Deep into the night, the house was silent.
But faint voices drifted from Tver's room.
"What should I do?" Tver asked.
"Maybe you just need to relax?" Cynthia guessed.
"No, no, no. You should take the initiative," Marvolio objected immediately.
"Take the initiative? But I haven't felt any—"
Frustrated, Tver flipped open the book in front of him and pointed at a line.
"Magic and will as free as the wind."
He'd been reading this book for more than two months. He still hadn't finished it, mostly because the deeper he went, the more incomprehensible it became.
The concepts grew increasingly abstract. By the time he reached the halfway point, the content hardly resembled anything from the existing magical system.
So he took the chance to call Cynthia and Marvolio to his room for a discussion.
As for them learning from it on the side—he didn't mind.
Tver was eager for Cynthia to grow stronger, especially now that their missions were becoming more and more demanding. Ordinary strength wasn't going to cut it.
As for Marvolio… with his soul firmly in Tver's grasp, there was nothing to worry about even if he learned a thing or two.
Still, both of them were completely lost.
Even Tver, after two months of reading, found the text obscure. To them, it was like trying to decode a foreign script—they recognized every word, but none of it made sense together.
"Have you ever experienced being without a body?" Marvolio suddenly asked.
Tver shot him a strange look.
"Do you think I'd ever feel something like that?"
Marvolio choked, then after a long moment finally said slowly,
"Fine. I can tell you that when you become a pure soul, you see the world differently."
"In that state, it feels like nothing in the world can bind you, and also like the entire world binds you completely."
"If I had to put it precisely, it's like you're seeing the edges of this world."
"And then?" Tver asked urgently.
Something in him had clicked.
Marvolio just shrugged.
"How should I know what comes after? All I felt was that everything reacts faster, everything feels great, and there's this incredible sense of freedom."
"If you want to experience it yourself, why not try making a Horcrux? I can—"
"Bang!"
"Ow!"
Cynthia punched him straight to the floor.
"I'm not letting you teach Tver any of that nonsense!"
Tver ignored their scuffle. He rubbed his chin, lost in thought.
Abandoning his body or crafting a Horcrux wasn't what Rowena Ravenclaw intended at all.
But Marvolio's description matched what the book described.
Which meant there had to be another way to reach that state.
Pure magic… the structure of life force?
Maybe he could try that…
"Tver, you're not actually thinking about making a Horcrux, are you?" Cynthia asked, worried.
Seeing him deep in thought, she feared he really meant to split his soul.
Tver gave a helpless smile and patted her head. "Don't worry. I don't plan on turning into a neurotic mess like Marvolio."
...
The next day, Tver received another mountain of gifts.
Thankfully, Jeff was there to help, and they quickly sorted through everything.
Most of them were books, which he added to his study.
The remaining little trinkets he kept in his room.
He ultimately chose to keep only a pair of Weasley dolls—yes, another masterpiece by George and Fred.
This time, pressing their heads made them sing, and pressing again stopped the song.
Honestly, it was the most unique gift he'd received, so he planned to bring it to school and keep it on his desk.
But that was just a small interlude. For the next several days, they threw themselves into studying the books from the Diadem.
Cynthia and Marvolio worked hard to absorb the rare knowledge.
Since Tver needed their help, he explained many parts of the text and shared his own understanding.
They still hadn't figured out what the "wind-like freedom" described in the book truly meant, but all of them had grown noticeably stronger.
First was transfiguration. The books already contained material on the subject, and with Tver occasionally teaching them human transfiguration, Cynthia—who was the weakest in transfiguration among the three—gained the most.
Second was casting speed, or rather, how their casting motions had become more relaxed.
As Marvolio put it, "Even the speed of casting the Killing Curse has improved quite a bit."
But as the days passed, the holiday was nearly over.
On the final day, they still had one last task.
"Cynthia, I'm leaving that Shafiq Madam to you."
Tver said goodbye to Cynthia at the manor gates.
The witch was reluctant, but she still turned and Apparated away without hesitation.
"As for you, you're coming with me to visit someone," Tver said to Marvolio.
"Visit?" Marvolio looked confused. "Do you really need me to come along?"
"You'll need this in the future."
Tver placed a hand on his shoulder, and in the next moment, they both vanished.
As soon as they landed, Marvolio looked around and couldn't help asking, "This is a Muggle neighborhood, isn't it?"
"Correct." Tver scanned their surroundings.
It was an ordinary Muggle community, full of small detached houses, all painted in similar colors and decorated in similar ways—Christmas lights, tossed-aside ornaments, Christmas trees, and the like.
Except for one house.
A few Muggles walked past without giving it so much as a glance.
Clearly, this was a wizard's home.
And that was perfectly normal.
Most wizards either lived in secluded places, like the Fawley family or the Weasleys,
or they lived mixed among Muggles.
Otherwise, Hogsmeade wouldn't be the only all-wizard village in Britain.
Most wizards—aside from pure-blood families—had countless ties to Muggles, so living alongside them wasn't something they rejected.
Tver led the still-curious Marvolio straight toward their destination.
"You should at least tell me how I'm supposed to act. Friendly?" Marvolio asked, looking the house over.
"That depends on the other party's attitude and cooperation."
"Understood. That's what I'm best at."
He grinned, and his otherwise handsome face twisted into something strange and unsettling.
Knock, knock.
Tver tapped gently on the door, the sound almost swallowed by the wind.
There was no need to worry. He could sense the magic on the door—it would notify the homeowner of their arrival.
After a moment, the peephole morphed into a mouth, bright red lips and all.
"Gentlemen, state your names and purpose truthfully, or I have the right to notify the Ministry's Aurors."
Tver gave a mild, polite smile.
"Tver Fawley, current Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. Beside me is Dawlish, an elite Auror of the Ministry of Magic. You have absolutely no need to worry about safety."
"As for our visit, we have a request. We're hoping to seek the help of Madam Rita Skeeter."