"Oh, I certainly believe you, Miss Starlis, if you can manage it."
After confirming that the left arm he was guarding held no hidden wand, only some ugly scars, Menelquade summoned a bottle of whiskey and refilled Lys's glass.
# Menelquade: "Miss Lys is even more charming after a drink."
Menelquade swirled the glass in his hand.
# Menelquade: "Don't take offense, Mr. Black, but I suggest you maintain your previous composure."
Without moving a muscle, he glanced at Noah. The whiskey glass on the table slid toward Noah, tilting slightly as if inviting him to pick it up.
Senna, who had tried to raise her wand earlier, had it disarmed and returned to her hand, leaving her fuming with rage, her face flushed.
The wizard standing behind them didn't even bother to regard Noah's wand. Despite having just regained control of his magic, Noah tightly gripped the wheelchair's armrests, resisting the implied command to lift the glass.
For to do so would be to tacitly approve of Menelquade's harassment of his daughter.
Lys's heavy breathing hitched. She released her magic, trying to pull the glass back. Her bloodshot eyes fixed on the glass, her teeth clenched in frustration.
Two streams of magic wrestled over the glass, causing it to shift back and forth. The whiskey inside trembled and splashed across the table. Menelquade's previously relaxed demeanor grew serious as he gradually sat upright.
The playful expression vanished from his face, replaced by a look of intrigue, as if he had discovered an unexpected challenge in what he thought was mere amusement.
The overflowing magic from both sides distorted the surrounding space, making their figures appear slightly blurred.
Books trembled and fell from the shelves. The alchemy lamp Lys had crafted flickered uncontrollably under the magical pressure. Metallic clinks and small explosions echoed from the bar and Lys's corner, where her alchemical trinkets were stored.
Even alchemical armor, designed to withstand two or three spells, shattered under the stray magic. Senna's frown deepened as she tightened her grip on Noah's hand.
Lys's eyes quickly filled with blood vessels, and her already flushed face turned crimson from the alcohol.
Despite being empty, the glass continued to tremble, maintaining the tilted position dictated by Menelquade's control.
Frustrated, Lys slammed her hands onto the table with such force that the opal ring on her finger struck the wood with a resounding crack.
The surge of magic shattered the glass enveloped in Menelquade's cold magic into fine powder.
For a moment, the room fell silent. Lys tensed her neck, her alcohol-clouded mind slowly starting to function again. She blinked, adjusting to the faint silver glow spreading around her.
Exhaling the breath she had been holding since the struggle began, Lys picked up her glass, now containing only a bit of whiskey, and downed it in one gulp.
# Lys: "My apologies. My dad doesn't drink. It makes him cry."
Pouring herself another glass, Lys downed half of it before raising her glass toward Menelquade in a gesture of acknowledgment. Her heart was pounding in her chest.
When the glass shattered into powder, a murderous intent, pure and chilling, had hovered over the three of them.
While she was already showing signs of strain, her opponent had merely let a few strands of hair fall out of place.
Accepting the clumsy but truthful excuse, Menelquade calmly reached out with his left hand to tuck the stray strands back into place.
# Menelquade: "Miss Black, you're remarkably talented for someone so young. What's even more impressive is your composure at such a passionate age. Have you ever considered developing your talents in Germany?"
Lys remained silent, but Senna responded firmly,
# Senna: "The Karkaroff family in Germany."
Seeing him nod, Senna narrowed her eyes slightly.
# Menelquade: "Indeed, Mrs. Black."
The respectful address marked a shift in Menelquade's attitude. From a haughty tormentor, he now sat upright, making a formal proposal, his earlier frivolity largely gone.
# Senna: "However, this will have to wait. Our family has unfinished business in Britain that requires a few more years of attention."
Menelquade poured himself half a glass of whiskey and gestured toward Lys,
# Menelquade: "If you remain as brilliant then as you are now, Miss Black, I'll extend my invitation once more. Our family welcomes all promising young talents."
Lys said nothing, merely nodding. She wasn't entirely sure what was happening.
A knock at the door interrupted them.
# Menelquade: "It seems my men were delayed by Mrs. Black's… unique defensive enchantments."
Menelquade spread his hands in mock apology.
Two men entered, carrying a wooden cabinet that had clearly been torn from a wall. They placed it respectfully in front of the sofa and opened its doors.
Lys stared at the cabinet, her heart sinking. It was the one from her mother's potion room.
Her home had been ransacked.
Lys's lips trembled as she recalled the murderous intent from earlier. In the end, she swallowed her grievances.
Other than those bumbling Gryffindors, she hadn't fought anyone before…
Taking Gulp from Noah's lap, she draped the snake over her shoulders, nuzzling its head.
Gulp's tail slapped against Lys's bare left arm, leaving a series of red welts. Startled, Lys quickly soothed the snake, stroking it from head to tail.
Once calmed, Gulp coiled tightly around Lys's neck, its tail covering her sleeveless left arm.
Lys paused, then placed her left hand over Gulp's hissing head, silencing it.
Standing unsteadily from the alcohol, Lys excused herself,
# Lys: "I'm going to change, Mr. Karkaroff. Excuse me."
She intended to retrieve a shirt from the rooftop storage cabinet but found a wizard blocking the staircase. Forced to turn back, she retrieved her Christmas party suit from the bar.
Adjusting the shirt collar, Lys returned to the table, summoning a chair to sit beside Noah. This time, Menelquade didn't stop them from sitting together.
Menelquade pointed to the bottles of potions, prompting Senna to explain something. Lys sat in a daze, struggling to follow the sharp, cryptic exchange, and lamenting her lack of reading.
Hearing her stomach growl, Lys turned to Senna,
# Lys: "I'll make some food while you talk."
Skipping the rooftop, Lys retrieved her cooking tools from the bar. She lit a fire, frying steaks, boiling chicken legs, and tossing a salad. She even mixed a large drink with dental-strengthening potion.
As the aroma of food filled the room, Lys skillfully used household spells, occasionally glancing at Menelquade, who was conversing with her mother. Despite knowing she couldn't win, she worried uselessly.
When Lys finally served the food, Senna was still holding a potion bottle, engaged in heated debate with a potion master who had accompanied Menelquade.
Lys admired her mother's courage. Moments ago, a blade of intent had hung over her neck, yet now she argued boldly.
Placing the food before Noah, Lys ensured everything was arranged to his taste. She quickly ate her chicken leg, her mind racing.
When the debate finally subsided, Menelquade made his intentions clear, leaving Lys and her family to ponder the implications of their encounter.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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