Lys stepped off the train, draped in the fur cloak Hagrid had given her. Her gaze quickly found Senna pushing the wheelchair-bound and visibly melancholic Noah not far away.
It seemed her father had finally learned what the Black family, whom he had longed to reconnect with, had done to him. He looked as though he had lost even more weight.
Noah was wrapped in a wool cloak—stylish but not windproof. Lys silently waved her wand to clear the snow off him and then draped her own cloak over his legs and shoulders.
"Dad, don't worry. We'll need formal attire for the banquet. Why don't you take me to pick out a dress?" Lys said with a soft smile, looking at Noah.
Senna still paid little attention to Lys. Seeing Noah nod, she simply took the two of them and Apparated to Diagon Alley. Even during Christmas, the alley wasn't crowded. Lys noticed that Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, the shop that tailored dresses, was open and walked in first.
Inside, a little girl was sobbing quietly as her measurements were being taken and her dress details adjusted. "Daddy, I'm scared. I don't want to go. They're all... um..." Before she could finish, the middle-aged man beside her clapped a hand over her mouth.
The man shot a wary glance at Lys and her companions. "Don't worry, Daddy will be with you. Just don't say anything reckless. Let's finish the dress and go home."
The man arrogantly gestured for Madam Malkin to hurry up, then left with his daughter and her understated dress.
Lys indicated to Madam Malkin that she needed formal attire but preferred not to wear a dress. "Honestly, walking in those skirts is just too inconvenient."
In an unexpected turn, Lys ended up leaving with a tailored suit—a style recently popular among upper-class wizards—rather than an imposing gown.
Lys believed that blending in was the best approach for this banquet.
Still, Madam Malkin made some adjustments to the waist and legs of the suit to prevent it from looking too loose and emphasizing Lys's slender frame.
Noah, though puzzled, respected her choice. "A child should wear whatever they like," he thought. Besides, it looked rather good on her. But would the dress he had prepared for his little star be to her liking?
The banquet time was drawing near.
As Lys held the invitation, Noah gripped the wheelchair's armrest and called out to her.
"My little star, right now, I only care about Senna and you."
Lys placed Gaggle on the table, gave Noah a reassuring glance, and was then whisked away by the Portkey invitation to a dimly lit house.
Lys wore the black suit, its dark green patterns shimmering faintly under the light. The tailored trousers paired with silver-trimmed shoes. The open collar revealed a silk green shirt buttoned to the top, and a large silver chain amber pendant hung from her neck, exuding an air of meticulous nonchalance.
The upper-class wizards around her, dressed in formal robes and with impeccably styled hair, only made Lys's slightly tousled rust-red ponytail stand out more.
Lys wasn't trying to be conspicuous; her family simply lacked experience in attending banquets. Senna's last banquet was twenty years ago, back when people still used eagle specimens as headpieces.
Her outfit was the best interpretation of banquet attire she could muster.
She quickly shrank into a corner, silently cursing. Damn the Black family—couldn't they afford proper candles? With such dim lighting, her silver eyes could barely see!
Lys almost wanted to conjure some glowing alchemical lamps to fix the poor visibility.
Amid her frustration over the side effects of the soul stabilizer, a house-elf appeared beside her and bowed deeply. "Honored guest, Kreacher has been ordered to take you to meet the master."
The elf was exceedingly enthusiastic, muttering softly about "the old master's bloodline" as he led Lys up the stairs to a reception room at the end of the second floor.
The door slid open silently, and a suppressed voice from the darkness said, "Come in."
Lys pursed her lips, stepped inside, and waved her wand to replace the nearby candlelight with three clusters of magical flames. The room instantly brightened, revealing Walburga Black, pale-faced and slumped in a high-backed chair.
The sudden brightness clearly discomforted someone who had spent a long time in darkness. Walburga squinted slightly. "Starlys Black, you truly are remarkable," she said, sighing as her son Regulus helped her sit upright. "I only regret not personally eliminating that sickly bastard. That unstable factor in the family has caused such trouble."
Lys rolled her eyes internally. "I never expected a family of lunatics to have moments of regret," she said, watching Walburga clutch her shoulder. Her lips curled into a grin. "Does it hurt? Good. I never imagined that curses and bloodshed could cause such damage." If the timing weren't inappropriate, Lys would have pointed out that Walburga didn't have long to live.
She stepped forward and sank into the decorative sofa across from Walburga. The sofa wasn't designed for comfort, but Lys didn't know that. As she leaned back, she sank into the cushions.
Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Lys adjusted her posture, leaning on the armrest and narrowing her long gray eyes at Walburga. "If you're just here to express regret and pity, there's no need for the esteemed head of the Black family to face a werewolf personally. Surely, you must have a reason for insisting on my attendance tonight?"
Lys didn't understand and didn't know how to probe, so being direct seemed the best approach.
Regulus checked his pocket watch. "Mother, it's almost time. I need to inspect the banquet hall. Will you..." He glanced at Lys and then at Walburga.
"You stay here for now. Orion will handle the rest."
Walburga's gaze burned as she stared at Lys. "Starlys, Star... Is it the Black family tradition to name children after stars?"
She murmured Lys's name. "Your father must long for recognition as a Black family member. Let's make a deal."
Walburga patted Regulus's hand on her shoulder, then stood up, her black attire exuding a steady and composed aura. "Follow me."
She led her son and Lys through hallways and a dark hall into a room with walls painted with a family tree.
"This is the eternal purity of the Black family's past and its future! The Black family needs fresh blood. If you serve the Black family after graduation, I can grant that lowly bastard an annual visit to the Black ancestral home. Your name will also be recorded in this place of honor!"
Looking at the tapestry adorned with portraits and names, Lys saw the achievements of the Black ancestors—Hogwarts headmasters, St. Mungo's directors, first-class medal recipients, Wizengamot members, and more.
Lys began to understand why her father's mother had chosen this family as her last lifeline.
But among the illustrious names, there were gaps—burned-out voids. At the far end of Walburga's lineage, one thread led to an image and name that had been scorched away.
"I refuse," Lys said, her fingers brushing the tapestry. She admired the goblin craftsmanship before turning to Walburga, whose face was filled with astonishment.
"You must think I'm ungrateful, don't you? Standing in your house, yet daring to speak to you like this, right?" Lys anxiously twisted the ouroboros ring on her left middle finger.
"You openly expelled that foolish dog from the family. Why?" Clutching her ring and wand, Lys looked at Walburga. "Why would someone as insistent on family purity and nobility as you recruit a bastard, a werewolf's child? Even though this person caused you immense harm and disgrace."
"You know the Dark Lord's methods, yet you still sacrificed your son to him. The Black family has gambled everything. You want to find a strong Black who values their parents to help your son maintain his dignity and keep unnecessary blood off his hands. And I'm the only candidate you can manipulate."
"Regulus, leave!" Walburga suddenly shouted at Regulus.
"Stay right there!" Lys countered. She continued, "The Black family must be struggling, huh? Facing an even crazier superior, unable to extricate itself, resorting to throwing away a family member to gamble on survival."
"Sirius Black's brain seems broken. His Gryffindor nonsense is your doing, isn't it? So that if you lose, your lineage still has someone bearing the Black name!"
"Mother!" Regulus's eyes widened as he looked at Walburga, whose face had grown even paler.
"So it's true! Then I shouldn't say any more. Look at you—you're practically scared to death~" Lys abruptly shifted her expression from serious to mocking.
"I'm not clever, but I've met that man once. My survival instincts are intact. I just want to live my quiet life. Otherwise, I wouldn't have made it this far. Walburga Black, I'll watch as this dim Black family extinguishes its last candle and as I sever all ties with this surname." Lys retreated from the room, disappearing into the darkness.
She heard the woman's hysterical curses inside. "If she hadn't shown up at the gathering! I was ready to put their name on the casualty list! I even arranged... But she appeared! Damn dog!"
...
Lys took a deep breath and suddenly felt that the corpses on the stone platform weren't so unbearable anymore.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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