Taking several bottles of her supplementary potions from her satchel, Lys tossed them to the witch and ordered, "Drink these, then let's go get some revenge~"
While waiting for the witch to recover, Lys sat in a chair sharing butterbeer toffees with the little girl, asking curiously, "Apart from smuggling, you shouldn't have any major problems, right? Why can't your identity appear in public?"
The witch sighed. "It's all because of my brother. Two or three years ago, he helped some faction steal two French Veela children. The evidence left at the scene showed he used my stolen wand. Even though I'm innocent, with such a serious charge, I'd be held in Azkaban pending investigation. And now the Ministry of Magic has no interest in clearing a smuggler's name. France is still investigating this case—they'd love nothing more than to find me quickly and close it."
"I'd be thrown into Azkaban for life. What about Lulu? She can't survive here alone..."
Lys nodded and stuffed another lollipop into the little girl's mouth. "Can't she speak?"
With arms injured this severely, she didn't even whimper?
"She can, but she doesn't talk much."
Hearing this, Lys nodded and began examining the little girl's arms.
Nothing too serious—just extensive fractures with no other issues, and her condition was stable. Her mother must have treated her already.
If it was only skeletal problems, Lys was very familiar with those—extremely familiar...
After studying the list for a while and checking that the witch had recovered sufficiently, Lys stood up from her chair. "Bring this little one along. Let's go fight."
Lys wasn't the one doing the fighting, but standing there wearing the lily mask was intimidation enough. She simply held her wand to prevent accidents while watching the witch struggle through combat.
Lys crouched down and turned the little girl's arm. A flash of pain crossed the child's face, but she didn't struggle. Lys had her grip the handle of the blackthorn wand while placing her own hand on the outside. "Lulu, right? Come on, say it with me: 'Impedimenta'"
"Impe..." "Don't rush. Imagine him falling down—if he trips, your mother won't get hurt. Say it with me again: 'Impedimenta'"
"Impe... Impedimenta." But there was no effect. The targeted wizard continued viciously casting spells. The protective gear Lys had placed on the witch blocked most of the power, but even so, the witch was gradually being overwhelmed.
"Try again. Say it with me: 'Im-pe-di-men-ta'" Lys wasn't planning to act herself. Due to the potion's side effects, if she intervened, none of these people would survive—and she didn't want to carry so many pointless deaths on her conscience.
Though she had methods to control the situation, she wanted to verify a suspicion first.
"Impedimenta." Lys sensed the faintest trace of magic—like a feather brushing against a boulder, barely perceptible—but it wasn't enough.
She'd had this suspicion since seeing the scorch marks on the toy wand in the child's hands.
"Try again! Your mother is hurt! Shout this spell loudly to make the enemy fall, and you can help her. Shout!"
"Impedimenta! Impedimenta!" The wizard's feet showed a slight hesitation, like stepping on a pebble. He probably didn't notice, but Lys did. She laughed aloud. "You're not a Squib! Come on, shout this spell ten more times, as loud as you can!"
Little Lulu looked up incredulously at the lily on Lys's mask and those two eye holes, staring intently at the laughter in those gray eyes.
Turning back around, she shouted loudly: "Impedimenta! Impedimenta!"...
Gone was the timid appearance of hiding behind her mother—her fierce roaring made Lys laugh so hard she plopped down on the ground.
Lulu, pulled off balance, couldn't straighten Lys's long, crooked wand. After many shouts, the blackthorn wand finally flickered with a weak, inconspicuous spell light, but due to Lys's interference, it missed its target.
Lulu's mouth, agape with surprise, still showed bits of butterbeer toffee stuck to her teeth. She looked at the wand in her hand, then at her mother staggering back from an enemy spell. "Impedimenta! Impedimenta!"
Though only one in ten spells took effect, it genuinely helped the witch. Relying on the stack of alchemical protective items Lys had given her, she barely gained the upper hand against three attackers. Seizing this opportunity, she completely eliminated one opponent's fighting capacity.
Lys took a potion from her pocket and made the little girl drink half of it. The taste was so harsh it wrinkled the child's face like old bark.
While manipulating Lulu's arm, Lys instructed the witch: "Hurry up. After you finish fighting, I'll teach you how to treat your daughter's arm. I have other matters to attend to. Quickly—why are you fighting so conservatively?"
Actually, the witch's combat performance was already quite good. Maintaining stable performance while overjoyed was something many couldn't achieve. Her past battles had always required simultaneously protecting her daughter, forming steady, methodical habits that couldn't change overnight.
When the battle ended, she rushed to Lulu and shoved the wand into her hands. "Lulu! Lulu! Use it once more, just once... sob..."
But Lys checked her pocket watch and clicked her tongue. The witch made a sharp intake of breath, and her sobbing stopped abruptly.
Lys first drew a skeletal diagram for the witch, then taught her the healing spells she'd need. But magic sometimes depends on talent, after all~
The witch practiced on the defeated wizards. Each time she healed cut flesh, it always formed gnarled, clustered scars. No matter how Lys explained, this was the witch's best result.
Lys sighed. "Maybe I should take her to St. Mungo's. Your spellwork is... inadequate. Such large scars—even scar-removal potions won't help."
She had good ideas in combat—how could her healing magic be so terrible...
But the little girl refused to leave her mother, clinging silently to her hand without speaking. The treatment matter had to be abandoned.
Lys recalled the mother and daughter's house, smashed to pieces, and led them both to the previous black clinic. When introducing the owner, she said: "The owner isn't trustworthy either, but it's better than where you were living before."
Ignoring the bald owner's grumbling, she settled the two of them in.
Before leaving, Lys warned the woman not to keep introducing her daughter as a Squib to others. Spellcasting required mental focus and willpower—if one day she stopped acknowledging her wizard identity, she'd truly become a Squib.
And don't forget to practice healing spells, plus the matter of purchasing materials. "Be careful when buying—don't get targeted. Once you're caught by that Lord's subordinates, I can't solve it. So if anything seems wrong, don't hesitate—stop and run."
This left the black clinic owner and the witch staring at each other.
One wondered: Is my medical skill really that poor?
The other wondered: Just how terrible is this black clinic owner's medical skill?
But actually, Lys's damaged brain simply couldn't process things properly—she didn't even realize she'd brought the witch to a 'black clinic.'
A clinic...
Unable to use magic for Apparition, Lys wasted enormous amounts of time traveling. When she arrived home, it was already dark and Noah had finished making dinner.
While Senna complained about brewing potions for the two of them every day—saying she had no time for potion research, couldn't even brew common everyday medicines—Lys sheepishly set the table.
After dinner, she quietly stood before Noah's workstation with arms outstretched, letting Noah measure her shoulder width.
Suddenly, Lys swung her right hand sharply—but caught nothing.
"Cerebold! You're pooping on my head again!!"
With Noah's measuring tape draped over her shoulders, Lys chased that stupid bird around the entire reading room. Noah sat on the sofa, accepting nuts Senna casually handed him.
"These nuts are quite tasty. Did the little lunatic buy them?" Hearing Senna's question, Noah glanced down, then looked at Senna with hesitation...
"These are Cerebold's snacks..."
"Oh, buy more next time."
"Mm... alright."
...
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