The weight of Tver's words left Percy's mind reeling. It wasn't until the dummies had finished grading their stack of papers that he finally came back to his senses.
"But even if we recognize the problem," he said slowly, "what can we actually do? We can't just… take the wealth from the rich, can we?"
He looked at Tver seriously, not even realizing that—subconsciously—he'd already begun grouping himself together with the man across from him.
"Of course not," Tver said with a light laugh. "Even if you wanted to, I wouldn't allow it. After all, I'm one of the rich."
"The problem with the wizarding world isn't the wealth that already exists—it's that there are too few ways to create wealth. Or rather…" His smile thinned. "Those ways are far too closed off."
"Closed off?" Percy repeated, puzzled. Having lived his whole life in the wizarding world, the idea seemed foreign to him.
"Yes, closed," Tver said, thinking for a moment. "Tell me—do you know when the last completely new spell or piece of magic was created?"
"I… I don't know."
Tver chuckled softly. "Exactly. Neither do I. It could have been a second ago—or ten years ago."
"Then let me ask you another question: what's different between life ten years ago and life now?"
Percy frowned, trying to recall.
Ten years ago, he'd been only six—not too young to remember, but not old enough for the details to be clear.
After a long pause, he said uncertainly, "Well… broomsticks have new models now?"
Tver gave a small, noncommittal nod. "Anything else?"
Percy fell into thought again, but nothing else came to mind.
"I don't know," he admitted at last. "Everything feels the same as it's always been. Maybe the books Mum reads have changed?"
"Or maybe your father's collection has?" Tver prompted.
"That's right!" Percy said, brightening. "Dad's wireless collection! The new ones are smaller—more refined!"
Tver watched the boy's excitement with quiet satisfaction, then his tone turned serious.
"See, Percy? We wizards never really change. Every bit of progress we enjoy comes from the Muggles."
"They spent just a few years making the radio smaller and more convenient. And us? What have we done in that same time? Created a new broomstick?"
"But how many people can afford that broomstick? Radios are different—your father can be a customer too."
"That's why our world is stagnant. The wizarding world is a stage far too small to hold truly great actors."
Tver rose, stepped toward Percy, and pulled him up by the arms, gripping him firmly.
"You're a gifted wizard, Percy. Wizards like you deserve to be seen by more people—not buried in some forgotten corner of the magical world."
"You deserve a better life. Don't waste your talent."
Percy felt the words pierce straight through him.
Every grievance, every frustration—Tver had laid them bare.
All his resentment stemmed from one truth: his talent had no stage. His family, for all their efforts, had no stage.
If—just if—he could command tens of thousands, wouldn't that power rival even the Minister for Magic?
And yet, in a Muggle city, tens of thousands of people would barely fill a small town.
The thought sent a thrill through him, but it didn't last long before doubt crept in.
"But, Professor," Percy began hesitantly, "we can't perform magic in front of Muggles, can we? Muggles aren't supposed to see—aren't supposed to know…"
"Not entirely true," Tver interrupted with a faint, knowing smile. "To be precise, it's only for the last three hundred years that we haven't been allowed to."
"With your marks in History of Magic, you should remember what happened exactly three centuries ago."
Percy's eyes widened.
"You mean—the enactment of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy?!"
"Exactly. As long as that law exists, we'll keep living like rats in the shadows. But if it were gone…"
The implication hit Percy instantly. He tore his arms free, face burning with anger.
"I won't allow you to think like that!" he snapped, unable to meet Tver's eyes and turning his gaze aside. "We can't use magic to enslave anyone—not even Muggles!"
Growing up in the wizarding world—and with parents in the Order of the Phoenix—Percy knew all too well Voldemort's philosophy of subjugating Muggles and half-bloods. He despised it.
And now, to hear something so similar from the professor he'd respected—it filled him with disbelief and disappointment.
But Tver only looked pleased by his outrage.
If Percy had agreed too quickly, then he would have been disappointed.
"How could you think that? I've never seen Muggles as slaves."
"On the contrary, I see them as friends—friends we can share joy with."
"Let us show them the wonders of magic, and let them show us the power of technology. What could possibly be wrong with that?"
He spread his hands with an easy, almost playful smile, speaking as if inviting Percy on a friendly outing rather than discussing a reform that could shake the entire wizarding world.
Percy turned toward him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, too stunned to speak.
"You mean... cooperation?" he managed at last. "But Muggle electronics—magic interferes with them!"
Good. His defenses are nearly gone, Tver thought with quiet satisfaction.
"Do you know why that happens?"
Percy shook his head, his expression vacant.
"I don't know either," Tver said softly. "But if we never study it, we'll never uncover the secret between magic and technology—not in our lifetime."
"But I'm just... an ordinary student," Percy said weakly. "Maybe my grades are good, but I could never take on something that big."
Just one last push, Tver thought.
"We won't be short of researchers," he murmured, leaning closer to Percy's ear. "What we lack are reformers."
"If we break down the walls between wizards and Muggles—if we become true partners—then countless people will join us to explore the secrets of magic and technology."
"And that hammer to break the wall... it's in our hands."
Tver straightened and extended his hand toward him, voice low and compelling.
"Will you stand with me, Percy? Will you be the one who swings the hammer?"
Percy's heart pounded violently. The world Tver painted shimmered before his eyes—bright, vast, and full of promise. He longed to see it realized.
His hand trembled with excitement, but he still reached forward and clasped Tver's firmly.
...
Even after leaving the office, Percy still felt dizzy.
Shaking the professor's hand had left him so breathless that he'd nearly forgotten to breathe. They'd gone on to discuss countless issues and plans about the wizarding world—so many that he'd had to strain every bit of focus just to keep up.
Only after standing in the corridor for a while, letting the cold air cool his head, did he finally regain his clarity.
He then recalled Professor Fawley's final words to him—
"This is a long-term goal. For now, the Ministry of Magic will be our main objective. I hope you'll enter it after graduation. Until then, you must keep this completely secret."
Percy stood still for a few seconds, then turned decisively and walked back to the common room.
Unbeknownst to him, Tver was standing just beyond a nearly transparent door, eyes fixed on him.
"What a naive child," the ring said with a sigh. "Aren't you afraid he'll go running to Dumbledore?"
"I can see straight into his heart," Tver replied quietly from the shadows. "It's pure—so pure that with the lightest touch, I can hold it in my hand."