A Well-Intentioned Lie

After two years, Tver finally got to taste his father's cooking again.

It was bizarre, really. His father, the head of one of the twenty-eight pure-blood families, actually ran a French restaurant in the Muggle world!

Fortunately, the Welfare Family kept a sufficiently low profile and rarely interacted with other wizards, so word had never gotten out.

But even if it had, it would not have affected the family in any way.

"Now that you've graduated, have you decided what you want to do?" Brinda suddenly asked.

"Why not come help out at my restaurant? Or open a Chinese restaurant next door?" Mills suggested.

"I've already applied for an assistant teaching position at Hogwarts," Tver said cautiously, carefully avoiding the fact that he had applied for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Why do you suddenly want to go to Hogwarts?" Brinda froze, forgetting to put down her fork. "You were the one who insisted on going to Durmstrang in the first place."

"Durmstrang is still too extreme. I want to take this opportunity to learn more different kinds of magic." This was the explanation Tver had prepared in advance.

Mills gave it some thought. He did not recall ever hearing of an assistant teaching position. "That's not bad, but assistant teacher? When did Hogwarts add a position like that?"

Both Mills and Brinda had graduated from Hogwarts. When Tver had adamantly refused to attend Hogwarts, it had troubled them for quite some time.

"I applied for it specifically. Otherwise, Hogwarts wouldn't let a student who had just graduated teach young wizards."

In truth, Tver suspected that Hogwarts had agreed to accept an application from a Durmstrang graduate because they wanted to spread out the curse on Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Hogwarts really does need another assistant teacher. Otherwise, the professors will be worked to death," Mills said, nodding with satisfaction at his son's choice. "Which subject will you be assisting with?"

Oh no. Tver swallowed, speaking so fast that even he could barely understand himself. "Def'nse Against Dark Arts."

"What?!" Brinda shot to her feet. With her shove, the chair crashed violently to the floor. "I will not allow you anywhere near Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

"No way, you could understand that?!" Tver's jaw dropped.

"Of course I could! I'm your mother. If you're being that vague, then it must be a problematic subject!" Brinda stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes reddening with anger.

"I absolutely will not let you touch that subject! I went through seven Defense Against the Dark Arts professors in seven years of school—the worst one lost an arm!"

Mills hurriedly tried to calm her down. "Tver knows more about the curse than we do. He must have a reason for choosing that subject. Why don't we hear him out?"

If it had been anyone else, Tver would not even have been interested in making excuses.

But the people before him were the parents who had supported him for years. He needed a reason he had prepared in advance.

"Do you remember what happened when I was eleven?" Tver intended to soothe his parents with a well-meaning lie.

"Actually, I was affected by a similar curse. But don't worry—after all those years at school, my teacher already helped me remove it."

"You know that my teacher and Headmaster Dumbledore have a story no one knows about, so he asked me to try lifting the curse on this subject."

"Even if I can't lift it, it's fine. I'm only an assistant teacher, after all. The curse won't stick to me."

Tver had told his parents about his teacher. At first, they had been deeply concerned, but his ability to cast the Patronus Charm had eventually eased their worries.

They simply did not know that as long as a wizard firmly believed in their convictions—even evil convictions—they could still cast the Patronus Charm...

But Brinda's attention was on what had happened seven years ago.

"So the time when you were weak back then was because you were on the brink of death? Why didn't you tell us something that important? I'm your mother!"

The more Brinda spoke, the sadder she became. To a mother, her child's safety was what mattered most. As for that whole mess between Grindelwald and Dumbledore, she could not care less...

Well, she did care a great deal—but only for the gossip.

"Wasn't I afraid you'd worry?" Tver stepped forward quickly and wrapped his arms around his mother. "Besides, I'm fine now. I'm perfectly healthy."

Mills stepped forward as well, removed Tver's hand, and held his wife while softly comforting her.

"Tver isn't impulsive. Even if there is danger, Dumbledore is still at Hogwarts. He won't just stand by and watch Tver get hurt."

"And the Welfare Family isn't without connections. We can always ask a few highly knowledgeable wizards for help."

The two of them embraced affectionately, discussing which famous wizards were skilled at lifting curses, completely ignoring Tver, who was awkwardly exchanging looks with Jeff beside them.

"If you need one, I can give you a hug, but please make it quick. I still have to clear the dishes," Jeff teased.

"...Thanks, I guess."

After that, Brinda and Mills agreed to Tver's decision.

"But only as an assistant teacher. If I find out you want to become the professor for that subject, I'll lock you in a cupboard for the rest of your life!" Brinda emphasized.

That made him breathe a sigh of relief. His parents were his greatest comfort, and gaining their approval was why he had come home at the first opportunity.

Sometimes, he thought that compared to other transmigrators who were alone in the world, having parents who cared for and loved him as he walked through this unfamiliar world was not such a bad thing.

Before going to Hogwarts for his interview, Tver stayed at the manor the entire time.

Though he had not returned for two years, nothing inside had changed. Jeff cleaned his room every day, so it was still spotless.

The bedding had been replaced, though. As Brinda put it, graduation meant turning over a new page.

Life at the manor was actually very simple. When his father had time, he would go work as a chef at the restaurant in London; when he did not, he spent it with Brinda.

Brinda's life was even simpler.

Shopping and going to the movies were her greatest pursuits. She did not seem like a witch at all, but more like a carefree society lady.

Tver spent all day at home. Compared with Durmstrang's military-style management, life at the manor was far more leisurely.

But he did not feel the slightest bit unaccustomed to it. If anything, he adapted even better—at least there were no overly persistent wizards constantly coming to challenge him to duels.

He had never been someone who enjoyed wandering about. On the contrary, staying in his room and reading was his greatest hobby.

He spent several days organizing his book collection. If he became a teaching assistant at Hogwarts, he would undoubtedly have to live in the castle.

But that would not happen until the school term began on September 1. He could pack then.

Still, if Aurors saw these books, they would probably arrest him without a word.

Because the titles of these books did not exactly look respectable.

Things like <Principles of Dark Magic—How to Properly Cast Dark Magic>, Faith Control—Make Your Dark Magic More Powerful, Origins of Curse Magic, and so on. The titles alone were enough to earn Tver a permanent room in Azkaban—preferably a VIP suite.