In her dazed state, Lys felt herself falling into a world of silver and white, her consciousness muddled as she gazed around in confusion.
She wandered aimlessly, clutching her arm, vaguely hearing faint voices crying out in pain, lamenting hunger and cold.
Along the path were blurred houses and the twisted, spindly shadows of trees.
A small figure in a red camisole darted past her. Lys tried to chase after it, but quickly lost sight of the girl.
"Doesn't it hurt?" came a childish voice. Lys looked back to find the figure she'd failed to catch—a tiny girl.
Lys's mind was so clouded she could barely think, taking ages to answer: "It does hurt."
As if that triggered something, she suddenly realized just how much pain she was in—such terrible pain!
Everything in the silver world began to distort, as though her agony was infecting the entire realm. Lys clutched not only her left arm but her head as well, feeling as if needles had been driven into her brain.
She couldn't control her urge to lash out, to destroy something, but her hands held no wand. That soul-deep anguish and madness left Lys feeling both tortured and powerless.
Soul-deep... pain...
That same irritability and weakness she felt when lacking stabilizer...
When Lys opened her eyes, she felt a slight coolness at the corner of her eye. She tried to lift her hand to touch it, only to discover herself trapped in familiar weakness.
"Perhaps our delicate Miss Black, after wasting countless of my potions, has finally deigned to awaken." Severus Snape's low, gentle voice reached her ears.
Lys knew that the gentler and calmer Severus's tone became, the more severe his displeasure.
She took several short breaths to gather a bit of strength, completely ignoring Snape's sarcasm to offer a simple greeting: "Hello, Severus."
Her voice was so weak it was barely a whisper, making Snape raise an eyebrow as he glanced at the potion bottle a house-elf had been feeding her.
For a moment, he actually questioned his own potion-making skills.
After hesitating briefly, he simply poured the remaining half-bottle directly into Lys's mouth.
The sudden influx of potion made Lys cough violently, but she managed to swallow it down. It tasted like pickled, rotting toad brains—an indescribable flavor and texture that finally gave Lys a bit more strength.
"Thank you, Severus. I really didn't expect yesterday—"
"Yesterday? I think our fragile Miss Black didn't expect it herself, did she?" Snape interrupted Lys's words. "Receiving the Dark Mark left this 'delicate' girl unconscious for over ten days."
"Over ten days!" The strength Lys had just gathered to sit up scattered again with her exclamation.
She fumbled around and grasped what seemed to be a bed rail, asking again: "More than ten days?"
"Fifteen days."
Lys thought of something and her lips curved into a mischievous smile.
"So did you attend the wedding?"
The sound of a shattering potion bottle made Lys laugh aloud. After angry footsteps departed, Lys felt around and found her wand, along with Gagbon, who was coiled by the pillow, constantly avoiding her touch.
She traced her right hand from the two small bumps on Gagbon's snout all the way to his short, thick tail tip. After confirming Gagbon was truly unharmed, Lys reached out to feel her splinted left arm.
Tentatively touching the corner of her eye with her fingertip, Lys sighed, and her teasing smile at Snape's expense faded.
To prevent any portraits or objects that might spy on her behavior in this space, Lys suppressed her next sigh and actions.
Just as Lys was steadying her emotions and preparing to extend her magic to determine her location, Lucius's increasingly distinctive theatrical tone from recent years rang out at the door.
"Oh, Starlis, your performance that night was truly... unique..."
Lys blinked and turned her head toward the sound, the heavily emphasized words giving her an uneasy feeling.
"The Lord's impression of you is exceedingly poor. If there weren't no precedent, I think your Dark Mark might even be revoked."
"I didn't want it either, but last night—I mean that day—I really couldn't hold on any longer before collapsing. I hope Mr. Thomas, who recommended me, won't face the Lord's wrath."
At this mention, Lucius gave a short laugh. Thinking of that old fool Thomas being frequently punished before the Dark Lord these past two weeks, he couldn't suppress the pleasant feeling that spread through him. He'd certainly taken advantage of this opportunity to advance some of his previous arrangements into Thomas's positions.
