Knockturn Alley.
"Crunch, crunch."
Tver's gaze rested on the Borgin and Burkes shop across the street as he deftly pulled another small cookie from his bag and slipped it into his mouth.
This time he was dressed in a tailored suit, topped with a long coat—black on the outside, crimson on the inside. If he weren't carrying a paper bag in one hand and nibbling cookies with the other, he could have passed for a young aristocrat on his way to a ballroom. As it was, he simply looked like an aristocrat eating cookies.
Marvolio beside him wasn't disguised as Dawlish today. He had reverted to his usual wickedly handsome appearance—a rare sight. If not for the plain black robes he wore, he could have easily charmed half the witches walking by.
He tilted his head up with mild exasperation. The sun now hung high overhead, bright enough that even gloomy Knockturn Alley looked washed in light. They had been waiting almost all morning.
"Are we really just sitting here doing nothing?"
"Malfoy Manor is under Ministry surveillance. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to be seen there with you," Tver said lazily.
He hadn't expected the Ministry to continue watching the place even after Arthur Weasley uncovered the illegal items. The Weasley family had already gone off to Egypt, yet the surveillance order still hadn't been lifted.
Cynthia had explained that certain Ministry officials had insisted on it—purely to retaliate against Lucius for dragging the Ministry into scandal. Not because the Malfoys were universally hated. It was simply that everyone liked to kick a man when he was down.
The family hadn't actually fallen, but this was their way of expressing dissatisfaction with Lucius for manipulating the Ministry. Tver, of course, found the whole situation delightful.
The worse the Malfoys fared now, the better. After a little more time, once the officials found new targets and forgot about him, Lucius would bounce back. And that would make a whole year of Tver's scheming go to waste—absolutely unacceptable.
They didn't have to wait much longer.
Before Tver opened the second packet of cookies, and just after the seventeenth suspicious wizard drifted past pretending not to stare, Lucius finally appeared.
This time he didn't bring Draco. Alone, he carried a small bag, wrapped in a muted black cloak, skulking along with exaggerated caution. His face was hidden. His signature blond hair was completely concealed.
But Tver and Marvolio recognized him instantly. Robes of that quality simply didn't appear on Knockturn Alley's dark wizards. Only wealthy families owned garments so understated yet unmistakably elegant.
"Good… afternoon, Uncle Lucius."
Tver stepped out from behind his cover, waving cheerfully as if stumbling upon him by chance. Marvolio followed behind, looking like he was settling in to enjoy a good show.
Lucius had just reached for the door of Borgin and Burkes when Tver's greeting made him start violently. He jerked backward, then exhaled in relief when he realized who it was.
"Oh. It's you, Tver."
He had finally found an opportunity to discreetly dispose of the last of his family's dark artifacts. For a moment he thought an Auror hound had sniffed him out again.
"And this is…? I feel like I've seen him somewhere."
Lucius frowned, eyeing Marvolio with the usual Malfoy disdain.
Marvolio bristled immediately.
"We met last year. Back then you were clueless, but at least you looked more impressive than you do now."
He looked away with a dismissive snort, as if Lucius wasn't worth acknowledging.
A flicker of anger crossed Lucius's face. He now remembered the two men he'd seen in the shop last year.
"So where's your partner? Or… your master?"
The words hit Marvolio's pride like an arrow. True, Tver did control him. But Tver had always protected his ego by avoiding outright mention of that fact.
Lucius had stomped directly on the sore spot.
Marvolio lunged forward, eyes blazing. Lucius didn't back down. He'd been drowning in Malfoy family troubles for months, and just when he'd managed a breath of relief, Marvolio had come along to rip open the wound again.
Seeing the two Yin-Yang warlocks about to start fighting, Tver shot Marvolio a sharp glare and immediately pulled Lucius into the shop.
Without their disguises, plenty of nearby wizards had already noticed the brewing conflict.
"Welcome…" Burke's smile froze mid-expression.
He didn't recognize Tver, but anyone who could yank Lucius Malfoy around like that was clearly not someone to provoke. Marvolio, who had just been trading glares with Lucius, felt the pressure even more—the building next door still hadn't been fully repaired from their last encounter.
And this time, there was no Mr. Percival present to keep him in check. What was he supposed to do?!
Burke forced out a bitter greeting.
"…Welcome. What brings the three of you here?"
Hopefully nothing. At this point, he didn't even want the Malfoy family's business.
"Ah," Tver finally let go of Lucius's arm. "Uncle Lucius, go ahead and take care of your business first."
Lucius huffed, shot Marvolio a disdainful look, then carried his small bag to the counter and began muttering to Burke.
Tver took the opportunity to drag the fuming Marvolio into a corner, lowering his voice.
"Lucius will be our ally in the future. There's no need to stoop to his level."
"With so many pure-blood families, why choose the washed-up Malfoys?!" Marvolio glared at Lucius's back with obvious resentment.
"Because the Malfoys are the easiest to sway," Tver explained calmly. "A powerful family that still bends with the wind like this? There aren't many left."
Pure-blood families were usually either rigid to the point of stupidity or missing a few screws entirely. Someone as sharp and flexible as Lucius Malfoy was becoming rare.
Tver needed such a figure—someone who could act as a leader and help him manage the other pure-blood families.
And among those with enough prestige who could still be pulled into his camp, the Malfoys were the only real candidates.
This was the reason why, even in the original timeline, Voldemort punished the Malfoys but never abandoned them—even after Lucius lost a Horcrux.
Otherwise, Tver wouldn't have spent an entire year orchestrating things just for this opportunity.
Marvolio's anger cooled somewhat. In the end, he couldn't go against Tver—and he certainly didn't possess the overwhelming dominance Voldemort would later display.
"With my wand pointed at his head, I could still handle this," he said flatly.
"…"
Tver could only stare at him with a complicated expression.
Marvolio waved a hand dismissively.
"Alright, alright. I know your way is more effective than mine." He curled his lip. "But if he provokes me again, don't blame me for tearing him apart."
...
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