Already troubled by recent operations and the aftereffects of taking lives, Lys was approached by Regulus again. "I'll help you get Bellatrix off your back, if you help me..."
In an instant—not even enough time for suspicion—Lys exploded with fury, raising her wand. "You're the one who made her notice me?!"
She rapidly fired off two attack spells. Regulus hadn't expected Stalys to lash out so suddenly.
He dodged quickly while denying it: "I didn't! I just removed part of the concealment I'd been providing you. As long as you help me, I can restore that protection so Bellatrix can't see you!"
But if Lys had known from the start that Bellatrix was targeting her, she could have handled it herself. Regulus had concealed this fact, then suddenly withdrawn his help, leaving Lys temporarily helpless and forcing her to become stained with blood that had nothing to do with her, dragging her deeper into this organization... Lys hated clever people even more now!
Lys's frustrated magic shattered the table in front of Regulus. Seeing his scratched face, she thought: I hate clever people, hate those who constantly scheme to manipulate and use me!
Gabon's slow, crawling comfort helped her suppress her temper. Those silent, imperceptible effects on her soul made her anger increasingly uncontrollable—she constantly wanted to draw her wand and fight.
After being forced by Bellatrix in that recent operation to raise her wand and take completely unrelated lives, this condition had worsened significantly.
"Tell me the reason. I need to know what kind of response I'm making, how much risk I'm taking." Lys rubbed Gabon against her face.
"I can't say, and right now it's just my speculation."
"You can't say?" Lys nearly laughed. "Ha! You want my help—though I don't know the specifics, just from what you said on that beach, could it have nothing to do with the Dark—"
Lys cut herself off, casting an Anti-Eavesdropping Charm. "Could it have nothing to do with him? My traces appearing around you—do you think I'll escape involvement? Are you too naive?"
"From the moment you brought me to that beach, I had no choice, didn't I? People like you who only know how to drag others into your needs are truly, extremely annoying."
Regulus paused but still ignored Lys's accusations, telling her nothing.
"I can't say, but trust me—I also hope this world allows capable people to find their proper places, to have a better future. Perhaps I've done wrong before, now, or will in the future, but I'm very clear-headed."
Clear-headed? Lys looked mockingly at Regulus. Was he really clear-headed?
"If you won't tell me, I won't help." Lys was firm.
"I only feel fear toward the Dark Lord—both his methods and his power." Lys made her position clear.
She had to know the seriousness of the situation. If it might involve life and family, she'd rather be Bellatrix's thorn in the eye—she believed she had the ability to solve that, just needed time.
Now it was just weighing gains and losses between helping or not. After all, if she didn't help and solved Bellatrix herself, she might still have to avoid Regulus's manipulations.
"I can't say."
"Then get out!"
Under Lys's spell, Regulus couldn't dodge at all—he was rigidly thrown out of the reading room by Lys.
Noah, carrying a half-finished dragon-hide windbreaker, looked over worriedly but was brushed off by Lys again.
Carrying the leather, Noah sighed—the child had grown up, finally daring to lose her temper. Those previous years of suppressed, aggrieved behavior had made him feel guilty and uncomfortable.
Recently, a wildly arrogant, extreme figure had appeared in the Death Eater ranks, comparable to Bellatrix.
Perhaps feeling her title as most loyal subordinate was threatened, Bellatrix's attention was finally diverted.
Lys no longer had to be watched and forced to participate in those suffocating activities.
In the reading room, Lys hugged a bottle of wine against the wall corner and suddenly let out a cold laugh, drawing Senna's attention. The little lunatic had been drinking for several days, clutching her bottle whether awake or asleep.
"Come help me process these materials." She didn't know what else to do, only hoping to keep Lys's hands busy so she'd have no time to lift the bottle.
"Have you learned the Patronus Charm?" Senna made small talk.
She'd already planned what to say when Lys said she hadn't learned it, but unexpectedly, Lys nodded.
Senna was confused—wasn't it said that only those with constant light in their hearts could learn this? Hadn't this little lunatic killed people? Wasn't her soul damaged? Even her arm had been broken for a year...
