By the time the three of them had finished eating and drinking their fill, half an hour had passed.
After tidying up the place, Tver glanced over at the trio, who were now sitting there burping contentedly.
"Seems you've eaten your fill. Since that's the case, tonight's punishment begins. What you'll do is grab brooms, mops, rags, and buckets—"
Tver gestured toward the corner where he had specially borrowed a full set of cleaning tools from Filch. Every kind of cleaning implement imaginable was there.
"—and clean the entire first floor."
The trio immediately turned their heads toward the corner, eyes widening in disbelief.
"The entire?!"
"First floor?!"
"With those Muggle things?!"
Their voices cracked with shock, becoming shrill and piercing.
Tver frowned at the noise.
"This is just tonight's task. The castle has eight floors. Detention won't truly end until you've cleaned the entire thing."
"Oh, and one more thing," Tver suddenly added, "make sure to sweep before you mop. Then use the rags to wipe down the railings, windows, and so on. Do it properly—I'll be inspecting your work afterward."
Harry and the others stood frozen, staring at him in disbelief, as if seeing this Professor Fawley for the very first time.
"Hey, snap out of it. Get moving and start cleaning. If you miss curfew, that's on you."
At Tver's reminder, none of them dared argue. They scrambled toward the corner, fighting to grab what looked like the easiest tools.
"Just a heads-up," Tver said casually, "if even one area fails inspection, no matter who messed up, all three of you will face detention again."
The three exchanged pained looks, then immediately became polite and cooperative.
"Mr. Malfoy, this rag seems perfect for you."
"Thanks, Mr. Weasley, but the mop looks like a fine choice too."
"Um, could I take the broom?" Harry asked tentatively.
"No!" *2
After a round of noisy bickering, the three finally left the office, hauling their cleaning supplies down to the first floor.
But when it came time to fill the water buckets, another argument broke out.
Watching Ron and Malfoy glare stubbornly at each other, Harry had no choice but to intervene.
"Listen, we need to put our differences aside for now. Whatever it is, we can deal with it after detention, alright?"
"I'll agree if he does," Ron muttered, turning away.
"He has to agree first!" Malfoy huffed, lifting his chin and turning his head in the opposite direction.
Ron scowled, glaring at the back of Malfoy's head. "You agree first!"
"You first!"
"I won't—"
"Perhaps you should be discussing why you're not in your common rooms at night," a cold voice interrupted, "instead of bickering and disturbing the castle."
At some point, Snape had appeared silently behind Harry, his icy eyes sweeping over them one by one.
His gaze stopped on the broom in Harry's hand. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to assess it, then realized it was just an ordinary broom—one that couldn't fly.
"You have such hobbies?" he asked with a frown.
"No," Harry said quickly, hiding the broom behind his back. "Professor Fawley's detention is for cleaning the first floor. That's why we're carrying these."
Ron and Malfoy, both uneasy under his gaze, nodded rapidly in agreement.
Snape narrowed his eyes, scanning their faces coldly.
Just as Harry and the others felt the tension suffocating them, he finally spoke. "But Fawley didn't instruct you to make such a racket, did he?"
"Uh, Head of House, we—"
Malfoy tried to step forward, but Snape's icy glare silenced him instantly.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, and ten from Slytherin."
"But there are two of them!" Malfoy protested angrily.
Snape turned away without hesitation, his parting words sharp and final. "That means you're worth two of them."
Malfoy: "..."
Under normal circumstances, he would've been thrilled—but right now...
"Pfft."
Harry and Ron couldn't help bursting into laughter, slumping against each other as they tried in vain to stifle their grins.
"You two idiots dare laugh at me!"
...
On the other side, Tver stood in his office, holding the Map of Precise Locations and studying the figures moving across it.
With the help of the Weasley twins, the map had been greatly improved in just a year. Thanks to their firsthand exploration, many of the old map's inaccuracies had been corrected and supplemented.
Knock, knock.
"Come in."
Tver set the parchment down and looked up in surprise at the visitor standing in the doorway.
"Do I need to come out to greet you myself, Professor Snape?"
Snape entered without expression, his calm eyes drifting across the room as he silently took in its layout.
Books. Nothing but books.
He immediately noticed several volumes on dark magic—or those making veiled references to it. He knew them all too well, having once spent countless hours reading such works.
And yet, there was something unfamiliar about it now. It had been a long time since he'd touched books like these.
"Come to think of it, this is your first time here, isn't it? What do you think? A bit brighter and healthier than your office, wouldn't you say?"
Tver gestured lightly toward the bookshelf behind him, his tone a touch teasing.
No matter how sinister the contents, they were still more pleasant to look at than the animal specimens in Snape's classroom.
"Quite wholesome," Snape said with a rare, cold smile. "If only their owner were as upright."
"Hmm?"
Tver raised an eyebrow, his gaze landing on Snape.
His expression was strange—behind the mask of indifference, there was mockery, but beneath that, a faint trace of unease.
"By any measure, I'd say I'm more transparent than you, Professor Snape."
"At least in Dumbledore's eyes, I don't keep nearly as many secrets."
Snape walked over to the bookshelf behind Tver, his fingers gliding across the spines from left to right.
"I've read all of these before. Just from that alone, I can tell your mastery of dark magic far exceeds mine."
"As the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, I need to understand dark magic before I can teach students how to defend against it," Tver said casually, spreading his hands.
Snape's cold smile grew faintly triumphant as his fingers came to rest on a single book.
More precisely, on one specific volume.
He slowly drew it out.
"But I wasn't aware the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor also reads Muggle books."
Tver's eyebrows lifted slightly as he glanced at the title.
It was A Brief History of Humankind—a book he read to understand history and the pace of human development. He owned quite a few like it and occasionally leafed through them in his spare time.
After all, he was a transmigrator not a historian. If he wanted to strengthen his ideals with solid reasoning, reading such works was invaluable.
When Tver didn't respond, Snape's smirk faded.
"Perhaps the heir of a pure-blood family simply enjoys Muggles."
"Or maybe," his voice dropped slightly, "you, a genius in dark magic, are studying Muggles to achieve some secret goal of your own?"