On christmas eve, Abraxas held a gift as he knocked on Tom's door. He looked regretfully at the person who had become distant again. "Happy birthday, Little Tom... Also..." He handed over the gift, clenching the hand behind his back. "I hope you can attend my... wedding banquet during this year's holiday."
Tom's hand paused slightly as he unwrapped the gift. He did not know what expression to use in response to the situation. Should he smile and say he was honored, or angrily throw the man out of his dormitory? Picking up the exquisite formal robe from the box, Tom suddenly laughed. Look, how considerate the noble Malfoy was. "I'm afraid I can't do as you wish. This is my return gift. Please leave..."
Holding the small, exquisite snake-shaped alchemical item, Abraxas placed a hand against the tightly shut door. If Little Tom did not show up, how was he supposed to suppress the disgust in his heart?
What a pity. The formal robe I gave you and the one I'll be wearing are a pair...
As humble and polite as ever, Tom flawlessly carried out his plans. He wrote to Mr. Scamander as an admirer, probing into secret past events he had no way of knowing about; he mercilessly crushed those who came looking for trouble; and he kept up close contact with those so-called followers.
Everything looked perfectly normal, yet Tom always had the illusion that he was being controlled by himself. He was like a puppeteer, calmly and indifferently moving his fingers, directing himself, wrapped in threads, according to his own will.
The oppression and suffocation he felt in his body could not fill the emptiness in his soul.
"Tom, what exactly has been going on with you lately?" Ian worriedly waved a hand in front