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Isn't It Normal for a Hogwarts Professor to Be the Dark Lord?

Traversing into the magical world of Harry Potter, Tver is cursed and forced to learn dark magic. Seven years later, he graduates as Durmstrang's top student. To further his studies in more profound dark magic, he sets his sights on Hogwarts.  Isn't it normal for a Hogwarts professor to be a Dark Lord?

luchangzai · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
66 Chs

Chapter 1: Distant Letters

"Fairness is but a notion for the weak; conquerors speak only of dominance, Tver!"

"But, Professor, isn't mercy from the strong also a form of equality?"

...

It was July in Durmstrang. The school wasn't particularly large, with its castle spanning only three floors and maintaining a gloomy interior even during the day.

In contrast, Durmstrang favored orange and green to adorn its towers and arches, a splendid and majestic style that held a unique allure. Much like its students, who studied dark magic and excelled in defense as well, embodying both the spear and the shield.

Tver Fawley stood at the highest level of the castle, leaning on the railing, overlooking the place he had called home for seven years. The small castle did not reflect the insignificance of the school; in fact, Durmstrang boasted expansive grounds and magnificent scenery.

Before the castle was a dueling arena used for practicing magic, resembling a traditional coliseum where duels among different grades occurred monthly. There were also school-wide duels at the end of the academic year to determine the ownership of the House Cup.

At this thought, Tver couldn't help but smile. "From today, you finally get to compete for first place."

Yes, since his arrival at Durmstrang, aside from his first three years when he was occasionally bested by older students, Tver had been unrivaled the last four years. Now, they finally had a chance to taste victory themselves.

"Tver, are you really leaving us? But the headmaster said, as long as you're willing, the school would hire you directly as a professor. You know, Durmstrang suits you best!" A boy with a buzz cut, wearing just a singlet, appeared breathlessly, water droplets cascading down his muscular body onto the floor.

Tver turned around, never ceasing to be impressed by the boy's robust physique, despite seeing him countless times. "You've been swimming again, Viktor? Be careful not to age before your time."

Viktor flicked the water from his head in a playful attempt to splash Tver. The opponent wasn't just handsome; even the faint dark circles under his eyes seemed permanently etched, having looked the same since the day they met.

Tver snapped his fingers, and the water droplets Viktor had flung were suspended mid-air, only to whirl back at him, pelting him noisily.

Viktor wasn't annoyed, blocking his face with his hand, the droplets ineffective against his sturdy build.

"Study hard, Viktor," Tver patted his shoulder, "I've decided to go to that school, but there's still a chance we'll see each other again."

"But I heard you turned it down seven years ago to come to Durmstrang?" Viktor looked anxious.

"I had my reasons for coming here, and now I have my reasons for leaving."

Bidding Viktor farewell, Tver walked slowly through the castle, reminiscing about his seven years of study—a ritual it seemed all graduates underwent.

To outsiders, Durmstrang might appear a perilous school. In truth, it is.

However, beneath this facade of danger lies a comprehensive array of protective measures. The most evident proof is the presence of one of the finest Dark Arts medical facilities capable of adeptly managing most injuries caused by dark magic.

For their first three years, every student primarily focuses on learning healing and defensive magic. Only in their fourth year are they introduced to dark magic, and even then, it is strictly regulated. If a student delves too deeply or harbors malevolent intentions, making the dark arts they study excessively perilous, even Durmstrang will not condone it—simply because some things cannot be undone.

Yet to those on the outside, the mere act of studying dark magic is already unforgivable, oblivious to the argument that "only through study can one learn to defend against it." Of course, the school's "distinguished alumni" contribute to this reputation.

Tver greeted the passing students amicably. In this school, the number of students who knew him was about the same as those who did not engage in studying dark magic. After interacting with a few friends, he slowly made his way back to the dormitory where he had lived for seven years.

The room was arranged just as it had been when he first arrived—clean and tidy, with suitcases neatly placed beside the bed. Only this time, they were packed for departure. It was the first day of their graduation and their last day at the school; his roommates had already gone their separate ways. Yet, he couldn't leave just yet.

Changing out of his blood-red robe, Tver dressed in more casual attire. Thanks to his tall stature, whatever he wore seemed perfectly fitting. Smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes, Tver sat quietly on the familiar bed, sitting upright as if preparing for a job interview—an attribute he had honed at Durmstrang.

In the silent dormitory, the only sound was his fingers tracing over a badge, the rustling noise betraying his inner turmoil. He was waiting for a letter, an important response.

As time ticked slowly by, finally, a "thud" from outside the window shattered the calm, jolting his thoughts. It was a robust owl, visibly exhausted from its long journey, yet it dutifully tapped on the glass with its hard beak.

Tver waved his wand, and the window swung open, allowing the owl to fly in. It perched steadily on a chair and extended a leg, to which a letter was attached.

A letter from Hogwarts.

Tver swiftly removed the letter from its envelope. The surface of the envelope bore his name and address:

Mr. Tver Fawley

Second floor, leftmost dormitory, Durmstrang Institute, Scandinavian Peninsula

He chuckled lightly. The letter was just like the one he had received seven years ago, aside from the different address. Its obsessive precision brought back a wave of nostalgia, reminiscent of the eager anticipation he felt upon receiving his Hogwarts acceptance letter.

On the back was the familiar crest of Hogwarts. Eagerly, he tore open the envelope and extracted the letter inside:

Dear Mr. Tver Fawley,

We are pleased to inform you that your application for the position of Assistant in the Defence Against the Dark Arts department has been accepted. Your interview is scheduled for July 31st at 10 AM. It will be conducted by Professor Quirrell and Professor Dumbledore. Please be prepared in advance.

We look forward to receiving your owl by July 10th with your response.

Additionally, you may choose to arrive at the school gates using Apparition or travel via Floo Powder; a guide will be available to assist you upon arrival.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress