Mid-summer break.
Early in the morning, Draco Malfoy sprang out of his plush bed, his usual holiday laziness nowhere to be seen. After a quick wash, he hurried downstairs to the living room.
"Dobby, have you prepared the ingredients for lunch?"
"Good morning, Master Malfoy." Dobby quickly hid his bandaged fingers. "Everything's already prepared. Once I finish cooking breakfast for the masters, I'll start on lunch."
Draco wanted to insist that lunch be started immediately, but his growling stomach wouldn't allow him to skip breakfast.
"Fine then—but remember, it needs to be a grand, delicious feast. Got it?"
At that moment, his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, entered the room, covering a yawn with her hand.
"Draco, didn't Fawley say he wouldn't arrive until around noon?"
Draco hesitated for a moment before coming up with an excuse.
"Well… we still have to be ready ahead of time! Father said this is an official meeting with another pure-blood heir—it has to be taken seriously!"
He nodded solemnly, as if to lend weight to his words.
"But the problem is," Narcissa pointed toward his lower half, "your fly isn't zipped."
Draco looked down, spun around to fix it, then turned back with his cheeks blazing red.
Narcissa took a seat at the dining table and patted the chair beside her.
"Don't be so nervous. Come, tell me—what kind of person is this Professor Fawley?"
"Now that I think about it," she added thoughtfully, "since that Minister's time, the Fawley family hasn't appeared much in public."
"The Minister of Magic?" Draco asked as he obediently sat down beside her, curiosity written all over his face. "The professor's family produced a Minister?"
"Yes," Narcissa said. "By lineage, that Minister was his grandfather. But because he passively resisted Grindelwald, he was replaced after only ten years in office. Since then, the Fawley family has rarely involved themselves in wizarding affairs. Even during the Dark Lord's rule, they never clearly sided with us."
Draco's eyes widened in surprise.
"So that means they were on the opposing side?"
Narcissa gave a noncommittal nod.
"Not necessarily. I think after that Minister was forced out, he forbade his descendants from meddling in such matters out of resentment."
"Or maybe," Draco suggested hopefully, "they stayed neutral because they resented the other wizards instead?"
"Whatever the reason," came a calm voice, "the Dark Lord is gone." Lucius entered the room, his tone firm as he reminded them both.
As their conversation carried on, the clock crept closer to noon. Spurred by Draco's constant urging, Dobby had already finished preparing the elaborate lunch, waiting only for Tver's arrival.
Just as Draco finished checking his outfit for the fourth time, Lucius spoke.
"Fawley's outside. Draco, go and bring him in."
The Malfoy Manor was vast, and Tver's Apparition had only brought him to the outer gate of the estate. The distance from there to the front doors was still quite long.
By the time Draco came jogging up, he was slightly out of breath.
"P-Professor," he said, wiping his forehead while still trying to maintain his composure, "allow me to escort you inside."
"Thank you," Tver replied with a pleasant smile.
To spare Draco from having to rush back, he deliberately slowed his pace as they walked toward the manor together.
"How's your summer homework coming along?"
"Uh—" The image of his unopened schoolbag instantly popped into Draco's mind. "...It's pretty tough. I've only finished about half of it."
Tver saw right through his excuse but didn't call him out on it. Instead, his lips curved slightly in amusement.
In truth, he was still unaware of a rather cruel reality—Professors never actually checked summer homework.
After briefly checking on his student's well-being, Tver caught sight of the Malfoy couple standing by the manor entrance.
Quickening his pace, he put on the warm enthusiasm of someone meeting Lucius for the first time and reached out to shake his hand.
"I really appreciate your hospitality."
This was the kind of refined courtesy Tver had been trained in as a child. His parents, however, had always been too lazy to bother with such things, and their indifference had rubbed off on him.
Of course, that didn't mean he lacked manners.
After the expected round of polite greetings, they finally entered the grand manor.
Compared to the modest dignity of the Fawley family, the Malfoys were far more renowned—perhaps even the most prestigious wizarding family still in existence.
Tver wasn't quite sure how their polite conversation led them to the dining table, but as the guest, he simply accepted their gracious hospitality.
Amidst the gentle clinking of cutlery and glasses, the conversation flowed easily.
"I don't recall seeing your parents often in the wizarding world," Lucius said with mild curiosity. "What do they usually do?"
Tver's parents spent more time among Muggles than they ever did at home—let alone within wizarding society.
"They, um, enjoy traveling," he answered smoothly. "Even I don't see them very often."
Narcissa gave a wistful sigh. "I wish I had that kind of time and peace of mind. Unfortunately, family matters keep me too busy."
Tver was tempted to ask what "family matters" a typical pure-blood household could possibly have. With house-elves running everything and no jobs to speak of, what could they really be busy with?
Even someone as industrious as Mrs. Weasley still found enough free time to knit and read.
But he wisely kept that thought to himself.
"By the way," Lucius continued, "I've been wondering—why did you decide to teach at Hogwarts, and of all things, Defence Against the Dark Arts?"
It was a question that had clearly been on his mind for months. The curse on that position was legendary—no professor had lasted more than a year since Lucius's own school days.
Only thrill-seekers or those with hidden motives ever applied for such a post. Certainly not respectable pure-bloods like himself.
"For the sake of learning, of course," Tver replied. "You know—Hogwarts is home to the greatest wizard alive. Being around him, one can always learn something new."
He wasn't exactly lying. His Transfiguration skills had advanced largely thanks to Dumbledore's insights. As for things like the Chamber of Secrets, the Philosopher's Stone, or Horcruxes—those were merely extra discoveries along the way.
Even as a former opponent, Lucius couldn't deny that Dumbledore's power was unmatched.
"So you must have spoken with Dumbledore quite often?"
"Quite a bit," Tver said casually.
After all, anyone forced to listen to the old man's weekly lectures would have plenty of "conversations."
"What do you two usually talk about?"
Tver raised an eyebrow and answered as if it were nothing special.
"Oh, all sorts of things—Transfiguration, advanced spells, teaching methods, and, well... the possibility of Voldemort's return—"
Clang.
"What's the matter?"
Though he didn't look up, Tver was certain the smile on his face was dazzling.