Late at night, Lys studied the array diagram in her book by candlelight.
Before her lay a neat row of thin amber plates stuck to a wooden board with Sticking Charms—Noah's handiwork to make one-handed operation easier for Lys.
As she carved, her mind wandered. Unconsciously, she glanced toward the wall where she hid her things, and her hand suddenly stopped moving.
She was afraid the Dark Lord might inspect her secrets. She wanted to deal with the Horcrux in her possession as soon as possible and check whether her willow wand had fallen there.
Though she rarely used her willow wand, it wasn't exactly unknown either.
She lowered her head and continued carving, but her agitated mood left the entire array crooked and chaotic, completely without coherence.
Lys quickly pushed everything away and stared up at the ceiling. Gabon, lying on her lap, lifted its serpentine head to check on Lys, found nothing wrong, then adjusted its position and settled back down.
Senna had tried to cure Lys following St. Mungo's prescription, but the poison's effects were simply too powerful—Lys kept relapsing and couldn't recover.
Thinking about this, Lys couldn't help but sigh. Recently, she'd declined all of Malfoy's invitations and Death Eater activities because even casting a simple Scourgify was agonizing.
Bellatrix had spotted her once during a visit to Malfoy Manor.
Lys had been stared at for nearly half an hour... and finally dismissed.
Even though Bellatrix thought Lys was so useless she disgraced the Death Eater title, she tacitly accepted that throwing such a disabled witch into battle would only serve to inspire the Order of the Phoenix. With disgust, she told Lucius to keep an eye on Lys and left it at that.
While Lys felt relieved, she also remembered the news brought by that witch from Knockturn Alley: a family of wizards who'd pledged loyalty to the Dark Lord found reality didn't match expectations, tried to flee the country, and died—the entire family perished.
Later, Lucius wrote saying someone had dug up the werewolf immigration application Lys had previously submitted to Italy and tried to tell Bellatrix about it, but he'd intercepted it.
He warned Lys to be careful not to let Bellatrix catch her.
Lys tilted her head back and exhaled. She'd only secretly slipped out one application, and even that was discovered...
Sitting in her cushioned chair, she felt thirsty. Standing up, Lys poured herself a glass of water.
Now, whenever Lys channeled magic anywhere in her body, it felt like being thrown into a thousand-degree furnace—a parched, brittle sensation as if she might crumble to pieces. Drinking water until she nearly burst couldn't relieve it.
In this state, she easily heard herself talking to herself, unable to distinguish whether she was asleep or awake, muttering strange things aloud.
Even when Malfoy and Regulus invited her to Germany together, Lys refused.
Her current priorities were: first, visit the cave once to eliminate hidden dangers; then focus on recuperating; finally, find a time when the Dark Lord was frequently activating the Dark Mark to get her arm treated.
She also thought about her father wanting to go out—perhaps she could take him for a stroll in that forest with the gorillas. The seaside was definitely out...
And there was that witch from Knockturn Alley—Lys wanted her to gather some materials. After all, Lucius was abroad, and if Cerebold had to fly to Germany and back, she might not need those materials anymore by the time it returned.
The urgency around materials had eased somewhat now.
Getting supplies for medical treatment—Bellatrix might be a bit mad, but hopefully not completely insane. A few materials shouldn't trigger her sensitive nerves...
After settling these thoughts, Lys finally managed a brief nap.
When Senna woke to check her cauldron, Lys was already up preparing breakfast.
Sizzling fried eggs and bacon-corn wraps filled half the table, accompanied by refreshing morning dental potion and extra-concentrated honey water, giving the family a satisfying breakfast.
After noon, Lys made a trip to Knockturn Alley. She planned to go quickly and return quickly.
Noah said the hem of his dragon-hide coat from last time was torn and unsightly, so he'd bought new leather to make another. That afternoon, Noah planned to take her measurements to avoid the embarrassment of buttons not fastening properly again.
After all, materials were in high demand now—sometimes even carrying a bag of Galleons couldn't secure goods.
Lys complained about the inconvenience caused by the leaderless, scattered state of Britain's smuggling world since old Thomas's death, while hurrying toward the shabby little house in Knockturn Alley, wondering if she could seize opportunities to control more channels once tensions eased.
Lys had planned to discuss this matter with her contact in Knockturn Alley, but when she opened the door, she found a half-dead witch inside. Only when the witch saw the lily mask did she lower her old wand.
Lys was momentarily stunned. The witch's Squib daughter was also injured, her arms showing obvious magical damage—bruised black and purple. Though protected in her mother's embrace, the girl's eyes remained clear as she looked at Lys.
"What happened?" Lys finally managed to ask after a long moment.
The witch's eyes seemed to glisten with moisture. "Ever since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named began intercepting all material channels, people have been eyeing your inventory. At first, I could use your reputation to suppress them, but when they saw you hadn't come for a long time, they developed ill intentions. I sent you an owl, but it just circled around and landed back here."
The witch continued through gritted teeth, "Those wizards took my daughter to threaten me. I snatched her back, but they've kept people watching this place. My identity prevents me from appearing outside, so I could only wait here for an opportunity..." She glanced at Lys. "Wait for a chance to leave."
Hearing this, Lys showed none of the displeasure the witch expected. Instead, she stared blankly at the toy wand clutched tightly in the child's hands.
Her mind wandered again.
Lys remembered Malfoy's previous proposal—all Hogwarts admission invitations would undergo review. If that happened, wouldn't some children never know they were wizards for their entire lives?
She suddenly asked, "How do you know your daughter is a Squib?"
"Huh? She's never had magical outbursts, shows no magical manifestations in daily life, and didn't receive a Hogwarts letter when she turned eleven..." Though the witch didn't understand why Lys was asking, she answered truthfully.
"What about her father?"
"..." Seeing her reluctance to speak, Lys realized it wasn't appropriate to discuss such matters in front of the little girl and changed the subject.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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