The nickname "Panda Warlord" had actually been coined by Viktor himself.
It started when Cynthia happened to notice that Tver's Patronus was a panda. After listening to his explanation, she learned about this creature that was both adorable and terrifyingly fierce.
No one expected that Viktor, who followed them around all day like an eager fanboy, would overhear part of their conversation. Having only caught fragments, all he understood was that a panda was some kind of ferocious bear.
At Durmstrang, bears ranked among the most fearsome muggle animals in their understanding.
So he combined "panda" with "warlord," convinced it perfectly matched Tver's brutal performance during the school dueling tournament.
And just like that, the nickname spread.
By the time the somewhat withdrawn Tver found out, the entire school had already tacitly accepted it as his unofficial title…
Sensing Tver's displeasure, Viktor immediately scratched his head in embarrassment.
After so long apart, he had nearly forgotten that Tver disliked the nickname—or rather, disliked hearing it spoken out loud in public.
"Panda?" Fudge squinted in confusion, while the others also glanced back and forth between Viktor and Tver with curiosity.
They could understand "warlord," but "panda" was something they had barely ever heard of.
At the time, pandas were rare even in Britain, let alone across Europe. In the magical world, which knew little about muggles to begin with, they were practically unheard of.
"It's a kind of bear," Viktor said vaguely. Not daring to elaborate, he hurried over to Tver, whose gaze carried a palpable killing intent.
"I didn't think you'd come to watch my match! I thought you didn't like Quidditch!" he said excitedly, not a trace of disappointment left from the loss.
"I still don't really like Quidditch."
Tver smiled gently and patted his solid shoulder, his friendliness making Viktor grin instinctively.
"But seeing you covered in blood and losing the match? That part was quite enjoyable."
"…"
Viktor's face immediately collapsed, and he quickly turned pleading eyes toward Cynthia.
Laughing softly, Cynthia stepped past Tver and used her wand to clean the blood from Viktor's face, casually mending his nose as well.
"We haven't heard anyone mention that nickname since we graduated. I didn't expect you to be the first one to bring it up."
"Professor, you know him?" Harry cautiously edged closer, with Ron behind him, his face full of awe and curiosity.
"Viktor is a student at Durmstrang," Tver said calmly. "And yes, he's still in his sixth year."
"Sixth year?"
"Durmstrang?"
Harry and Ron stared at the well-behaved Viktor in disbelief and immediately began whispering to each other.
"He looks older than the professor," Ron muttered, sizing up Viktor's now-restored face.
"But he's a Durmstrang student," Harry said worriedly. He had just started admiring Viktor.
"Don't you get it?" Hermione snapped irritably. "The professor was a Durmstrang student too. Those prejudices and rumors must come from people who don't understand and just spread things one-sidedly."
The Bulgarian team members, however, reacted rather strangely.
Some of them were Durmstrang students as well. Even if they hadn't attended school at the same time as Tver, they had all heard the legends of Durmstrang's greatest graduate in history.
And with their absolute core player—Viktor himself—being so well-behaved in front of Tver, they genuinely had no idea how they were supposed to act around him.
The expressions of everyone present grew awkward, especially Lucius, who for the first time truly regretted showing up in this box.
Hearing a nickname your superior hated—what were you supposed to do? Panic.
He could only grip Draco's shoulders tightly to stop him from going over to join the excitement.
Even after the victorious Irish team entered the box, everyone remained silent, their attention inexplicably fixed on this single corner.
"All right, let's get on with the trophy presentation!" Ludo Bagman said hastily, sensing how strange the atmosphere had become.
The people present seemed to snap out of it at once, clapping rather perfunctorily as they turned to watch Fudge struggle to hoist the trophy.
On Tver's side, meanwhile, he took the opportunity to introduce Harry and the others to Viktor and the members of the Bulgarian team.
Ron, being a devoted fan of the Bulgarian team, went without saying. Harry was just as excited, eagerly collecting autographs from several of the players.
Later, thanks to the "generous donation" of a certain pureblood family, they were even "given" a camera. They took dozens of photos and only stopped once the film was completely used up.
To an outsider, it would have been obvious that the box had split neatly into two halves.
One side was Fudge, leading a group of Ministry officials as they presented the trophy to the Irish team.
The other side was Tver and his group, joined by Draco, who had finally managed to slip over, chatting with the Bulgarian players about the match.
As for the Weasley twins, they had cornered the now-unaccompanied Ludo Bagman and were whispering away about who knew what.
"By the way, are you staying here tonight?" Tver suddenly asked.
Viktor froze for a moment.
"We're planning to head back to Bulgaria once the match is over. If we win, we'll celebrate on the way back. If we lose… we'll celebrate anyway!"
"But I could stay," he added quickly. "We haven't seen each other in so long, and I really want to talk properly!"
"No need. You should leave as soon as possible," Tver said flatly, without the slightest hesitation.
"…" Viktor had no idea what to say. "All right, then… I'll head off later."
"That's good," Tver said, giving his arm a reassuring pat. "I'm doing this for your own good. And besides, we'll have another chance to meet this year."
"You mean… that thing?" Viktor's gloom vanished instantly as he looked up in surprise.
"Oh? Headmaster Karkaroff told you already?"
"Yeah. Even before summer break started, he quietly told me to prepare."
Tsk. So leaking information really was part of the Goblet of Fire tradition.
With that thought, Tver said goodbye to Viktor and, along with Harry and the others—who were still a little reluctant to part—followed the crowd back toward the tent area.
The spectators were still caught up in the celebratory mood, especially the Irish fans, who were singing at the top of their lungs, waving green flags, wearing green cloaks, and donning green hats…
Thankfully, Hogwarts Slytherin students would never do something like that. Otherwise, Tver might have had to explain the special meaning of green hats in certain cultures.
Back at the tent, the excitement still hadn't fully died down. Everyone gathered together, animatedly discussing every detail of the match.
Part of that was simply because the game had ended early. Even after chatting for quite a while, it still wasn't very late.
In the end, though, Ginny grew so sleepy that she nodded off by the coffee table and bumped her head. At that point, Mr. Weasley and Sirius promptly sent everyone off to bed. Even Tver was no exception, finding a room to take a short nap.
Cynthia, however, stepped out at that moment, saying she needed to go on duty. That prompted Mr. Weasley to sigh and remark,
"Good thing I'm not on duty tonight. Who knows how long they'll keep this up?"