After making her decision, Lys submitted an application to the vice-headmaster. This school's affairs were largely managed by the vice-headmaster—a stern witch who sometimes reminded Lys remarkably of Professor McGonagall.
The vice-headmaster held a favorable impression of Lys and approved the application, though she also issued a warning: some students remained determined to undermine her. "You'd best keep a close eye on your family's child."
Lys nodded without correcting the vice-headmaster's phrasing. Ever since she'd dealt with those little bastards, they hadn't merely attempted magical or physical suppression—they'd begun spreading rumors about her, claiming Lys had borne a child out of wedlock.
Or sharing secrets, such as Lys's father's werewolf identity. Despite repeated disciplinary measures, they remained enthusiastically persistent.
Childish...
Though some claims were factual and irrefutable...
But if they dared utter a single word in front of her little brother... Lys smiled slightly.
Noah clutched his suitcase and the lunch box Lys had thrust into his hands, promising he wouldn't remove his alchemical protective items and would safeguard Senna properly, before departing with Senna.
They'd return in five days minimum, ten maximum. Lys had already written requesting Senior Lucius's assistance with arrangements.
Habitually grasping her little brother's collar, Lys brought him via Apparition, then through the Floo Network to work. Friedm obediently hunched his shoulders, awaiting the moment his sister would release him.
He was tremendously excited about "work."
Though upon reaching Durmstrang, he wasn't permitted to wander freely, leave Lys's sight, or ride his toy broomstick.
Nevertheless, Friedm remained delighted these past two days. He even mimicked Lys's pose—standing by the window with crossed arms—though he could only see stone bricks on the wall rather than the students brawling outside.
In classrooms where Lys temporarily substituted, he sat in the back row, earnestly waving his toy wand while puzzling over why his magic differed so dramatically from those students'.
He also accompanied Lys visiting the Care of Magical Creatures professor's domain, though this instructor favored scaled creatures, which failed to capture Friedm's interest.
During quieter moments, Lys sat in her office observing her chattering brother, yet her thoughts drifted to her former self.
As Friedm gradually matured—despite his relative independence—Senna would still tend to him. Lys sometimes inevitably felt emotionally unbalanced about this.
Yet clearly this brother preferred her, and she was the one who'd knocked the potion from Senna's hands...
She constantly questioned whether her current twisted emotions constituted jealousy, yet responded swiftly whenever Friedm made requests.
She felt herself splitting into two people—jealousy warring with satisfaction about her present life. This discomfort was unbearable.
She couldn't distinguish her genuine thoughts from the cowardice her still-unrepaired soul brought when facing choices.
Perhaps once she mended her soul, she'd understand...
The child's clear, earnest voice reached her ears again:
"Lys! Lys! Tell it again! The forest Niffler stole your things—how did you catch it? And, and! Who was that wandering old wizard? Why did he attack you?! Wait for me to grow up, Lys! When I get my own wand, I'll help you fight him!"
Lys exhaled, meeting those bright grey eyes, then lifted her cup to give the child some hot milk before continuing.
"The Niffler was petrified with a snap... The old wizard—I interfered with levels currently beyond my reach. Some people delivered that consequence, but I escaped, so consider it a warning... You see~ power represents the world's most honest attitude."
Friedm remained too young. Even Lys's current students sometimes failed to grasp her meaning. What could this little creature, barely reaching her shin, possibly comprehend? Yet in his confusion, he still retained fragments of Lys's words.
Checking the time, Lys ensured Friedm finished his milk, then sent him and Kreacher to play with those two Lightning Bats while she resumed studying Egyptian notes regarding the soul's destination.
But soon she'd lose the opportunity to research such matters.
Noah had been attacked.
When Lys arrived in Britain carrying Friedm, Lucius's backdoor entry application hadn't even reached the Ministry of Magic.
Lys stood outside the Auror office, listening to the guarded man shouting: "He's a werewolf! He's a werewolf! I was defending myself! You must believe me!"
She drew a sharp breath. This trip had deliberately avoided the full moon! Noah wouldn't have had opportunity to harm anyone. What was happening?!
"Senior, where's my father?"
Lucius, having just arrived, was equally troubled. He harbored suspicions about this junior's activities these past years—he didn't believe Stalys had kept her hands clean during those cargo-robbing years.
'This is problematic.' Despite thinking this, he looked up and informed Lys seriously:
"At St. Mungo's. Badly injured. Several wizards were involved—only this one's been captured so far."
As Lys turned, Friedm swung sharply in her grip. His underarm clothing had constricted him extensively, forcing out an involuntary grunt.
Cradling Friedm properly, