After returning to the room where her parents were, Lys looked at Senna's pale face as she still clutched her stomach, and couldn't control the fury rising to her throat.
Using Arrow Flight, Lys leaped out the window. Noah, holding Crunch, couldn't even call her back.
After finding the culprit, Lys didn't use magic again—she simply kicked Barty Crouch Jr. hard in the stomach, knocked his wand away, and landed two vicious punches on his still-swollen left cheek with her right hand.
Lys knew she couldn't really do anything serious to him, so the humiliation was deliberate and heavy.
"Barty Crouch, where do you get your confidence? You think you can accuse me of betrayal and dare to incite Bellatrix to attack my family directly?"
"Based on what? Your ruthless methods? Hmm?" Lys backhanded him with several more slaps. "Your father being Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? Hmm?" "The Lord's trust in you? Hmm?"
The youngest Lestrange son, who was helping Barty Crouch with counter-curses, was stunned.
After Barty Crouch took several more punches, he finally remembered to restrain Lys.
But under Lys's fierce glare, he withdrew his hand.
After creating such a scene and still walking away safely from the Lord's presence, who knew what capabilities Stalys Black possessed...
Barty Crouch took several more slaps and gained a broken nose bridge. Having lost the initiative and being physically dominated by Lys's height, he was quickly kicked to the ground again.
Lys warned him with her hoarse voice: "I can endure a great deal, but there are some things I won't tolerate at all. If you don't want to chill the Death Eaters' hearts from serving the Lord, you'd better suppress your desire for revenge against me."
Crouching down, Lys hugged her left arm and looked at Barty Crouch lying on the ground with a dark expression.
She shook her head, unable to completely hide the calculation in her eyes. This madman would never contradict anything the Dark Lord acknowledged.
Letting out a soft breath, Lys's hoarse voice made it difficult for Barty Crouch to distinguish, but after hearing clearly, he became even more silent.
"I know why you chose me. You want to teach all those with restless hearts a lesson, make them not dare harbor thoughts of betrayal."
Lys glanced sideways at the youngest Lestrange and continued:
"Only I have low status, no background, and happened to stand beside someone you targeted—most suitable for warning people's hearts. But don't you think—do you believe only you want to use me?"
"Thomas, Lestrange, Black—even Malfoy once wanted to push me out. Don't you wonder... how I've survived until now? Barty Crouch, you're certainly clever, but you're just too aware of your own cleverness."
Lys shook her wrist and patted his face. "Smart but not smart enough, so I suggest you tuck your tail and think carefully about what you can do for the Lord, rather than just watching what others are doing for the Lord."
"After all, watching young people compete for one's attention is amusing once or twice, but too much might not be."
Lys lifted her foot from stepping on him, poured the half-bottle of calming draught Senna had given her into her mouth, and stared directly at Barty Crouch's changing expression until he avoided Lys's gaze.
When standing up, Lys swayed slightly. The nearby Lestrange actually instinctively dodged, only helping Barty Crouch up after watching Lys being taken away by Noah, who couldn't climb through the window and had to jog out slowly through the main door.
At this moment by a third-floor window, the Dark Lord and Menierquaid Karkaroff sat by the window discussing something. Menierquaid kept his brows lowered, agreeing with the arrogance of the man before him.
Using Britain's wizarding world as a base, then Germany as a springboard—the whole world within their grasp?
He sipped his wine, remembering when this man who had stirred up bloodshed throughout Britain's wizarding world first visited his home.
Extraordinarily gifted, deeply learned, his grasp of human nature and sharp, extreme views of the world evident in every conversation.
Before his uncle discovered his problems, he had always lived in this man's shadow. His father would always say, "Look at that young man!"
But now? He hid his mockery in the wine, catering to the hints from across the table: "Very much looking forward to that day's arrival."
Walking out of the manor, he sneered: Fear and greed would destroy anyone from within, whether a top leader or...
"Oh! Miss Stalys, so delighted to see you again. You're still so..."
Menierquaid looked up and down at Lys's bloodstained, torn shirt, layered cloak, and the dust she'd picked up from fighting on the ground.
Yes, sitting by the window, Menierquaid had seen how Lys swung her fist to knock a man to the ground.
"...unique."
But Lys simply Disapparated home with Noah supporting Senna, with no intention of responding.
Home—back to that small building on the hillside, home.
Coco rushed out, using magic to help Senna rest, while Lys dove into the kitchen and began gulping water from the kettle.
Water she couldn't swallow in time spilled from the corners of her mouth, flowing onto her shirt and cloak, mixing blood and dust together and dripping down.
The kettle's water was quickly finished. Though she felt like vomiting from being so full, she was still thirsty. Lys tried summoning Coco—she wanted water—but then remembered she didn't have the authority to summon Coco. In this house, Coco only needed to obey her father and mother's commands, because...
Because her young, fearful, willful self had nearly starved Noah to death?
Did her father also think her mother wouldn't return then?
Carrying a werewolf who couldn't survive without care—did he think this family would be better without him?
Lys shook her head, casting off thoughts influenced by potions and magic, abandoning useless memories to consider whether she could go to Germany.
She needed to think about the future—that was what mattered.
After today's events, Bellatrix would definitely watch her closely. With the Dark Lord behind her, she might not act for a month, a year, but someday she would.
Shaking her head again, Lys was very clear about what might happen after today.
Lys had considered making Bellatrix disappear directly.
But Bellatrix was an outstanding Black family member, wife of the next Lestrange family head, and the Dark Lord's most trusted, favored subordinate.
Lys could kill her, but what then? She wasn't like Fenrir Greyback—her death would matter.
Lys laughed bitterly at her own thoughts, picked up the now-empty kettle, and lay down on what was now Coco's small bed.
The bed was so small it only accommodated Lys's upper body; her feet and one arm hung to the floor. The swelling in her left hand was getting worse, even showing traces of blue-black.
Malfoy? Black? Snape?
The Dark Lord controlled every noble, every subordinate. As long as you displeased him, you could decline or disappear.
And he was a madman who had made Horcruxes—he could be displeased anytime, anywhere...
She just wanted to be peacefully with her parents—why was it so difficult?
Even survival depended on others' daily moods... My mother... Cruciatus... it hurts so much...
Lys curled up, trying to squeeze herself into this small bed.
The day's exhaustion and panic quickly pulled Lys into deep sleep. When Noah had Coco move the bed with Lys back to the second-floor bedroom, Lys, curled on the small bed with closed eyes, asked: "Dad, can we go to Germany?"
"Of course." Noah didn't hesitate.
"Is Mom alright?"
"She's already asleep."
"Mm."
The next day, the family's atmosphere was heavy as they ate Coco's prepared breakfast.
Lys spoke first: "We probably can't stay in Britain anymore."
Senna, pale-faced and lost in thought, while Noah nodded.
Lys was about to explain why when she heard Senna look up and say confusedly:
"I'm not certain, but I think... I might be pregnant."
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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