At Tver's words, Fleur finally relaxed.
All of that earlier wasn't just her talking. She'd been probing, trying to see what he really thought of mixed-blood witches and wizards.
So far, he matched everything she'd heard and observed these past few days: gentle-mannered, well-read, and clear-eyed about the world. Most importantly, he didn't seem to carry the casual prejudices so many wizards did.
"Thank you for understanding," Fleur said. "It's rare to meet someone as young as you who still has views worth making me stop and think."
In the candlelight, her expression looked both relieved and quietly admiring, which left Tver more than a little confused.
Sure, he'd picked up plenty of persuasion skills from his teacher, but he hadn't exactly delivered a grand speech just now.
As if she noticed his bafflement, Fleur carefully pulled a crumpled newspaper from the pocket of her robes. The way she handled it made it obvious she'd read it countless times, yet she still treated it like a treasure.
"A few days ago, I read this article," she said. "It talked about equality between wizards and sentient magical creatures."
Now Tver understood why she'd stopped him.
"It's the first time in years I've seen something on this subject that was so concise and so well-argued. I… I truly loved the ideas in it."
She hugged the paper to her chest, excitement rising in her voice, and only crumpled it further.
"So I wrote to the paper several times. In the end, I found out the author was a Hogwarts student."
"But when I went to Miss Hermione Granger and asked her the question I've been thinking about for years, her answer was so childish. It didn't match the maturity of the article at all!"
A trace of disappointment crossed her face, as though she'd been thrown back into that moment.
At first, she'd even suspected Hermione was a fraud, the sort who used fashionable topics to grab attention. That kind of thing wasn't rare in the wizarding world. There were plenty of charlatans who stole other people's stories and wrapped themselves up as some great, powerful wizard.
But the disappointment vanished almost at once. Her eyes brightened, and her excitement was impossible to hide.
"Then she gave me a name. Yours, Tver Fawley."
"She said you guided her while she wrote it, and that the ideas in the article were what you taught her."
Fleur looked at him hopefully. "I'm not mistaken, am I?"
Watching her, Tver saw it clearly: the hunger for recognition, not just in sentient magical creatures, but in mixed-blood witches and wizards too.
It was only natural. Any thinking being wanted to be acknowledged.
And if he was honest, even he hadn't really considered what those groups wanted until Hermione first brought up her ideas about house-elves. Their voices were too quiet, and people, himself included, hadn't made a point of listening.
So faced with Fleur's admiration, he felt guilty for about two seconds.
Only two.
"Hermione did write it under my guidance," Tver said. "But to be frank, before that, I was just like other wizards. I overlooked you without even realizing I was doing it."
He chose honesty.
Pretending he'd always cared would only make him look false, and to those who had lived with discrimination, that kind of falsehood was dangerously close to betrayal.
Fleur didn't seem bothered at all. She broke into a wide smile, her silver hair catching the candlelight.
"Doesn't that just prove how remarkable you are? You reached those ideas so quickly, and you even encouraged a student to publish them. That alone is already far better than most wizards."
As she praised him, Tver caught the faintest sense of something else underneath it.
Like she was setting the stage.
"Well, since you think that way," Fleur said carefully, "I'd like to ask you something…"
There it is.
The corners of Tver's mouth lifted slightly. Fleur didn't seem malicious, just cautious, using a small bit of tact to make sure he'd answer seriously.
"Go ahead," he said. "Answering a student's questions is part of my job."
Realizing her little maneuver hadn't gone unnoticed, Fleur smiled shyly, a touch embarrassed, but she still asked directly.
"You said sentient magical creatures and wizards should be equal. But how can those creatures actually fight for equal rights?"
"And when the wizarding world is full of prejudice against magical creatures, how do they, and how do we mixed-blood witches and wizards, break through that discrimination?"
"Obviously, you can't accomplish it with one or two articles," Tver said without hesitation. "And it can't be done by one or two wizards, either."
Fleur wasn't satisfied with how short his answer sounded.
Hermione had answered a similar question before, and all she'd offered was the naïve idea of everyone speaking up together and petitioning the Ministry of Magic for rights.
If the Ministry truly wanted to raise the status of magical creatures, they would have been living openly in the wizarding world a long time ago.
"So let me put it another way," Tver continued. "Rights and obligations have always been linked. If you only think about your rights and never about the responsibilities you're expected to carry, you'll only invite conflict."
"Obligations?" Fleur echoed.
"I know people like beautiful ideas, equality, friendship, all of that," Tver said. "But in reality, bare self-interest is the foundation of wizarding society."
"If sentient magical creatures can't bring benefits to human wizards, then to them, you'll always be a burden. A problem."
It was so blunt that Fleur didn't even have time to shift her thinking.
"But… but we're working hard too!"
"Exactly," Tver said, approving of how quickly she caught on. "So you need to make wizards see what you contribute."
Fleur opened her mouth, but Tver cut in first.
"Not just contribute. See."
"Working quietly doesn't help. Human wizards will take it for granted, because in their minds, they've already paid for it."
"So you have to make them see it, make them realize it. That you're an indispensable part of wizarding society, and even of human society as a whole."
"But how?" Fleur frowned. "By writing articles in the papers?"
"Don't underestimate public opinion," Tver said. "If you control the narrative, you can shape how a great many people in the wizarding world think."
Sensing the conversation nearing its end, Tver crossed the room and opened the classroom door.
Night had fully fallen. The moment the door swung open, the castle's noise poured in, the hum of students talking and moving through the corridors.
"Of course, that's only one method," he added. "As for the others, that's something you'll have to think through yourselves."
Fleur seemed to agree, but with her limited experience, she still looked unsure what she was supposed to do next.
As she stepped out of the classroom, a little lost, Tver leaned closer and offered a quiet reminder.
"For instance, you can get involved in wizarding affairs actively, instead of being treated as nothing more than entertainment."
Or, for instance, take part in reforming the wizarding world.