Cynthia was startled by Tver's idea.
After all the groundwork they had laid, even though Voldemort was not their main enemy, they had already shattered the foundation of Voldemort's forces and restricted most of his movements.
And now he was telling her they should let Voldemort succeed once?
If anyone else had said something like that, even Dumbledore, she would have suspected their brain had stopped working.
But because it was Tver...
"Er..."
Cynthia frowned in conflict.
"If we need to switch to supporting Voldemort, it's not impossible. I've collected all the information on the Order of the Phoenix members, so we can take targeted measures."
"But what about Dumbledore? And Marvolio probably won't be very willing to cooperate with Voldemort..."
"No, there's no need." Tver shook his head. "Just pretend I never said that."
He seemed to understand why Dumbledore had dared to gamble with Harry's life.
The more Voldemort resisted the prophecy, the more he proved the prophecy's inescapable nature.
And the chances of Harry ultimately defeating Voldemort would continue to grow.
Still, Cynthia had actually prepared for resisting Dumbledore. That could only be called typical of her...
Tver's thoughts were somewhat chaotic.
In this regard, neither Munter nor his teacher had been able to offer any useful advice. As for the badge, after he replenished Godric's magic, all he could sense was that it had become a perfect and miraculous magical artifact.
But that also meant there seemed to be nothing left inside worth continuing to study.
So he had no choice but to act like a drowning man, trying every possible means to grasp at any chance of survival.
In a sense, the current Tver was even more lost than when he had first encountered the Curse.
Back then, he had been like a child still in school. Though it was tiring and difficult, there had always been someone to tell him what to study and how to walk the road ahead.
But now, he was like an adult who had just graduated. No one could tell him where the road ahead was, or how he should walk it.
It was as if only Death's whispers kept reminding him beside his ear that all of these were meaningless attempts.
"Although I don't know what happened to make you so worried..."
Even though Cynthia knew Tver did not like anyone speaking to him while he was thinking, she felt that she needed to say something now.
"But I think that if Harry and Dumbledore believe they can defeat Voldemort based on nothing but a prophecy, then Voldemort absolutely has a chance to turn that prophecy in a direction more favorable to himself."
"After all," she said, pointing at the prophecy orb, "even though I don't know what the prophecy actually says, prophecies are usually vague, aren't they?"
Tver looked at Cynthia in surprise. She seemed rather uneasy after saying it, while he himself actually froze in thought.
He had never heard the full contents of the prophecy from Dumbledore, but he also knew that the prophecy had never explicitly said the people involved were Voldemort and Harry Potter.
This world did not have only Voldemort as a Dark Lord. Tver could count as one too. And Harry and Neville had indeed both been children who met the conditions that year.
But what about the next year? And the year after that?
Perhaps Voldemort had once, or would in the future, mark some other child by accident.
Perhaps the Dark Lord who was defeated would be Tver...
No, no, no. In any case, that was exactly why prophecy had never been a solid, precise statement. As for how to interpret it, every person who heard it might have a different understanding.
Even if Death had obtained the prophecy, as long as Tver had not been named outright as someone who would definitely die by Death's hand, or, for that matter, if it said he would live over a hundred years before dying, then the prophecy actually did not amount to much.
After being anxious for such a long time, his thoughts finally cleared, and Tver immediately laughed with relief, leaving Cynthia staring at him in a daze.
"And if the prophecy Death foresaw was that I am destined to defeat him, and that's why he set his sights on me, then Death is the one who should be worried!"
"Death?!"
"No, it's nothing." Tver restrained the smile on his face a little, lest he seem too wildly arrogant.
"I should thank you for comforting me just now. Without what you said, I might still be trapped in that dejected mood."
Cynthia smiled faintly and helped Tver straighten his collar, which had become a little rumpled from his earlier movements.
"You are Tver Fawley, the man destined to lead us toward the light."
"You're right." Tver lifted his spirits. "Then let's think about how to deal with Voldemort!"
The sudden turn almost gave Cynthia whiplash. Fortunately, Tver also knew he could not rush that much. After making the joke, he completely lost interest in the Hall of Prophecy.
"Take me to the Hall of Death. I'm more interested in that."
Cynthia's face wrinkled slightly. She did not like that lifeless place at all. If Tver became as negative as he had just now, she would not have a second speech ready to comfort him.
"Don't worry. Only by understanding death can we overcome death!" Tver answered her concern firmly.
Only then did Cynthia feel reassured enough to lead Tver through the Hall of Time again and back into the circular hall.
"The Hall of Death is the most mysterious place in the Department of Mysteries. Unlike the Hall of Love, where research is forbidden, this place..."
She pushed open the long-silent door of the Hall of Death with some nervousness.
"No Unspeakable has ever produced any results here. Or rather, no one has ever lived long enough to produce results!"
This was also a dim room, only rectangular in shape. The center sank downward, forming a huge stone pit twenty feet deep.
The room resembled the arena Tver had set up at Hogwarts, surrounded by tiered stone benches.
Those stone benches continued downward, all the way to the main feature at the bottom.
A tall stone platform, on which stood an ancient, dilapidated stone arch. And hanging strangely from the arch was a tattered veil that moved without any wind.
It was as if something inside was calling to Tver.
There was no heavy aura of death, nor anything that looked especially frightening. But as he looked at that black veil, Tver felt an extreme sense of danger.
His intuition told him that if he approached that veil, Death would not mind pushing him to the other side.
Feeling that murderous intent seep into his skin and marrow, Tver stood where he was, yet a wild, triumphant smile appeared on his face.
"Got you now..."