McGonagall led Tver to a room on the third floor, situated between Quirrell's Defence Against the Dark Arts office and the Trophy Room.

"This is your office. You may arrange it however you like, but don't make it too... peculiar."

Having worked alongside quite a few Defence Against the Dark Arts professors, Professor McGonagall seemed to have seen plenty of peculiar things.

"It probably won't be worse than displaying specimens in the classroom."

Twer recalled what he had seen in the basement—the Potions classroom.

Even at Durmstrang, they would not brazenly put such things on display. It was practically like writing "I'm not a good person" across their foreheads.

The room was spacious, furnished with only a desk and several bookshelves, which Twer would need to fill himself.

Further inside was another room—Twer's bedroom.

The bedroom, however, was not as sparse as the outer room. It had been fully furnished, and curtains bearing the Hogwarts crest had even been thoughtfully hung up.

"Since I didn't know what sort of office you liked, I didn't take the liberty of decorating it for you. If there's anything you wish to add, you can come to me anytime."

"I'm very satisfied. In fact, I couldn't be more satisfied. I can clearly feel how much care you've shown me."

Twer nodded in satisfaction. It could not compare to his room at the manor, but it was already very good.

Compared to cramped Durmstrang, Hogwarts Castle was clearly more spacious.

Though there were more students, there were fewer professors!

So the professors still had plenty of living space.

Professor McGonagall then led Twer down to the first floor.

"This is Classroom Eleven, the classroom where you'll be teaching the students from now on."

Twer looked at the classroom in surprise. His office was already quite spacious, yet this classroom was at least twice as large!

"This is the largest classroom in the school. Dumbledore prepared it especially for you, saying that you would need sufficient space for teaching."

Professor McGonagall explained that this classroom had rarely been used in recent years. It was large enough to fit an entire grassland.

That was why she was also curious about what Twer intended to teach in this classroom.

Everyone would find out once classes officially began, so Twer did not explain. Instead, he was quite pleased by Dumbledore's thoughtfulness.

Under Professor McGonagall's guidance, Twer had taken a rough tour of most of the castle and gained an initial understanding of the ancient place.

As for the specifics, he would have to explore them slowly himself.

As night fell, Professor McGonagall brought Twer to the Great Hall.

The moment Twer stepped into the Great Hall, the clouds on the ceiling churned and flashed, while the candles above lit up at Professor McGonagall's spell.

"The magic up there is rather peculiar. It has been like this ever since I was a student at Hogwarts, occasionally producing some clever changes," Professor McGonagall explained.

"Very interesting. Hogwarts' mysteries have made me look forward to the life ahead even more." A faint smile curled at Twer's lips.