The Christmas holiday arrived quickly, carried on the eager anticipation of the students.
The break itself was enough to make them happy. Now, with the addition of the long-awaited Yule Ball, most of them had already lost focus in class.
So, in order to ensure they would enjoy a truly fulfilling holiday, Tver thoughtfully handed out the compilation of exam papers that Barty Jr. had spent half a year putting together.
Having once been a student himself, Tver knew exactly how corrosive a holiday could be to one's will to study.
As one of Hogwarts' most beloved professors, he naturally could not allow such a tragedy to occur.
Just imagining their miserable expressions was enough to make him laugh in his sleep.
Recently, Dumbledore had been pulling him into long discussions about Voldemort, dissecting Tom Riddle's transformation from orphanage boy to Dark Lord in painstaking detail.
It almost felt as if Dumbledore were preparing to retire and hand everything over.
Compared to the rather gentle guidance he had once given Harry, Dumbledore showed no such restraint with Tver.
Their conversations revolved around human nature and the various factors that had gradually twisted Voldemort's mind.
The more Tver analyzed, however, the stranger he felt.
Dumbledore seemed to be implying something, as though using Voldemort as a cautionary example.
It increasingly felt like he was grooming a successor.
That change was not entirely unwelcome.
He had not fully won Dumbledore over, but at least the two of them now stood on common ground regarding Voldemort.
And on the matter of Muggles, Dumbledore was gradually being swayed by reality itself.
So Tver found himself both burdened and oddly pleased.
Lying in bed, he indulged in the rare temptation to sleep in.
It was Christmas Day. Even though there had been a Christmas Eve feast the night before, everyone was still looking forward to the ball that evening.
Early that morning, he could already hear students laughing and shouting outside the castle, their voices breaking through the Silencing Charm he had placed.
Of course, he had deliberately weakened the charm. He needed to keep track of what was happening outside his office.
Incidentally, this year saw the largest number of students staying at Hogwarts for Christmas. Aside from a handful who had no interest in the ball, nearly everyone had chosen to remain at school.
Tver had done the same.
A few days earlier, he had returned home briefly to have a meal with his "busy" parents before coming back.
As for his teacher, he was nowhere to be found again.
According to Cynthia, the man had conquered the entire Department of Magical Games and Sports in half a day, delegated all his responsibilities, and then set off alone on a "tour" of neighboring countries.
Whether he would make it back in time for the ball tonight was anyone's guess.
After a moment's thought, Tver gave up on staying in bed. Even though it was early, his routine forced him upright.
Then he froze.
Christmas presents.
A mountain of Christmas presents.
The night before, he had removed the protective enchantments from his office so the house-elves could deliver the gifts inside rather than pile them outside the door.
Half-asleep, he had sensed them coming and going throughout the night.
He just had not expected this many.
Gift boxes of every size and color stretched from the head of his bed to the foot, leaving him nowhere to step.
He stared in disbelief, then reached for the box at the very top of the pile beside his pillow.
It was not particularly ornate, but the sender had wrapped it with meticulous care. Every fold of paper and ribbon was neat and precise.
He opened it gently.
Inside lay a sheet of parchment covered in messy handwriting and a pair of dark red woolen socks.
"Dobby didn't know whether Professor Fawley would like a house-elf's gift. Dobby wanted to ask in person, but Professor does not seem to like people entering his office without permission, so Dobby delivered it first.
If Professor does not like it… then… then please throw it away. After all, for a gentleman like Professor, receiving a gift from a house-elf is far too improper…"
Tver could practically see Dobby's conflicted little face as he wrote those lines.
He chuckled and picked up the socks.
Whether by coincidence or keen observation, the color was exactly his favorite dark red.
Aside from his family, Cynthia, and his teacher, he had never mentioned that preference to anyone.
And this was the first time he had ever received a gift from a house-elf. Dobby had even embroidered a crest on them, a double-headed eagle with a stag's head, identical to the Durmstrang emblem.
How the little fellow had learned that, he had no idea.
Tver slipped them on and sighed in appreciation. They fit perfectly and were astonishingly comfortable, so comfortable that he almost did not want to take them off.
So, wearing the socks as a sign of respect, he began opening the rest of his Christmas presents one by one.
In previous years, Cynthia had helped him. This time, he opened every single one himself.
Most of them were from students. Apparently, leaving them with a thick stack of exam papers had not dampened their enthusiasm. Nearly every gift was carefully prepared.
For a fleeting second, he felt a trace of guilt.
By the time he finished sorting everything, it was already noon.
His stomach growled in protest. Tver quickly changed clothes and headed for the Great Hall.
Along the way, he ran into many excited students, all animatedly discussing the ball and imagining how they would make a dazzling impression that evening.
The Great Hall was even livelier. Every now and then, someone would suddenly turn into a plump yellow canary for a full minute before transforming back, bursting into laughter with their friends.
"Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said sternly, "while your idea is indeed creative, I must insist that these biscuits are not to be served to guests at tonight's ball."
The Canary Creams were the twins' latest invention. Though not officially released yet, their limited sales had already swept through Hogwarts.
Among the gifts Tver received from them, aside from the usual singing figurine, was a large pile of those biscuits.
Whether they had forgotten or were simply playing a prank, they had not included a single note of warning.
At McGonagall's words, the Weasley twins exchanged bright looks. Instead of being intimidated, they seemed to have been inspired.
"In that case," Tver suggested with a smile, "if the two of you eat through the entire stock before tonight, then no guests will be turning into canaries."
The Weasley twins froze on the spot. Σ(☉▽☉"a