Tver watched the growing panic among the students with clear amusement.
Some hurriedly drew their wands, staring nervously at the Cornish Pixies in the cage.
Others gripped their textbooks, ready to use them as weapons.
A few simply turned pleading eyes toward Tver.
"Professor, you're not really going to do that, are you?!"
They hadn't forgotten how much trouble the Cornish Pixies had just caused.
"Of course I am," Tver said, lifting his hand from the cage and picking up his wand. "But only after I've taught you how to deal with them properly."
Realizing it was only a false alarm, the students let out sighs of relief and focused on the lesson.
"The best spell for dealing with Cornish Pixies is the Freezing Charm," Tver explained. "First, it immobilizes them and stops their movement. Second, it covers a wide area."
"But," he continued, "there's a problem with that approach. Has anyone figured it out?"
This time, it wasn't Hermione who spoke.
"Area spells are more likely to hit your teammates. If the Cornish Pixies get too close, we might end up freezing ourselves," said a well-behaved girl named Alyssa Green.
"Correct. Five points to Ravenclaw."
Tver released a single Cornish Pixie.
The moment it burst out of the cage, the creature darted straight for him, its sharp little face twisted into a vindictive grin. It moved so fast that, to the students, it was only a blur.
Just like when it had attacked that peacock earlier, it was determined to take down this foolish wizard—
But before the thought could even form, the Cornish Pixie froze midair, completely immobilized.
Tver gave a bored shake of his head. Cornish Pixies had many traits worth studying, but their lack of intelligence made them far too dull for his interest.
"The Cornish Pixie's size is about the same as a Quidditch Snitch," he said. "The only difference is that Pixies are faster and far more agile."
"With your current skill level, you're more likely to hit your teammates than one of them. But as you can see, they're not very bright. You can use that to your advantage—think strategically, set traps, and guide their movements to capture them."
"At least it's easier than Professor Lockhart's method."
The students burst out laughing, openly mocking the memory of Lockhart's earlier retreat. Their pride grew even stronger once they successfully learned the Freezing Charm under Tver's guidance. For the first time, they'd get to face real opponents in class.
"I imagine you're all eager to begin," Tver said with a faint smile. "So, wands ready—"
"Prepare for battle!"
The cage flew open completely, and the Cornish Pixies shot out in a blue blur.
"Immobulus!"
A chorus of spells filled the air—some mispronounced, some too weak—but a few Pixies were successfully frozen midflight. The rest, however, swooped into the crowd, unleashing havoc.
And—
"I'm sorry, Ron!" Hermione cried, staring in horror at her immobilized classmate. "I didn't mean to—I didn't think you'd move in front of me!"
"What do we do? The professor didn't teach us the counter-spell!" She spun in a panic.
Unlike the Petrification Curse, Ron's eyes could still move—but only his eyes.
"Why are you glaring at me?" she asked helplessly.
To her confusion, two Cornish Pixies were tugging hard on Ron's ears—one on each side—trying to lift him off the ground.
"Enough!" Harry shouted, pulling Hermione beneath Ron. "We need to help him now!"
"Ron!" Hermione screamed, clutching his leg to keep him from being carried off.
Harry seized the moment and cast another Freezing Charm—which hit Ron squarely on the head again.
Fortunately, Neville and Alyssa each managed to freeze one of the Pixies holding him.
Realizing they could use the students as shields, the remaining Pixies dove into the crowd, hiding behind desks and tossing stolen books at anyone who tried to cast a spell.
Chaos erupted instantly. The Cornish Pixies, as if venting all their earlier frustration from being trapped, tore through the classroom with even more destructive energy than before.
More crucially, the number of frozen students now exceeded the total number of Cornish Pixies...
Ten minutes later, thanks to a random explosion caused by Seamus, they finally managed to stun two of them.
"Calm down! You call this dueling practice? You'd be better off playing hide-and-seek—at least then you wouldn't hit your teammates!" Tver shouted helplessly.
"Use non-elemental light orbs to scare them! Drive them into a corner and deal with them one at a time!"
Tver's words jolted Hermione back to her senses.
With clear instructions and Harry leading several capable students, they worked together and managed to capture the last three Cornish Pixies just before class ended.
When it was over, the dozen remaining students collapsed into their seats, drenched in sweat and grinning in exhaustion.
Tver restored the classroom to its original state and dispelled the spells from the students who'd been accidentally hit.
"See? This is what real combat looks like," Tver said, handing out chocolate to the class. "That's why casting accuracy is so important. One mistake, and your teammate could end up dead."
The word "dead" made everyone freeze; they forgot to even eat the chocolate in their hands.
"For homework, write an essay on how to force your opponent's movements to improve your casting accuracy and safety."
"Professor, I heard you and Professor Lockhart take turns teaching. So, who's teaching next week?" Harry asked before leaving.
Tver smiled. "Harry, this was actually Professor Lockhart's class. I was just... filling in."
"Woohoo!" The students cheered and bounded out of the classroom.
Tver glanced around the room once more, restoring the last few items and covering the Pixies' cage with a black cloth.
But as he stepped out, he ran into an unexpected person.
"Professor Lockhart? Weren't you dealing with an emergency?"
Lockhart looked embarrassed. He blinked rapidly and gave a stiff smile. "It's already been handled. I just came to thank you for covering my class. Should I make it up next week?"
"Colleagues should help each other," Tver replied with an easy smile. "I'll take care of next week's class myself. Though... I do have a small favor to ask, if you've got the time."
Lockhart's eyes lit up. "Of course!"
"Well," Tver said, taking out a notebook, "this has the key points I've compiled for all seven grades. I want to create some quizzes for them, but the questions aren't finished yet. Could you help me with that?"
"Absolutely!" Lockhart eagerly grabbed the notebook, flipping through it. The more he read, the more excited he became.
"One week! Give me one week and I'll have it all done!"
"I really appreciate it."
"You said it yourself—we're colleagues. Helping each other is only natural."
"I've always thought your books were fascinating, although—"
The two walked toward the Great Hall, exchanging compliments, while passing students looked on in confusion.
Why did Professor Fawley's smile seem so... sinister?