Chapter 19: My Damn Ambition

Tver was unaware of the students' compliments toward him, or rather, he didn't have the leisure to pay attention to the students now.

He encountered a minor problem.

The students highly praised the battle in class, considering it the most valuable combat instruction they had ever experienced.

But in the eyes of certain professors, especially the one known for her strictness, Professor McGonagall, it was a different story.

"I'm not questioning your methods, in fact, I'm glad Hogwarts has another professor skilled in combat," Professor McGonagall pondered for a moment before continuing. "But I hope you consider the children's abilities. Hanging them up like that..."

She paused, struggling to find the right words, so Tver helped her out.

"Inappropriate?"

"Yes, inappropriate," Professor McGonagall nodded heavily. "Simply restraining them would suffice, but hanging them from the ceiling might make parents think we're punishing the students."

Just as Tver was about to explain, Dumbledore, seated nearby, spoke first.

"It's alright, Minerva," he said, gesturing towards the enthusiastic students with his right hand. "As you can see, the students enjoy this approach. As for the parents, I believe once they see their children's skills improving, they won't mind this minor issue."

With the headmaster speaking, Professor McGonagall didn't say anything further. After all, if there were any complaints, they would ultimately reach Dumbledore.

But Tver still explained a bit to avoid anyone thinking he had some peculiar fetish.

"It's just a way to discipline the third-year students, let them experience the brutality of battle. As for the first and second-year students, please forgive me for being straightforward, but they are far from being able to fight. At most, they're just playing games."

Professor McGonagall smiled awkwardly.

It was only the beginning of the school year; it was natural for first-year students to have weaker abilities, but if they were too strong, it would raise suspicions.

However, second-year students, after a year of learning, to be honest, Professor McGonagall felt their level wasn't much better than the incoming first-year students.

Thinking of this, she discreetly glanced at Quirrell, who was shrinking back, avoiding eye contact.

It was because of professors like him occupying the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts that Hogwarts students couldn't learn useful knowledge.

Fortunately, this year, Albus had a bit of insight and hired an assistant and such an excellent assistant at that. But considering those rumors, she couldn't help but worry.

Would Tver only last a year before being forced to leave the school?

Tver paused with his hand holding the glass. What did he just say? Why did Professor McGonagall look at him with such concern?

Professor Flitwick, on the other hand, didn't think too much about it.

"Tver, you're teaching combat, but the students know very little magic. How will you teach them?"

Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms were actually closely related.

Charms taught students new spells, while Defense Against the Dark Arts taught them how to use these spells to deal with potential dangers in life.

So, the older the students, the easier it was for them to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts, as they knew more spells.

But Tver was only teaching students below the third year, which made Professor Flitwick worry that the class content might not be as rich as the higher years', leading to dissatisfaction among the students with Tver.

Tver was prepared for this.

"I mainly teach them some spellcasting techniques in class, as well as different applications of the spells they've learned. If you don't mind, I'll also teach them practical spells for combat."

"Of course not," Professor Flitwick chuckled. "I don't know if you're good at Transfiguration, but it's also very useful in battles."

Professor McGonagall's attitude towards Tver became even friendlier as if she was afraid they wouldn't be able to meet again after this year. So, she turned to join the conversation upon hearing this.

"I wouldn't mind if Tver could teach the students how to apply Transfiguration. To be honest, many students don't realize the significant role of Transfiguration in combat and consider it quite redundant."

Tver was also helpless about this viewpoint. Besides Transfiguration masters, few realized the tremendous role of Transfiguration in battles.

Coincidentally, his teacher was a master of Transfiguration. Although the teacher often criticized him for focusing more on Dark Arts than Transfiguration, his proficiency in Transfiguration was not something ordinary wizards could match.

He just didn't know how strong Dumbledore, who was hailed as the world's best with just Transfiguration, was in this aspect.

Sensing Tver's gaze, Dumbledore turned to him and raised his glass. His deep blue eyes were as clear as a baby's, yet unfathomable to even Tver, a Legilimens master.

"I'm also looking forward to Transfiguration being applied more, not just in combat. If you need any help, we can discuss it?"

"I dare not call it a discussion," Tver quickly raised his glass in return. "In front of you, I'm just a student."

So, after dinner, Tver followed Dumbledore to the headmaster's office.

It was the same room as last time, with the same layout, and the portraits still wore their slightly scrutinizing gazes.

"People tend to dislike change as they age," Dumbledore sat behind the long table, wearing an expectant smile. "Tea, or pumpkin juice?"

Tver calmly sat across from Dumbledore. "I'll have pumpkin juice again. I seem to have developed a liking for it."

As soon as he said this, bottles of pumpkin juice on the table sprouted four legs and happily trotted over to him. The cups transformed from bottle caps into delicate and elegant vessels, adorned with swirling patterns.

Seeing this, Tver couldn't help but smile with anticipation. It seemed like Dumbledore was asserting his authority from the start.

"I prefer a larger cup if you don't mind," he said without waiting for Dumbledore's response. The cup elongated continuously until it turned into a wine glass, and the bottle's mouth automatically bent down, pouring out the fragrant pumpkin juice.

Dumbledore's proud smile faltered momentarily. His wandless and silent magic, combined with advanced Transfiguration, was meant to impress this young professor, preventing Tver from becoming arrogant due to his extraordinary abilities.

However, Tver countered with his own wandless magic, building upon Dumbledore's Transfiguration. It was like a nesting doll—Dumbledore was the one being nested this time.

But before too much pumpkin juice could be poured, Tver's transformed wine glass shrank into an even smaller cup, threatening to overflow if any more juice was poured in.

"I just remembered we've just finished dinner; it's probably not a good idea to drink too much pumpkin juice," Tver said with a tinge of competitiveness.

My damn competitiveness, Dumbledore thought, looking at Tver with a smug expression.

"It's alright, I'm still young, I can handle it," Tver replied with an even more triumphant smile.

The cup reverted to its original size.