After two years, Tver finally got to taste his father's cooking again.
Strange as it was, his father—head of one of the 28 pureblood families—actually ran a French restaurant in the Muggle world! Thankfully, the Fawley family kept a low profile and rarely mingled with other wizards, so word never spread. Not that it would've mattered much even if it had.
"Now that you've graduated, have you decided what you want to do?" Brenda asked suddenly.
"Why not help out at my restaurant? Or open a Chinese place next door?" Mills suggested.
"I've applied for a teaching assistant position at Hogwarts," Tver said cautiously, careful not to mention that it was for Defence Against the Dark Arts.
"Why the sudden interest in Hogwarts?" Brenda was so surprised she forgot to put down her fork. "You were the one who insisted on going to Durmstrang back then."
"Durmstrang's too extreme. I want to use this chance to explore different kinds of magic." Tver had prepared that explanation in advance.
Mills thought for a moment. He didn't recall Hogwarts ever having an assistant position. "That's not bad, but a teaching assistant? Since when does Hogwarts offer that?"
Both Mills and Brenda were Hogwarts alumni. Tver's firm refusal to attend had troubled them for quite some time.
"I applied for it specifically. Otherwise, Hogwarts wouldn't let a fresh graduate teach young wizards."
In truth, Tver suspected the school only approved his application to offload some of the curse on Defence Against the Dark Arts. After all, he was a Durmstrang graduate.
"Hogwarts definitely could use another assistant. Otherwise, the professors will work themselves into the ground," Mills nodded approvingly. "Which class are you assisting?"
Crap. Tver swallowed hard and blurted it out so fast he barely understood himself. "Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"What?!" Brenda shot to her feet, pushing her chair so hard it clattered to the floor. "I absolutely forbid you from touching Defence Against the Dark Arts!"
"No way—how could you even make that out?!" Tver stared in disbelief.
"Of course I could! I'm your mother! A mum knows when something sounds shady!" Brenda fumed, hands on her hips, her eyes red with anger.
"There's no way I'm letting you near that class. I went through seven Defence Against the Dark Arts professors in seven years. The worst one lost an arm!"
Mills quickly stepped in to calm her. "Tver knows more about the curse than we do. I'm sure he has his reasons. Let's at least hear him out."
If it were anyone else, Tver wouldn't have bothered explaining. But these were his parents—his pillars through the years. They deserved a solid answer.
"Do you two remember what happened when I was eleven?" Tver decided to comfort them with a small, well-meaning lie.
"I was hit with a similar curse. But don't worry—after years at school, my teacher helped me lift it."
"You know, that teacher had some kind of hidden connection with Headmaster Dumbledore. So he asked me to try and break the curse on the class."
"Even if I can't, it's fine. I'm just a teaching assistant. The curse won't latch onto me."
Tver had told his parents about that teacher before. They were skeptical at first, but the fact he could consistently cast the Patronus Charm eventually put them at ease.
What they didn't know was—so long as a wizard truly believed in their convictions, even dark ones—they could still cast a Patronus…
…
Brenda's attention, however, was fixed on what had happened seven years ago.
"So, back then, you were weak because you were on the verge of death? Why didn't you tell us something so important? I'm your mother!"
Brenda grew increasingly upset. For a mother, her child's safety always came first. As for the whole Grindelwald and Dumbledore mess, she didn't really care...
Well, maybe she did—but only as juicy gossip.
"I just didn't want you to worry," Tver said, quickly stepping forward to hug his mother. "Besides, I'm fine now. Really healthy."
Mills walked up too, gently pried Tver's hand away, and hugged his wife, softly comforting her.
"Tver isn't the reckless type. Even if there was danger, Hogwarts has Dumbledore. He wouldn't just stand there and let anything happen to Tver."
"And the Fawley family isn't exactly lacking in connections—we could've found a few well-versed wizards to help."
The two embraced affectionately, chatting about which famous wizards were best at lifting curses, completely ignoring Tver, who exchanged an awkward glance with Jeff beside him.
"If you need a hug, I can give you one," Jeff joked. "But make it quick—I still have to clear the table."
"...Thanks, I guess."
Eventually, Brenda and Mills agreed to Tver's decision.
"But only as a teaching assistant! If I ever find out you're trying to become the professor for that class, I'll lock you in a cupboard for life!" Brenda warned.
That was a relief for him. His parents were his greatest source of comfort, and getting their approval was the main reason he'd come home right away.
Sometimes he thought, compared to other transmigrators wandering through an unfamiliar world alone, having loving and supportive parents wasn't such a bad deal.
Before heading to Hogwarts for the interview, Tver stayed at the manor.
He hadn't been back in two years, but everything inside looked exactly the same. Jeff cleaned his room every day, so it was still spotless.
The bedding had been swapped out, though. As Brenda put it, "Graduation marks the start of a new chapter."
Life at the manor was actually quite simple. When his father had time, he'd go work as a chef at their restaurant in London. Otherwise, he stayed home to keep Brenda company.
Brenda's days were even simpler—shopping and movie outings were her main affairs. She didn't seem like a witch at all, more like a carefree lady of leisure.
Tver stayed at home all day. Compared to Durmstrang's militarized lifestyle, the manor felt a lot more relaxed.
And he didn't mind one bit. In fact, he preferred it here. At least he didn't have to deal with some overly persistent wizard pestering him for a duel.
He wasn't the type to roam around outside. On the contrary, curling up in his room with a good book was his favorite thing to do.
He spent a few days organizing his personal collection. If he really did become a teaching assistant at Hogwarts, he'd definitely have to live at the castle.
But that wouldn't happen until September 1st when the school year began, so there was still time to pack later.
Though, if the Aurors ever saw his collection, they'd probably arrest him on the spot.
Just the titles alone looked shady—books like Principles of Dark Magic: How to Properly Release Dark Magic, Faith Control: Make Your Dark Magic More Powerful, and Origins of Curse Magic practically screamed, "Give Tver a permanent suite in Azkaban"—and not just any cell, but a VIP one.