Lucius caught up to her, continuing their earlier conversation.
The two sat on the study's sofa as Lucius spoke about his current situation. With the Thomas family gradually losing favor in the Lord's eyes...
"Losing favor? Just because they pushed me forward?" Lys couldn't hide her confusion. Was the Dark Lord already this harsh?
She thought to herself—even after killing someone on their own side, she hadn't faced any serious consequences.
"It's not just that. What happened with you was merely a small slip that revealed his disrespectful attitude. Old Thomas still fancies himself the Lord's collaborator, but..."
As he spoke, Lucius's gaze drifted to a portrait in the corner before returning. "Never mind, let's get back to my situation. Now that the Thomases have lost ground, I'm the only one still benefiting from those public tasks in the Lord's presence, which has brought me some unwelcome jealousy and scheming."
He gestured for Lys to examine the documents he handed over. They briefly outlined families and individuals whose interests overlapped with the Malfoys—Lys could tell this was only the tip of the iceberg.
She glanced through them, signaling for Lucius to continue.
"During the last operation, I nearly exposed myself because of this. The fact that I can still sit here safely is thanks to your help, junior. That brings me to what I wanted to discuss."
Lucius's expression grew serious.
"There's an upcoming operation. I can't reveal the details yet, but I can guarantee the Lord won't be participating directly. I want you to accompany me—to ensure my safety."
Lucius knew the people he'd previously recruited were no longer trustworthy; he needed fresh protection.
Lys munched on a biscuit, brushing the crumbs off the documents without caring about Lucius's exasperation. Picking up her teacup, she took a sip and reluctantly nodded. "Fine, but I'm only following you. I won't take action unless absolutely necessary, agreed?"
"Haven't you already... Mm, very well." Lucius almost asked if she hadn't already killed someone, but thought better of it and simply agreed. After all, when push came to shove, who could predict what might happen?
Truthfully, Lys didn't want to go. She preferred to wander about unnoticed—operations were unpredictable, and knowing Lucius's character, if the stakes were high enough, he might just sell her out.
But sometimes, when you depend on someone, you have to accommodate their less unreasonable requests.
Lucius was satisfied with Lys's response. As they sealed their agreement, he reminded her: at the Karkaroff-Dolohov wedding, she must keep a low profile—both in dress and behavior. She'd always been careless about etiquette and appearance, never once dressing appropriately.
He hadn't forgotten the Lestrange family's mention of the Lord's supposed plans for Death Eater marriages—though it sounded like nonsense to him.
Still, better safe than sorry. After all, Lys carried Black family blood. If this ever became reality, she'd be a candidate the moment they opened the Black family registry.
Lys was puzzled but said nothing. Her style had always been casual, and Noah never minded—if she wanted suits and trousers, he simply bought them.
Lucius said he'd handle her outfit this time, so Lys didn't worry about it.
She also took some unfinished alchemical items Lucius had brought—gifts from a French alchemy prodigy in exchange for British materials that were now difficult to export.
Lucius had no use for them; he found prosthetics inelegant, and as half-finished products, he couldn't find anyone to complete them. So he simply gave them to Lys.
Back in the reading room, Lys sensed a strange magical fluctuation—chaotic, intermittent, elusive.
She searched every corner, even using war warding spells and Specialis Revelio, and pulled out several alchemical items that would scream upon sensing hostility.
Still nothing. So she flooded the entire reading room with her magic to scan again.
Senna impatiently shoved her aside, complaining that Lys's magic had disrupted her cauldron.
Lys had no choice but to stop.
Noah said that from when Lys left until she returned, nothing had happened—not even visitors. He asked if she'd noticed something unusual.
Lys said she felt an unfamiliar magical presence in the room.
Noah pondered but was stumped. Still, he joined Lys in searching.
As the two rummaged around, Senna smacked each of them on the back of the head—her potion had been slightly ruined by all the wild magic.
Though Lys returned to her corner to tinker with the alchemical prototypes, she kept glancing around. The magical presence persisted, meaning something was still in the reading room.
Thinking of Dumbledore's Transfiguration, Potter's Invisibility Cloak, and the odd creatures in the Forbidden Forest, Lys got up in the middle of the night to search again.
The next day, Senna and Noah were amazed to see Gabon no longer avoiding Lys. The snake was back on her shoulder, even resting its head lazily atop her hair.
Lys looked rather overwhelmed by the attention.
"Dad! Gabon can petrify now!" Lys pulled her left hand from its protective gear—the petrification magic was weak but clearly affecting her.
Noah hadn't even processed this before Senna, eyes bright with anticipation, asked, "Has it become a magical creat—being?"
Lys hesitated, mouth half-open, unsure how to refuse her mother's obvious interest in harvesting materials from Gabon.
But Noah intervened, giving Senna a mildly reproachful look and shaking his head.
Senna blinked in confusion, then looked incredulous, pointing at Noah:
She only wanted some shed skin and venom! She wasn't mad enough to toss their family pet into her cauldron!
With Gabon's weight on her shoulders, Lys watched Noah apologize to Senna. She'd witnessed her parents' affectionate moments before, but this one—with her mother calling Gabon "our family pet"—gave her a rare sense of security.
Lys gently pulled Gabon's head down to examine its eyes—still clear as amber—and wondered what magical creature its bloodline came from.
Petrification? She searched her memory but couldn't recall any magical snake with that ability.
Leaving her parents to their tender bickering, Lys took Gabon to the pet shop in Diagon Alley, but the owner was equally puzzled.
Cases like this were so rare he couldn't determine whether Gabon's petrification ability came from its bloodline or developed during domestication.
Though she got no answers, the shopkeeper did assure Lys:
"Congratulations! Magical snakes live far longer than ordinary ones. With luck, even a century from now—after we've all gone to see Merlin—this little chubby snake will still be in its prime."
This made Lys worry about whether Gabon would be able to hunt and survive on its own after she was gone.
She left a small bag of Galleons and took home freshly arrived Congo Lightning Bats. With current tensions, imports were increasingly expensive—though Lys's smuggled goods were fetching higher prices too.
Standing on the street, Lys took a deep breath. She still wasn't strong enough—just taking Gabon out left her exhausted.
Back home, Senna grumbled about the bats, but seeing Noah and Lys rearrange bookshelves while noisily directing Gabon's hunting, she sighed and moved her cauldron aside.
When Severus Snape arrived, he encountered a bizarre scene: the once-pristine reading room now had crooked bookshelves everywhere, with swift black shadows darting through the air.
Two people and a snake dashed about the floor, and Mr. Black even managed to knock things over with his unsteady legs.
His intended conversation partner could only huddle in a corner brewing potions...
Really now...
But seeing Stalys with a sweet in her mouth, sweat on her brow and eyes shining with delight, made the muscles beneath Snape's eyes twitch violently.
Honestly, what kind of brain did she have to find such joy in chasing bats? And this person was a Death Eater?
What a bloody joke! For a moment, he felt the Death Eater title had been utterly degraded.
"Mrs. Black, I wonder if this is a convenient time..." He petrified a bat that flew into him. "To discuss the Italian potion theories you mentioned in your letter?"
Lys, quick on the uptake, used bookshelves to create a barrier around them.
Listening to Mr. Black and Stalys's cheers outside, punctuated by snake hisses and startled bat squeaks, Snape and the slightly exasperated Senna exchanged glances and immersed themselves in the world of potions.
A few days later, Lys sat in the Malfoy family's ostentatious carriage, tugging at the outfit Lucius had insisted she wear, her expression impatient.
Lucius sternly instructed her to avoid unnecessary expressions or movements, and not to speak.
He also cautioned her to stay alert on the return journey.
"Then why take a carriage? Why not just Apparate?"
"It's about making a statement. You wouldn't understand—this demonstrates that our bill proposal is above reproach..." Lucius went on with his walking stick, but Lys didn't follow a word.
Leaving the Ministry's grandest conference hall, Lys could only think with contempt:
A bill proposal above reproach?
Bloody hypocrite.
At the meeting, led by the Black family—one of Hogwarts' board of governors—a proposal was put forward: henceforth, Hogwarts admissions would be reviewed by the board families.
Ostensibly to prevent mediocre children from mixed backgrounds and their families from making poor decisions, unable to resist the allure of Hogwarts being "the finest school," instead of choosing practical workshop apprenticeships.
The supposed result: graduates unable to find employment sufficient to support their families.
The reasoning sounded noble, but it was pure class warfare—solidifying hierarchy by placing total control over entry into the wizarding world in the hands of upper-class purebloods.
Under Dumbledore's piercing gaze, the Malfoy family seconded the motion, followed by a handful of others.
Bloody hypocrites.
On the carriage ride home, Lucius was tense, but Lys just regarded him with faint mockery.
When protesters actually caught up to attack them, she half-heartedly waved her wand a few times—only seriously protecting Lucius, caring little about the rest. The hastily organized, relatively weak protest left the Malfoy carriage missing its roof, a wheel, and a winged horse.
When Lucius expressed displeasure, Lys simply looked up and said quietly, "You'd never have sent me a Hogwarts acceptance letter."
Lucius instantly understood and fell silent.
He'd been careless.
"This was the Lord's will as well."
Lys didn't care whose idea it was. She just marveled that whether it was Grindelwald's grand vision or the title this Lord accepted—both called "Dark Lords"—their philosophies were so different.
Both targeted Muggles.
One sought to unite all wizarding power to break their chains; the other divided wizardkind to ensure bloodline purification proceeded unopposed.
She shrugged and left Malfoy Manor. She didn't return until just before the Dolohov-Karkaroff wedding.
Looking at the simple black gown before her, Lys glanced at Narcissa for confirmation—was this really meant for her?
"Yes, I thought you'd want to keep a low profile, wouldn't you?"
But once Lys had changed into the dress and matching accessories, Narcissa regretted her choice.
Lys's already tall frame, accentuated by heels, became even more striking. Her mixed heritage lent an indefinable allure to her features, half-hidden beneath wavy, rust-colored hair.
Though somewhat thin, the slight forward tilt of Lys's shoulders gave the plain black dress a sharp, distinctive edge.
And this was before styling her hair or applying makeup...
Narcissa was taken aback—she'd always seen Lys as disheveled and graceless, forever slouched on sofas with a snake draped around her.
When Lucius asked her to make Stalys Black as inconspicuous as possible, this utterly plain dress had been Narcissa's first choice.
She hadn't expected her junior to possess this side.
Fortunately, considering that Lys might have deeper reasons for avoiding women's clothing, she'd also prepared a simple suit as backup.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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