At eleven o'clock at night, it was already quite late for wizards who didn't lead much of a nightlife.
But for Tver, this was just the start of his second reading session.
He was used to staying up late—and just as used to pulling out one of his old favorites: The Origin of Curse Magic.
Coming home from Durmstrang, the only real change seemed to be the location of his reading chair.
Realizing how strange that was, he decided to switch things up.
The Fawley family's collection was still impressive. Maybe it didn't compare to the library at Hogwarts, where he'd soon be headed, but when it came to books on ancient magic, it had the upper hand.
That was largely because, in recent generations, the family had become rather laid-back and stopped actively pursuing magical research.
Fortunately, there had been no spendthrifts among them, and the family business continued to thrive—there were no signs of decline.
Tver left his bedroom. The house was quiet, with only a few candle flames still flickering in the hallway.
The study wasn't far—or rather, he'd specifically chosen his room to be close to it.
After all, he was the only one in the Fawley family who enjoyed reading.
Creak.
The study door rarely opened. Over the past two years, only Jeff had occasionally entered to clean.
The room was larger than Tver's bedroom, packed with even more books. Two bookshelves—one large, one small—stood against the walls, stuffed with all kinds of volumes.
The room carried the scent of old books, like freshly cut herbs, as if quietly awaiting Tver's return.
The books here fell into two categories: those written in English or Latin, shelved on the left, and those recorded in ancient runes, placed on the right.
Tver had finished the former category two years ago, so today's target was the books written in ancient runes.
Durmstrang offered courses in ancient runes—many dark magic records were written in them.
You could even say that ancient magic was more powerful than modern magic, with a less rigid casting style, which is why it was often seen as dark magic.
There were fewer books on this side, and they were clearly more worn. Some had even lost their covers, leaving only bare titles exposed—
The Four Elements of Magic.
A strange title.
The idea of "elements" didn't really apply in the magical world. Tver could cast Aguamenti or the Fire-Making Charm, and the effectiveness of each spell depended on his understanding of the magic itself.
In other words, while elemental concepts existed, they didn't influence spellcasting.
The notion of the "four elements" was even stranger.
To Muggles, it was how ancient Greek scholars interpreted the world—believing it was made up of air, water, earth, and fire.
But to wizards, that was seen as a naïve attempt by early sorcerers to grasp the origins of magic. It was even a mandatory topic in Durmstrang's History of Magic class—Tver had studied it in his first year.
So seeing a book like this here definitely piqued his curiosity.
You've got my attention.
The book wasn't thick—barely a dozen pages.
He pulled it off the shelf, lit more candles in the study, and sat down on the floor.
If it turned out to be nonsense, he'd just put it back and pick another.
Opening the first page, he found, as expected, that it was written entirely in ancient runes. A faint magical aura still lingered on the parchment.
Not because the runes had stored magic for all this time—that was impossible. After so long, the magic would've long dissipated.
Instead, some ancient runes had the property of drawing in magic. As Tver read, they would absorb a bit of his magic to preserve the text from damage.
That's why books written in Ancient Runes could survive for so long.
Of course, even that kind of protection had its limits.
Tver spaced out for a moment, mentally flipping through everything he knew about Ancient Runes.
Since it didn't do much to improve his magical strength, he'd never focused on it—it was just a tool for reading, nothing more.
Luckily, the content wasn't too complicated.
"Any spellcasting can be broken down into four fundamental principles: magical power, transformation, duration, and release speed."
"Magical power, called Earth—there is nothing more solid and weighty than the vast land. The ground beneath your feet is no longer a shackle but your loyal servant. Every spell you cast carries the heaviness of the earth."
"Transformation, called Water—water has no fixed shape; its form is born from the mind. Magic, in its endless variation, flows like water that bends to your will. Fire shaped like water, earth that dances like wind—everything is yours to command."
"Duration, called Fire—the soul's flame, eternal and unceasing. Those who reach this level are no longer confined by their physical bodies. Their souls are nearly immortal."
"Release speed, called Wind—all things move with the wind, flowing where the heart leads. Those who master this can make their thoughts a hundred times more agile, returning to the very essence of magic."
It was the first time Tver had encountered a theory like this.
These four concepts were foundational in the magical world—understanding a spell deeply would naturally enhance its power, flexibility, longevity, and casting speed.
No one had ever tried separating them, focusing on just one aspect. That would've been seen as a complete waste of time.
But this book suggested that mastering even one principle could elevate all spells in that domain—without needing to understand each spell individually.
Like understanding 1 + 1 = 2, and from that, intuitively grasping that A + A = 2A.
But the problem was... magic's "1" and "A" weren't the same thing!
Driven by curiosity, Tver kept reading.
But the book didn't offer any explanation or method for overcoming the differences between spells.
It mostly just elaborated on the power of each aspect, and briefly mentioned that if one mastered all four to their limit, they could transcend space and time—becoming a god free from the boundaries of the world.
Tver lost interest immediately. He mentally filed it as yet another ancient wizard's half-baked theory—a shallow attempt to make sense of magical power.
Maybe his History of Magic professor could turn it into a test question, but for Tver, it wasn't even worth reading as light entertainment.
Yawning, he regretted wasting his time on it. He should've just gone to bed.
He stood, stretched his sore legs, and noticed the candle on the desk had gone out at some point. Sunlight was now spilling through the window, casting a golden glow across the room.
And yet, Tver felt a chill.
He remembered clearly—he had only seriously read one page. The rest he had barely skimmed.
There was no way he had spent the whole night reading!
"Young Master?"
Jeff opened the study door, smiling brightly when he saw Tver.
"I didn't see you in your room, so I came to check. Sure enough, here you are. But you really should take better care of your health—"
"Jeff, what time is it now?" Tver quickly searched his memory—a simple task for a Legilimens like him.
Jeff blinked. "It's seven in the morning. I wake up at this time every day."
Eight hours.
He had spent eight full hours on a single page.
The last time he experienced anything like this was when his teacher had taken control of his mind.
Back then, his thoughts had slowed to a crawl—but the knowledge had etched itself into his memory, as if he'd been born knowing the spell.
His mind had been hijacked again!
Tver picked the book back up.
The title was still the same—but now, beneath it, a new line had appeared:
"This is precious knowledge, worthy of a lifetime of study. I leave this note in the hope that someone else who understands may appear. — Rowena Ravenclaw."