If the first two attacks had left the young wizards holding onto a bit of wishful thinking,
this one—especially with even ghosts unable to escape petrification—sent everyone fleeing the school.
Tver was among them, giving Harry no chance to seek comfort. The moment the holidays began, he left Hogwarts without hesitation.
He wasn't afraid of the basilisk. Quite the opposite—though the diary hadn't been found, the basilisk had still attacked Justin according to plan, which eased his mind a little.
On his way out, he ran into Ginny. Seeing her open her mouth as if to speak, then swallow the words back down, Tver offered her a reassuring smile.
He Apparated to the familiar gates of the family estate, and when he didn't see Jeff the house-elf anywhere, he couldn't help giving a wry smile.
Ever since he had renewed his post as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, his mother Brenda hadn't given him a single pleasant look since the summer. If he hadn't stayed healthy and out of trouble, she really might have stuffed him into a cupboard.
Still, being home calmed him.
He walked unhurriedly down the long path lined with hedges, taking in the estate Jeff had carefully tended.
Truth be told, the family manor wasn't anything special. All three family members were rather practical, so the grounds were mostly trees left to grow freely, with Jeff tending to them only now and then.
The only distinctive feature was the large fountain.
According to family stories, his father Mills had gone to great lengths to build it as a way to court his wife.
Most of Jeff's work around the estate revolved around that fountain.
"Young Master," Jeff suddenly appeared beside him, waggling his brows, "the lady says if you don't come in soon, your supper's going to be tossed out."
"…Alright."
After thinking it over and finding no better plan, Tver followed Jeff toward the house.
"By the way, has Mother said anything about me lately? Has her attitude improved at all?"
Jeff thought for a moment.
"The lady's taken a liking to Muggle movies recently. She drags the master to London every day. She hasn't mentioned you at all."
"That's… good news, I suppose."
When Tver stepped inside, he found Brenda sitting elegantly in the living room, sipping her tea.
She rarely put on airs, but her pureblood upbringing showed in the effortless grace of her movements—flawless, impossible to fault.
"Dear Mother," Tver hurried over behind her and began gently massaging her shoulders. "I've missed you terribly."
Mills arrived just then with a tray of freshly baked cranberry cookies, setting them on the table.
"And between your mother and me, who do you miss more?"
Tver's eyes lit up. He snatched up a steaming cookie and stuffed it into his mouth, mumbling, "What happened to you—being so careful even in your dreams?"
Watching the two go back and forth, Brenda set down her teacup with a thump and jabbed her husband's shoulder.
"You spoil him like this. One day he's going to cause real trouble!"
Mills caught her hand immediately.
"Tver's an adult now. We should respect his decisions. Besides, he's always been steady, hasn't he?"
Brenda tugged twice but couldn't pull her hand free. She turned to her son, who was nodding with exaggerated enthusiasm.
"Since he's an adult… I suppose we don't need to save dinner for him?"
Which, of course, meant dinner was saved!
Tver's face brightened. "You really are the best!"
He had finally coaxed Brenda out of her anger—though not without receiving a second warning.
"If I ever find out you were in any kind of danger, I'll lock you in with the Ghoul!"
"There isn't a Ghoul in the house," Tver muttered as he dug into the lavish dinner.
Brenda talked tough but had a soft heart. She'd threatened to throw the food out, yet she had kept everything warm, and every dish was something he liked.
Even the dessert suited his taste perfectly.
"The lady instructed me to prepare it a few days in advance," Jeff whispered.
"If you have that much free time, why don't you go tidy up Tver's room?" Brenda shot the house-elf a sharp look.
I've already cleaned it three times, Jeff thought, holding back a laugh.
But the moment she noticed Tver suppressing a smile, she immediately turned her ire on him.
"Something funny? I sent you several letters asking for Lockhart's autograph, and I still haven't seen it!"
"Didn't I already tell you? Lockhart's a fraud who doesn't know anything. None of the stories in his books are his own experiences," Tver said helplessly.
Brenda just pursed her lips.
She was the perfect example of a Lockhart fan in the wizarding world.
Unlike the students at school, they wouldn't believe he was a fraud until they saw the evidence themselves.
And over the years, Lockhart's branding and publicity had been very effective.
"You're saying he plagiarized other people's work?" Mills frowned. "That's a serious accusation."
He wasn't a Lockhart fan, but he knew exactly how many fans the man had.
To put it bluntly, if Tver's words made it into the Daily Prophet, the letters refuting him could fill the entire manor.
He didn't want his son dragged into trouble over something like this, even if Lockhart really was an idiot.
"Don't worry, I—no, an Auror friend of mine is already collecting evidence. I'm sure it won't be long before Lockhart's true colors are exposed!"
Seeing Tver so confident, Brenda couldn't find anything to say.
"Then before you expose him, can't you at least get me what might become a limited-edition autograph?"
"..."
Tver had no response to that.
"...Here, have a cookie," Mills said with a sigh, offering one to Jeff as well.
Tver spent the next few days in complete leisure.
With no school duties, he didn't have to deal with young wizards and their endless strange questions, nor did he have to think about his own plans.
He could sleep until he woke naturally and enjoy Jeff's meticulous care.
His days were spent flipping through amusing books, sampling the various desserts Mills prepared, and occasionally entertaining Brenda and Mills' curiosity about teaching—"We're reliving our school days!"
After several days, Tver felt himself growing almost lazy.
When it came to corroding one's resolve, laziness was more dangerous than dark magic.
Fortunately, Christmas Eve arrived, bringing rare bustle back into the house...for Fawley Manor welcomed two guests.
...
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