In the middle of the night after everything ended, Lys sent a note home to let her family know she was safe, then stayed at Malfoy Manor.
She helped some masked Death Eaters heal their wounds, but did so with extreme indifference—pouring burning potion onto an unconscious man's injury to force the bleeding to stop. As the room filled with sudden screams, she casually turned to Lucius and said, "Senior, I killed Fenrir Greyback. How do you think I should tell the Lord?"
The list slipped from Lucius's hand, his eyes seeming to freeze in their sockets, only able to shift his gaze by turning his neck.
How? Should? She? Even? Say? That?
She? Still? Dares? To? Say? It?
She? Wants? To? Say? What?
And why was she telling him now?
He still had to report on the afternoon's operation to the Lord—how was he supposed to act shocked about this?!
Lys moistened her dry lips. "I really couldn't hold back." She truly couldn't.
"It... he recognized me, and threatened me with some things. Old and new grudges—I just..." Lys shrugged.
Lucius glanced around the room in bewilderment.
Could he just pretend he hadn't heard this? What a bloody nightmare! How was he supposed to report this?
But as the Dark Lord's current right-hand man, he quickly composed himself. He had to report it, and he had to be honest—the Lord detested lies and concealment above all else, and he'd have to account for battle casualties anyway. There was no hiding it.
He decided to bring it up while the Dark Lord was still in a relatively good mood, having claimed the lives of several sensitive Order of the Phoenix members during today's operation.
After all, Stalys Black—this madwoman—had been following him around lately.
Lucius didn't ask for details. This wasn't his business; his job was simply to report as one of the afternoon's field commanders.
He could only hope Stalys Black was lucky enough—may Merlin preserve her.
Lucius went in to report the operation, mentioning how he'd been pursued by Benjy Fenwick from the Order—partly to explain his own lapses in control, and partly to set up Lys's performance.
The Dark Lord showed a hint of concern for him, since Lucius was currently responsible for many upper-level tasks and Ministry of Magic affairs. A fully intact, undiscovered Lucius was still very important at this stage.
Then Lucius reported the battle casualties—including Fenrir Greyback, killed by Lys.
The Dark Lord was extremely displeased. Extremely.
When Lys entered, she was immediately hit by Crucio and collapsed half-dead at the Dark Lord's feet. But one sentence bought her a brief reprieve from the torture.
"That filthy beast is dead. It's my fault—I took its life without your permission and angered you! But you are the uncrowned king of British wizards—whoever you declare to be the werewolf leader Fenrir Greyback, so it shall be!"
Lys clutched her left arm, bowed her head submissively, and let her hair fall over her face.
Lucius, standing beside the Dark Lord's chair, also bowed his head respectfully. But at those words, his eyebrows twitched slightly.
Sensing the lessening force of the curse, Lys hurried to continue admitting her fault.
"I took a reward you had promised without your prior consent. I hope, Lord, that you can forgive me in light of my enthusiastic performance on the battlefield today."
The Dark Lord looked down with interest at this pathetic creature curled up on the floor—left arm dangling uselessly, seemingly unable to bear even the Dark Mark, apparently somewhat crippled.
No, not crippled—interesting.
"Uncrowned king..."
The phrase seemed to capture the Dark Lord's attention, drawing his thoughts elsewhere.
He twirled his wand between his fingers. "One day, I'll make them all bow their proud heads before me... Dumbledore... my name..."
The rest of his words were too soft for Lys to make out through the ringing in her ears.
But that didn't stop Lys from continuing, "Yes, you will be the master of all." It was a line she'd read in a Muggle book.
But the second half, she kept buried deep in her mind: 'This is the ultimate delusion of all who succeed or fail in their arrogance.'
The agony of Crucio seeped into Lys's very bones, but the potion she'd drunk earlier—specially brewed by Senna for her condition—kept her conscious, even as her breathing faltered and uncontrollable hallucinations threatened to overwhelm her.
At least, for now, she still felt the price she'd paid was worth it.
Worth it.
Even as the Dark Lord raised his wand again: "Crucio."
"Argh!" Even as Lys screamed and collapsed on the carpet, hair disheveled and utterly wretched, it was still worth it.
She clutched the little pouch at her chest, and in a haze, it was as if she were back atop the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts, holding Senna's note and making that silent vow.
All that darkness... she would repay it, double.
By the end, Lys's pleas for forgiveness grew confused and jumbled, and only then did the Dark Lord turn his gaze to Lucius, who was waiting silently to the side.
"What was her name again..." The Dark Lord lazily waved his wand and said to Lucius, "Never mind, it doesn't matter. Keep an eye on her—for your sake, since you're still in one piece."
The Dark Lord could easily see through Lucius's earlier setup, but out of respect for his loyalty and competence, he'd grant him this favor. Still, daring to pull such stunts right under his nose—young people needed to learn what fear meant.
When Lucius used magic to carry Lys out of the room, blood at her lips and half-unconscious, she was barely aware.
Lucius looked down at her with distaste—only to be horrified that she could still manage a smile.
There was still much to be done. And while no one really cared, Stalys Black was a woman, so Lucius had to maintain some propriety. He dumped her in the guest room and asked Narcissa to look after her.
But before he could finish studying the Ministry of Magic announcement, the house-elf Fifi appeared and told him that the mistress and their guest needed his help.
He wondered—last time, after seeing the Lord, Stalys had lain quietly for a month. This time, could something serious happen? "Use the Two-Way Mirror and see if Severus can come over."
Lucius watched Stalys, who was still trying to walk forward even while pressed against the wall, and suspected the Lord'sCrucio had scrambled her brain.