Lys extended her magic and deduced from the exaggerated relief carvings on the wall that this was likely a guest room at Malfoy Manor.
Pressing her fingers together, Lys asked: "Thank you for your care during this time, Senior. May I ask where the small items from my original clothing are now?"
With a snap of fingers, a Malfoy house-elf appeared half a minute later, carrying a tray with neatly pressed clothing and Lys's rings, bracelets, and other accessories.
Lys lightly traced her hand across the tray before accurately picking up her ring—this small gesture made Lucius narrow his eyes slightly as he looked at Lys's eyes.
"Your eyes..."
"Old injury flaring up. I can't see anything. Last time this happened at Hogwarts, I could write to Dumbledore for help given my student status. Now, I can only rely on time for gradual recovery."
Lys stared into the endless silver light before her, shrugging helplessly. After all, she didn't know whether this blindness was from some magical power developing again or damage extending from elsewhere.
She had been in such terrible pain, after all.
If Lucius hadn't discovered Lys's vacant eyes that very night, and if he hadn't confirmed her eye condition over two years ago, he might well have suspected Lys was feigning this condition to avoid becoming a Death Eater.
But now, it didn't matter.
That night, the Dark Lord had said Starlis Black would follow him for now.
Given this sickly state—either unconscious or blind whenever mentioned—she would soon become a marginal figure, completely cut off from the inner circle.
Thinking of the Dark Lord's arrangements for him after Starlis left that night, Lucius couldn't help but contemplate with satisfaction.
Lucius, holding his cane and blocking the doorway, was asked by Snape to step aside. Snape had brought three more potions to force down Starlis, but seeing that though she was still somewhat weak, she could already stand and care for herself, he felt slightly disappointed.
He hadn't forgotten how this rude woman had restrained him that night and force-fed him a severely overdosed stabilizer.
Lucius nodded to Snape, exchanged greetings with Lys, and left first.
After Snape handed the potions to Lys, he seemed somewhat hesitant, but still said: "I didn't attend the wedding."
Lys shivered from the terrible taste of the potion—that sticky, chewy texture that was half down her throat and half in her mouth made her dry-heave with a "ugh~"
Lys picked up the second bottle of potion, gesturing for Snape not to mind her: "Continue what you were saying—ugh!"
Actually, Snape hadn't actively wanted to discuss this; he was merely answering Starlis's twice-asked question about whether he'd attended the wedding.
But hearing Lys's words, he rarely felt the desire to say something more.
He flicked his wand, slamming the door in Lucius's eavesdropping face, then closed it.
"Why?" A brief, unadorned question that truly exposed Snape's confusion.
Lys struggled with the difficult-to-swallow potion in her mouth. Hearing this, she replayed Snape's words in her mind, her gossip-loving heart immediately ignited.
So... did he like Evans or not?
Struggling to swallow the potion, Lys decided that for the sake of these specially-made potions, she owed Snape an honest response:
"Actually, she never gave up on you, Severus. I think even now she hasn't. She even sent you an invitation—if I didn't misread what was on your desk last time—even though you stand on completely different sides. She still hoped you could appear at the important moments in her life."
Lys opened the third bottle of potion, the intense fishy smell making her unable to resist complaining.
"I originally thought it was Evans's problem—I felt she was somewhat hypocritical with all that evil-versus-good, dark-versus-light magic talk. But later I realized that given her background, she simply had no choice. She's Muggle-born, you know. Don't think Gryffindor was particularly courteous to her—blood prejudice is a problem throughout the magical world. Otherwise, why would being polite to Muggle-borns be something people show off as good breeding?"
Lys shrugged. "None of us have left this swamp."
"And you don't believe others' kindness is permanent, yet you want others to always be good to you, so you try to use power and violence to maintain your sense of security."
"Severus, there's no one and nothing in the world that will always be unconditionally good to you... The goodwill others show you isn't limitless—they equally hope for response and reciprocation. She's been waiting for your response, but you never apologized, and you completely declared your intention to join the Dark Lord's camp that Evans could never touch in her lifetime."
Lys shrugged while holding the potion.
"Now she's reached the best future she could achieve in the wizarding world, invited you to witness it, and you're here asking why she didn't persist in extending her hand to you?"
Before forcing that fishy potion into her mouth, Lys complained: "Severus Snape, don't you have bowtruckles growing in your brain?"
"If you want something, reach out boldly or express it clearly. No one will wait in the same place forever. Severus, you're all too clever and stubborn, which is why you've ruined everything."
Lys finally worked up the courage to pour that intensely fishy potion into her mouth, but couldn't help spitting it all out.
This potion? This was supposed to be a potion?
Lys set down the potion bottle she'd been drinking from, angrily rubbing the ouroboros ring on her hand: "Sn-a-pe! What did you just make me drink!"
A nasal snort full of disdain thoroughly displayed Snape's contempt.
His footsteps faded as the door closed behind him.
Only then did Lys lower some of her magical defenses. For that instant, Lys had felt Snape raise his wand.
So...
Did Snape like Evans... or not?
Lys shook her head. Without the effectiveness-impairing potions, she spread her magic around herself to maintain convenience for daily activities.
Coming to the sitting room to discuss with Lucius, Lys learned about some events during her unconsciousness. The Dark Lord had mentioned Lys, but at that time Lys was still unconscious at Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix had also been sent to check on her.
Such a poor-quality Death Eater greatly displeased the Dark Lord. The Thomas family, who had submitted Lys's name, consequently lost much favor before the Dark Lord.
"A dog that doesn't bite gets poked with a stick—now it's poked its own eye."
Lucius automatically ignored Lys's strange comment and asked his own question. He'd never heard of any Death Eater having such a... brutal experience during Marking.
After all, when Lys had torn apart the Thomas family's dining hall, she'd fought several opponents single-handedly. Even if the opposing wizards were incompetent, it still proved part of her capabilities.
"So that night, why were you in such a sorry state?"
Lys shook her head without saying anything. She couldn't very well say her snake had apparently cursed someone and she'd defied the Dark Lord to protect it—in these clever people's eyes, that would be idiotic behavior.
And the other cause of her vulnerability—the recurrence of her soul injury—Lys didn't plan to mention either.
Seeing Lys didn't want to discuss it, Lucius didn't press the matter. He only asked Lys to stay a few more days to recover, then explained some precautions about Death Eaters and the Dark Mark before having a house-elf send Lys back to her family's study.
When Lys pushed open the study door, carrying the sulking Gagbon, Noah was supporting himself with a cane, practicing walking. Under Senna's potion enhancement, Noah was recovering quickly—now, if he walked slowly with the cane, you could hardly tell anything was wrong.
Upon entering the study, Gagbon's neck and abdominal muscles suddenly contracted, leaping onto the nearby carpet and crawling bit by bit toward his snake nest.
Lys sighed and, following her memory, felt her way to her medicine box, taking out a bottle of soul stabilizer and drinking it while standing in the corner.
The slowly receding silver light before her eyes confirmed Lys's suspicion—this wasn't some second magical awakening.
After confirming the soul stabilizer was effective, Lys hesitated but decided not to drink a second bottle. She'd consumed too many potions in recent days—drinking more might cause unknown conflicts with residual effects.
Noah finally maneuvered his wheelchair over to Lys's side, asking with concern how her arm had been injured and why she'd been away so long.
Given that others were present in the study, Lys didn't answer specifically, merely handling her medicine bottles while saying she'd reassure Noah—this was a problem she could solve.
Senna was constantly rummaging through boxes in the corner, searching for some book, but the five book chests from the Lam family contained a vast ocean of volumes, leaving Senna completely at a loss.
After learning the book classification from the frustrated Senna, Lys found the book within minutes and handed it to her mother.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
🤔 Want to know what happens next to the characters?
🤫 Eager to explore the untold secrets of this world?
✍️ Ready to read more of my wildest stories?
✨patreon.com/DarkGolds