She didn't look well.
But Dumbledore's contemplation was quickly interrupted when the professor's attending healer arrived...
Meanwhile, Lys made her way to the third floor's Potions and Toxicology Department. The corridor was filled with floating bubbles of various colors, and the air carried an unpleasant odor.
No one came to greet her, so she counted to the fourth door and knocked. There was no response—only irregular tapping sounds from within. Just as Lys was wondering how to find the healer, she faintly heard cries for help coming from behind the door.
Lys glanced around. No one else was there; everything in sight was quiet and still.
She hesitated for a moment, looked down at her dragon-hide boots, and with a loud "Bang!" kicked the door wide open.
The cries for help inside fell silent. "I didn't lock the door..."
"That's not important. What matters is—are you alright? Is there anything I can do to help?"
The witch on the floor looked ashen, seemingly having trouble breathing. Lys crouched down to examine her. "Do you need me to go downstairs and get someone?"
"No need, miss. Just hand me the pink vapor potion on the table."
After inhaling the potion, the witch's condition visibly improved.
Learning that this witch had gotten herself into this state by experimenting with a new detection spell, Lys began to wonder if she should find a different healer...
But the witch explained that all the other healers were helping in the Potions Injury Department, and she was the only one on duty today. Lys had no choice but to accept the situation.
The healer's eyes sparkled as she invited Lys to try her new detection method, but Lys sensibly declined.
She suddenly wondered if perhaps, among wizards, her brain was actually... normal? Maybe she just usually hung around all those brilliant people, making herself seem rather dim by comparison?
But since she was already here, Lys followed standard procedure. Under the healer's disappointed gaze, she blew an almost black bubble at the detection charm.
The healer's face turned purple. She flipped through a notebook in front of her, using her finger to match colors from the first line, turning page after page until she reached the end without finding any corresponding color analysis.
The bubble drifted into the corridor and popped with a soft "Pop!" Now it was Lys's turn to look uncomfortable—so the reason the corridor air smelled bad was because those floating bubbles contained other people's breath...
The more Lys thought about it, the more restless she became. She stood up decisively, wanting to leave. "I'll come back later. Take your time looking—I'm going to visit the Spell Damage Department first."
The healer had already begun rummaging through other medical file folders. Hearing this, she nodded awkwardly while reminding her, "Remember to come back—your case seems... a bit troublesome."
After understanding the principle behind this detection spell, Lys realized it had nothing to do with what she wanted examined. This charm detected overall potion residue in the body, not specific areas.
Scratching at a few dry, unruly strands of hair on her head, Lys thought that if this healer could actually identify what potion residue was in her body, she wouldn't be stuck in such a technically undemanding position.
Following the directional signs, Lys found her way to the Spell Damage Department. The place was chaotic, as if someone had released a nest of hornets inside...
"Make way, make way! Careful not to bump into anyone!" A wizard with a moose head and a witch with half a skunk's tail rushed past Lys.
"Sorry to cut in line, but I think my blasted husband can barely breathe!"
The entire hall was a cacophony of voices and chaos, with dog barking coming from somewhere unknown...
A healer carrying a stack of file folders rolled his eyes at the scene:
"Merlin's beard! Can't you just use Avada Kedavra for these domestic disputes? Oh! Don't be angry, Director! I was just joking..."
After being reprimanded, he dejectedly continued flipping through his folders, then suddenly snapped them shut and looked up at Lys: "Visiting or treatment? Do you have an appointment? What's your name?"
Seeing that someone finally noticed her, Lys quickly answered, "Black, treatment. The lady at reception should have made an appointment."
He opened a small paper airplane that had been following him and checked it. "Mentally alert, self-referred, coherent expression, chief complaint of self-perceived arrogance? Requesting examination for possible adverse brain effects?" He looked at Lys with confusion.
He'd never seen such a treatment objective before, but... "Well, you're in luck. The Director just went on break—he's in the first office. See it? Take this note, there's no door, just go right in."
Lys nodded to show she understood and obediently took the note.
Upon entering, Lys could tell the Director was truly exhausted. His hair looked like it had been licked by that moose-headed wizard, and he was now working hard to clean the saliva from it.
"You look alright—perhaps you wouldn't mind waiting just two or three minutes?"
Seeing Lys agree, he quickly ducked into the washroom. Who knew what that moose-head had been eating—his mouth was so foul.
Bored, Lys stood by the wall and began reading the Director's credentials posted there.
Over thirty years of service... extensive experience.
Graduated from Hogwarts, achieved Outstanding in N.E.W.T. exams for Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Main contributions: new detection charms... research on toad toxin addiction withdrawal...
Five years as an intern, twelve years as assistant healer, fifteen years as attending healer.
Lys calculated—so he'd just become Director...
"Thank you for your understanding. Sometimes patients' behavior is so affected by magic that they can't control themselves, and we can only take time to handle it ourselves."
The Director cast a Drying Charm on his remaining hair while taking the note from Lys's hand.
Like the previous healer, he looked at Lys with confusion. They'd seen plenty of patients who were foolish yet still confident.
But a patient who self-reported being so arrogant they needed medical attention... they'd never encountered that before.
"Tell me, why do you think you're arrogant?"
"It's not arrogance—I think there's something wrong with my brain. About four years ago, I could still restrain some of my thoughts and remind myself to maintain self-awareness. But around one to two years ago, I suffered several unpleasant curses and... well, anyway, after that, although I can still roughly predict what will happen, I always stupidly act on impulse and take risks, nearly getting myself killed."
"You're saying you suspect those unpleasant curse encounters affected your mind?"
Lys pondered for a moment. "Yes, that's roughly what I mean." More or less—ever since the Dark Lord hadn't killed her with the Cruciatus Curse, her courage seemed to keep growing...
Actually, Lys's complaint about going to St. Mungo's to have her brain checked had originally been just self-deprecating sarcasm in the cave. But when Lys returned to the reading room in her wretched state, this offhand joke was taken seriously by Senna.
"You really should get examined. After all, the healing spells you researched only target external injuries and dark magic damage, and I'm just a potioneer who brews according to recipes. Whether you've suffered internal, hidden damage—we have no way of knowing."
Noah also supported this from the side: "Yes, last time when Professor Snape brought you back, he seemed to mention that your mind wasn't very clear either."
Finally, after Lys had alleviated most of the symptoms from that terrifying potion, she came to St. Mungo's Hospital.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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