The fabricated scene she'd spun crumbled under the crushing force of that powerful magic, riddled with holes—but the Dark Lord believed it anyway...
How bloody confident was he? And how incredibly lucky was she?
Still, Lys managed to suppress that flicker of amusement. Ever since that man—Menelquede Karkaroff—had caught her slipping up last time, she'd learned her lesson: if you're going to put on an act, do it properly. There's no harm in being thorough.
She roughly wiped the blood from her ears and nose with her suit sleeve, then bossed around the Malfoy house-elf without ceremony.
"Fifi! Bring me a towel!"
Lucius was still standing there, lost in thought, trying to decipher the Dark Lord's intentions. Regulus, however, stepped forward and took Lys by the arm, helping her to a chair. When he saw she couldn't even sit upright and kept sliding down, he used Transfiguration to convert the chair into a sofa so she could curl up properly.
He gave Lucius a meaningful look and departed. The youngest Lestrange and two others seemed eager to linger for the spectacle, but Goyle, who worked for the Malfoys, ushered them out.
For a moment, the great hall contained only Lucius and Lys. Upstairs, Narcissa, having received word from the house-elf, emerged and stood on the spiral staircase, peering down.
Lucius quickly reassured his anxious wife: "Nothing serious—the Dark Lord had some questions and everyone's dispersed now. Don't worry yourself, go back and rest."
Narcissa glanced at Stalys sprawled on the sofa in the center of the hall, thinking she seemed different today—she hadn't even looked up to offer a greeting. But given Lucius's insistence that she rest, Narcissa hesitantly returned to her room.
After Fifi escorted Narcissa back, she prepared a hot towel and other necessities, pressing them into Lys's hands.
Ever since Lys had dumped that pile of teeth out last time, Fifi had been rather wary of her.
But Lys had no energy to tend to herself. She flung the towel back at Lucius. "A few more sessions like this and I'll be brain-dead!"
"Shh! Keep it down—Cissy hasn't gone to sleep yet!"
Bloody hell, just because you're having a son doesn't mean you can't see I can barely sit upright!
In truth, Lucius was rather panicked, though he tried not to show it. At least Stalys still had enough strength to order his house-elf about—perhaps this wasn't as severe as the previous incidents.
After all, last time Lys had been unconscious for a fortnight, and the time before that she'd nearly lost her mind entirely...
Lucius asked what Lys needed. She simply requested a room and said nothing more, declining even when Lucius offered to summon Severus.
"Severus, Severus... He's practically your family's personal Potions Master now." Lys staggered into the guest room she'd used previously, instructed Lucius not to disturb her, and had him close the door.
There truly wasn't any major issue this time. Having her memories forcibly ransacked and attempting to fabricate details in unfamiliar territory had simply pushed her to her limits. The magical backlash was what caused the nosebleed and bleeding ears.
It looked alarming, but rest was all she needed.
After mastering Occlumency, Lys discovered one tremendous benefit: no more nightmares.
No more visions of Prewett atop that platform surrounded by corpses, or Ravenie Bones, or the Dark Lord's crimson eyes snapping open during her most vulnerable moments. She could finally sleep peacefully.
Sinking into the soft bed, Lys closed her eyes.
Survived another day. That's something...
Lys sat alone at the Malfoy dining table, eating a belated breakfast while waiting for Lucius to arrange transport home. Yesterday's injury wasn't severe, but that level of trauma didn't heal overnight.
Attempting to Apparate herself would risk Splinching.
She was still eating when a contemptuous laugh echoed from the entrance. "What's this? My dear brother-in-law isn't pleased to see me visit my little sister?"
But clearly, the visitor's true target wasn't the "little sister" she mentioned. The moment Lys stepped out of the dining room, Bellatrix's eyes locked onto her.
Lys felt inexplicably unsettled and glanced at Lucius questioningly.
Lucius, exasperated, attempted to explain—Bellatrix could be genuinely difficult when she was in one of her moods.
But Bellatrix ignored his words entirely, positioning herself directly in front of Lys and studying her from head to toe.
Her scrutinizing gaze made Lucius's expression darken further.
After last night's events, the Malfoy-Thomas feud was now public knowledge. He had plenty to handle without this madwoman stirring up additional trouble. As an intelligent man, Lucius knew exactly what Bellatrix was thinking from that look.
"The Dark Lord isn't impressed by her abilities, so he stationed her here as my assistant. That recent Thomas business—I sent her to handle it. The Dark Lord was merely annoyed that I disrupted the Thomas finances, but he showed me consideration and didn't target me directly."
Bellatrix eyed Lucius suspiciously. Thomas? The Dark Lord had indeed been paying attention to that family's affairs lately.
She gave Lys another disdainful once-over. "Heh... I remember you. Back in Diagon Alley, your brains and abilities weren't nearly as pathetic as you're pretending now... Don't let me catch you in a lie..." With a cold laugh, Bellatrix ascended the spiral stairs while Lys remained expressionless.
Standing on the staircase with arms crossed, Bellatrix cast another sideways glance at Lys from the corner of her eye.
A weak little nobody wouldn't merit personal questioning from the Dark Lord. She's definitely hiding something!
I'll be watching her closely...
Lucius rubbed his temples. "Stalys, come to the study with me. There are several matters I need to clarify with you."
Lys gave her usual responses: you arranged the access route, I gave you everything, you watched me empty the Nifflers' pouches, you handled the disposal, I don't know, I'm clueless, you heard what the Dark Lord asked.
Getting nowhere with his inquiries, Lucius agreed to Lys's request to send her back to the reading room, warning only that the Thomas family might cause trouble for her family after this incident.
The sudden surge of Lys's aura made Lucius shiver, but he could only cough awkwardly and attempt reassurance: "It shouldn't be too severe. The Lord said nothing directly, and I'll keep watch."
Lys didn't respond, merely urged him to hurry and get her home.
Subsequently, Lys spent her days quietly practicing Occlumency and crafting alchemical items. When materials ran low, she'd examine the prosthetics Lucius had given her as payment.
When boredom struck, she'd tinker with her wands. The hawthorn wand still wore its oak casing—initially she couldn't remove it, but later she couldn't bear to. This way, all three wands carried her mother's craftsmanship.
There was also the blackthorn wand, its Fiendfyre-modified enchantments reinforced by Dumbledore himself. Lys was constantly amazed by Dumbledore's magical finesse—the old man had added restriction charms to it...
Her willow wand had once been tainted by unicorn blood, leaving a silvery sheen she couldn't conceal no matter how many times she refinished the surface. Eventually, she simply gave up trying.
For over a fortnight, Lys didn't venture out, worried that the Thomases might indeed retaliate as Lucius had warned.
One day, Senna sent her to purchase wine. Lys planned to simply pop over to that corner pub in Diagon Alley for a quick errand, but Senna specifically requested the wine Lys had obtained from Lucius's shady Knockturn Alley establishment last time...
So LysApparated to the bar as swiftly as possible. The bartender-owner, hearing her request, jerked his chin toward a corner table. "See that bloke? It's all on his table."
Lys checked Senna's list and had the owner pack the remaining bottles.
She strode toward the man sitting with his back to her in the corner. Behind her, the owner called out pleadingly: "No fighting, yeah? I can't repair what you lot break..."
Lys waved dismissively and glanced sideways—an old acquaintance.
"Severus, didn't you say drinking damages your brain and tongue, interfering with potion-making? Why are you drinking now?"
She noted only one empty bottle on the table—nothing too serious. "Share a few bottles with me."
But as it turned out, Snape couldn't hold his liquor. By the time he looked up from the small white flower in his hands, Lys hastily pulled up his hood—his large black eyes were already watery...
Lys glanced around to ensure no one dared gawk at their drama, then grabbed Snape by the scruff and hauled him upright.
"Stalys, did I truly do something wrong?" Lys's head throbbed. She signaled the owner to hurry with the packing, then dragged Snape outside to Apparate home.
She had no time for Knockturn Alley arguments—too many eyes and ears. A Death Eater lamenting his failure to court a—ahem—Muggle-born, even with prior clearance, was hardly appropriate.
Moreover, Lys didn't want to leave Senna and Noah alone too long. Wizarding conflicts could end instantly—a single curse could determine everything.
Seeing his daughter return with wine for his wife—plus a man reeking of alcohol—Noah's eyes lit up with interest.
He hurried forward with his walking stick, but upon recognizing Snape, his mouth twisted in annoyance. Senna simply laughed at her husband's expression.
Lys deposited Snape on the floor and asked Senna what was so amusing, but Senna ignored her, extracting a bottle from the bag for herself.
Lys began regretting her intervention the moment Snape called her name, but with him now in the reading room, what choice did she have?
She tossed him onto a cushion pile and left him to bury his face, but within minutes Snape was groping for another bottle.
"She's pregnant... ugh... Lily's having a baby!"
Snape, draped entirely in black robes, his shoulder-length hair disheveled, pale face flushed with drink and dark eyes misty, curled up clutching a bottle—he looked utterly fragile and broken.
This was Lys's first encounter with Snape's drunken sobbing, and she... panicked completely.
Hearing the crying, Senna emerged with her own bottle, curious: "What's happened?"
Seeing Snape drinking morosely, Lys decided to recount everything she'd known about Snape and Lily Evans since first year.
When she reached fifth year—the incident under the beech tree where Snape called Evans a "Mudblood"—Senna and Noah both gasped in shock.
Senna took a swig and crunched a nut decisively: "I guarantee it! Those two are finished!"
That statement seemed to strike a nerve. Snape, hearing this, suddenly grabbed Gabon. Lys tried to rescue Gabon, but the story remained unfinished—Senna was tugging at Lys's shoulder, urging her to continue, while Snape clung to Gabon's tail, demanding: "Finished? Really finished?"
Gabon, frustrated by his captivity, kept emitting weak petrification magic pulses, but they were too feeble to affect Snape.
Seeing no immediate danger, Lys sacrificed Gabon temporarily and continued the tale for Senna and Noah—Snape's family background, leading up to his request for Evans as a reward from the Dark Lord.
Senna swallowed her nuts and rinsed with wine: "So the girl he loves had no choice, but he still chose a path she could never accept. Is that the gist?"
Noah grabbed a handful of nuts: "Well then, Little Star, if those two are truly finished, are you interested in him?"
Lys was stunned. "What?! Him? I'm not interested." She glanced at the usually proud and difficult man—now, after just one bottle, he was drunk and sobbing over a snake.
Better not...
Lys was shaking her head, attempting to explain to Noah, when suddenly glass shattered. Snape, hunched over Gabon, collapsed.
All three Blacks looked over—Snape showed clear signs of petrification, his teary eyes still somewhat dazed.
Lys seized the opportunity to reclaim Gabon, noticing the small vial of compressed magic crystal that had hung from Gabon's collar was now shattered.
After checking him over, Lys ignored the still-rigid Snape and excitedly shared her discovery with Noah—Gabon had learned to utilize the crystals to enhance his petrification power!
Delighted, Lys grabbed Snape's stiff sleeve and thanked him repeatedly.
Eventually, Noah took pity and reversed Snape's petrification, though the effect seemed imperfect.
Senna watched Snape's still-awkward movements as he reached for another bottle, finally pouring some of the powerful Mandrake restorative Lys had been drinking into his glass. Only then did Snape return to normal.
Senna and Noah discussed Snape's romantic approach, calling it rather melodramatic. Growing animated in their conversation, the couple abandoned the drunken Snape and Gabon-cuddling Lys to reminisce privately in their room.
After her excitement subsided, Lys realized her parents had retired and no one remained to share her joy. She grabbed a bottle and began drinking with Snape, the two engaging in cross-purpose conversation.
"Come on, that's only two bottles!" Lys's eyes sparkled as she lifted Snape's arm, forcing more wine down his throat.
She clinked her own bottle—held in her braced, stiff left hand—against his.
"Gabon's improved! He'll live for years! The pet shop owner said he might even outlive me!"
"I must maintain control of my power. I've come this far..."
"I'm telling you, from today I'm saving magic crystals for him—before I die, I'll leave Gabon an entire roomful!"
"Useless pity belongs in the rubbish bin! Ugh... I will obtain even greater power from the Dark Lord."
Lys impatiently drained her bottle, then stuffed nuts into Snape's mouth. "If you can't handle it, don't drink—look, you're crying."
But at the word "crying," Snape suddenly straightened. "Crying? I'm not crying. Crying's useless—even if I cried, Father wouldn't spare me... Lily..."
Lys opened fresh bottles for both of them, clinked glasses, and forced Snape to take another large gulp... Anything to stop the tears.
She dragged the collapsed Snape onto the Transfigured sofa, then leaned against the wall—behind which her deadly secret lay hidden—clutching her fourth bottle.
With delayed responses, she answered Snape's rambling:
"Right, crying's useless. So is fear. Once you're exposed, there's no mercy. Get some sleep... You survived another day, didn't you?"
The light in Lys's eyes rapidly faded as she activated Occlumency—leaving only cold ashes behind.
Close your eyes and you'll have a peaceful, dreamless night...
Don't be afraid. This will pass.
Sleep. Once you're asleep, the night will end.
No matter where the moon rises, it always sets eventually, doesn't it?
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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