Perhaps Senna's surprise was too obvious. Lys stepped back twice and raised her blackthorn wand—
"Expecto Patronum."
From the silver mist burst a huge silverback gorilla, swinging through the bookshelves, leaving trails of silver light. It jumped onto Noah's tailoring table, pounded its chest vigorously, then picked its nose with a finger and popped it in its mouth.
Noah stared blankly. "What... what is that?"
Senna answered dazedly, "A gorilla... I think."
Then she burst into uncontrollable wild laughter. "Hahahaha, you actually—hahaha—you actually conjured a gorilla! Hahahaha..." Senna dropped her stirring rod, one hand clutching her stomach, the other pointing at Lys. "Hahaha, you really made a gorilla, hahahaha..."
Lys grinned foolishly too. "Hehe."
Only Noah looked bewildered at the Patronus sucking its finger. When the huge silver gorilla tried to pat his head, Noah instinctively dodged—it had just picked its nose...
The silverback gorilla pouted, bared its upper lip at Noah, then dissipated.
Senna laughed even harder and couldn't stop. Noah stared at where the silverback had vanished, speechless for a long time.
His lips moved, but he couldn't say a word. He'd once heard the theory that a Patronus reflected a wizard's inner nature.
Noah looked at Lys—so this child wasn't as steady as she appeared?
Noah and Lys had completely different thoughts initially.
But Senna's laughter was too infectious—Noah couldn't help laughing too.
This only ended when Senna's cauldron started hissing.
After laughing, Lys felt somewhat relaxed. She increased her soul stabilizer dosage and actively sought out Regulus.
Since she'd already appeared in his affairs, she needed to grasp the situation and circumstances—she couldn't let cowardice leave her ignorant when death came knocking.
Besides, the more she knew, the more she might be able to do. Lys really didn't want to spend her life constantly guarding against others' targeting and manipulation, living helplessly.
When the appointed time came, Regulus was busy discussing the Noble Bloodline Protection Act with those Germans and couldn't get away.
Lys sat in the Black family study, casually flipping through books while waiting for Regulus to finish. Turning around, she saw Walburga Black enter. She naturally ordered the house-elf Kreacher to prepare refreshments, ignoring Lys's direct stare at her shoulder as she sat down.
"Did you send Old Thomas away?"
Lys raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"
Walburga ignored Lys's counter-question: "That fool never imagined the person he used would have such patient murderous intent."
Lys shook her head. "I didn't kill anyone—don't just say that. Mrs. Thomas said Old Thomas committed suicide."
Regardless of whether Walburga was certain, Lys insisted it had nothing to do with her.
Walburga snorted dismissively. "No need to keep staring—it's treated, but not completely healed."
Lys turned back, shoving the book in her hands back onto the shelf with a mocking smile, but when she turned around again, she showed nothing, her eyes instead revealing indifference. "No need to test me. Regulus and I get along well—I'm here because he has business with me."
"Besides, your sons... are all performing quite well, aren't they?" Lys deliberately paused before speaking.
Walburga's face darkened as a smile appeared on Lys's.
Walburga had been proud all her life—except for the Dark Lord, she'd never bowed to anyone. But now things were different. Half her social circle was secretly spreading word that Stalys Black was about to become the Dark Lord's new blade, replacing Thomas.
After all, the Dark Lord had just condemned Thomas, and immediately after, news spread of Stalys eliminating Old Thomas. Nearly every aspect of the affair bore Stalys's fingerprints.
Who wouldn't be nervous at such a time? Especially when this damned Stalys had specifically emphasized that bloodline she'd sent away.
Walburga had no choice but to seriously consider Lys's intentions.
When Regulus finished his business and entered the study, he found Stalys and his mother in a tense standoff.
He sighed, first soothing his mother and leading her out. Before leaving, Walburga warned Regulus: "She's not as clever as you, but when she acts, she has a streak of madness. Watch her reactions carefully."
Walburga opened her mouth as if to say more but held back. She had to let go—her previous decisions had put the Black family in this predicament. Now, she could only hope Regulus's loyalty would satisfy him...
She straightened her spine and headed for the family records room.
In the study, Regulus rubbed his brow before leading Lys away from Black Manor.
It was already late. Lys, wrapped in a fur cloak, braced against the cold wind on the beach.
She shook her head at Regulus, showing him the amber tablet in her hand, indicating it couldn't achieve what he hoped.
"If you want to break through one barrier into an even stronger restricted area, you'd need at least eighty to ninety tablets. But if you want to appear precisely at the target location, you'd need at least one hundred fifty."
That many tablets would require Lys to carve nonstop for at least half a year.
Regulus looked at the scattered amber tablet fragments on the ground after his personal test, visibly deflated.
But he still stopped Lys. "If that won't work, could you help me examine something else?"
"What are these things... related to?"
Lys seized the opportunity to ask: "If you don't tell me, won't I guess when I help you? You said I can handle almost anything—if I know in advance, I might have ideas for solutions, right?"
Regulus looked at Lys's stable emotions and gave a self-mocking laugh.
He raised his finger again, pointing in a direction: "There's a natural cave surrounded by seawater." Regulus unconsciously swallowed. "The sea leading there is filled with Inferi made from Muggle and wizard corpses, and there are unknown restrictions on the water's surface. You can only reach that cave by boat, and only then will those Inferi remain unresponsive."
Regulus licked his lips hesitantly: "And inside that cave is what I want you to help me confirm."
"So why... does that boat also have restrictions?" Lys quickly caught on.
"It can only carry one wizard. And there are prohibitions—you can't fly there, and you can't touch the water. Especially not the water, or it triggers the Inferi's frenzied attacks."
"You've been there?"
"I have, but I..." Regulus stopped mid-sentence again.
Lys took a breath, growing impatient—why couldn't he speak clearly?
"Where's the boat? I'll go take a look."
The coastline was bleak, the ground beneath their feet jagged with broken stones. Lys walked unsteadily, slipping and stumbling with each step.
Her wand's light was cold and harsh, making the shadows cast by the rocks seem even more sinister. Lys cleared her throat and adjusted her wand's illumination to make the atmosphere less eerie.
Despite casting waterproofing charms on her shoes, the icy waves kept washing away what little warmth she managed to gather. Her hands and feet were numb with cold, even painfully so.
Regulus walked ahead, occasionally trying to steady Lys, but she impatiently urged him to hurry. "It's freezing!" Even warming charms weren't helping.
When Lys finally slipped and landed hard on a moss-slicked boulder, Regulus found a chain.
The clanking of the dragged chain echoed in the coastal hollow. Regulus looked at the dripping wet boat, then at Lys, and draped his cloak over her.
But Lys handed it right back. She extended her wand, thought for a moment, and used several alchemical detection spells, but the results were minimal.
Lys tried several other spells, frowning at Regulus: "This thing has everything on it. I can't figure it out quickly. And even if you gave me time, I could only tell you what's happening—I couldn't solve it."
"It's not that I don't want to help you, but I truly can't enter that place with you or answer the questions you want answered."
To prove she was telling the truth, Lys even raised her wand and swore an oath.
Regulus's pride and disappointment were nearly equal. He released his grip, as if his heart was sinking to the bottom with that clanking chain.
"When I was young, that man wasn't like he is now. Back then, he was wise, noble—every action had different meaning behind it. That was when the pure-blood families were being exploited and oppressed most severely by the Ministry of Magic."
At this point, Regulus bit his lip and forcibly pulled the cloak over Lys's head.
"It was his appearance that united the scheming pure-bloods who only knew how to consume each other. Facing the law, every word he spoke carried different implications—indisputable, irrefutable. Against those underhanded tactics, he always crushed enemies with thunderous power, achieving inevitable victory."
Lys counted on her fingers, calculating the years and Regulus's age, then asked:
"You saw this yourself?"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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