He rubbed his temples. This was his busiest time—he had mountains of work, and the next day or two would require his utmost focus for a crucial Ministry assignment. He really didn't have time to babysit Stalys.
But thinking of her mad ideas and formidable magical power, he didn't dare let his precious wife handle her alone, so he could only hope his junior could at least calm her down, even if he couldn't cure her.
But when Severus Snape arrived—irritated as ever—he had no good solution. Stalys was perfectly obedient, drinking whatever potion she was given, but the most it did was slow her down slightly.
This made Snape, holding his empty potion bottles, doubt his own brewing skills once again.
Finally, Snape lost patience and suggested Lucius use the Imperius Curse to force her to rest. "No side effects, and it'd be good practice for you, wouldn't it?" he sneered, mocking Lucius's embarrassing performance in the operation due to his limited combat skills.
The Imperius Curse—one of the three Unforgivable Curses—its only effect was to control someone to obey the caster's commands. The most harmless yet most terrifying of the Unforgivable Curses.
Lucius's mouth twitched as he struggled not to lose his composure in front of dear Narcissa.
He raised his elm wand and attempted "Imperio" twice. The spell was reasonably successful—though strong-willed people had some resistance, no one could claim Lys's current state was normal.
But while Lys stopped miming the action of flipping through books, she didn't go to bed as Lucius had commanded.
Instead, her entire demeanor suddenly turned dark and volatile.
She spun around, faced Snape, and with a burst of fury, grabbed his hair and yanked hard—catching him completely off guard and nearly knocking him over. She even drove her knee viciously into his side.
"Sev-er-us Sna-pe! You saw someone stealing my things and didn't even help!"
"Narcissa, senior! Shining Narcissa, hmph hmph~ I remember those coins of yours." When she saw Narcissa, her smile grew even wider.
Then she turned to Lucius and his now-lowered, gleaming wand. "Lucius, senior! Your wand! Let me touch it!"
Her greedy gaze swept over everything in sight. She even rolled up her left sleeve and bracer right in front of the three, running her fingers over the swollen, scarred marks on her arm.
Then she rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a small leather pouch.
The Malfoys stared in complete confusion—had she... gone mad?
Snape, clutching his scalp and side, was stunned. When had he ever failed to help her when someone was stealing her things? And how dare she yank his hair like that!
But when she pulled a handful of bloody teeth from the pouch and sat on the floor, playing with them like precious toys, her scattered gaze settled considerably.
Nothing else in the room deserved even a glance. She held up a bloodstained canine tooth, examining it under the bright light.
"I did so well, Stalys, Lys..." A strange, self-congratulatory smile curled her lips. "I can do it... Yes... Throw it all back at them..." She seemed to catch herself, glancing at the three people by the door, and swallowed the rest of her words.
A hint of struggle and confusion flickered across her face before her expression gradually went blank. She clutched the tooth and lay back down, even tidying her blanket.
It seemed Snape's potion was finally taking effect, and Lucius's spell was working too.
With Stalys finally quiet, Snape—clutching his stomach and staring blankly at the clump of hair in his palm—stormed out in a rage. Lucius and Narcissa exchanged odd looks, gave the house-elf instructions, and left together.
The house-elf could only tremble as it looked at the pile of terrifying teeth on the floor, doing its best to care for its master's important guest.
Lys woke up on the third morning, back to normal, and told the elf to ask Lucius for more of Snape's special sedative.
"It hurts so much—I feel like there's a knife stirring in my head..." she groaned, leaning against the headboard.
Something was poking her in bed. Lys reached down and found a tooth. Her first reaction was to run her tongue over her own teeth—checking that they were all still there—then felt for the small pouch at her chest.
Narcissa knocked and entered with the potion, just in time to see Lys leap from the bed and land on the carpet, hurriedly gathering up all the teeth and counting them one by one.
Only then did she struggle back into bed, clutching the pouch tightly.
"Senior, sorry to trouble you."
Narcissa shook her head slightly, simply expressing her gratitude to Lys for helping Lucius escape from Fenwick's pursuit.
It was important—very important.
Even if most people suspected Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater, as long as there was no proof, the Malfoy family's voice could still be seen as nothing more than a noble's concern for tradition and the future.
Other noble members of the Ministry of Magic could openly support Lucius's statements and proposals, gaining more benefits while conveniently ignoring the Dark Lord's own gains.
But the most crucial thing was that there must be no direct evidence proving that Lucius, who maintained such good relations with them, was working for the Dark Lord.
Only with such noble connections and political acumen did Lucius remain valuable to the Dark Lord and worthy of his trust.
Lys's head was pounding—she didn't have the mental capacity to process Narcissa's carefully chosen words.
She just hummed in response.
Narcissa noticed Lys's discomfort and simply left the sedative by her bedside before leaving.
Lys's injuries were too severe—she could slip into brief hallucinations at any moment and act strangely.
Because the potion dosage had to be carefully controlled, even Snape had no good solution. The effects of Unforgivable Curses couldn't be treated at St. Mungo's, and the black-market healers they'd called in weren't even as skilled as Lys herself...
As for that old witch with her bizarre methods—Lys was terrified of her. Even the faintest trace of her presence would have Lys screaming for the house-elf to throw her out immediately!
But Lys didn't seem too bothered by these injuries. Day by day, her condition was improving.
At Lys's insistence, Snape finally took her by Apparition to the reading room—he had some questions about Wolfsbane Potion research he wanted to discuss with Stalys's mother.
Walking through Malfoy Manor, Snape mocked Lys's reckless behavior.
Lys replied:
"Thank you for your concern and advice, Severus. But after weighing everything, I believe what I gained from killing him far outweighs any punishment that doesn't threaten my life or family."
"This was something very important to me, and I was willing to pay this price!"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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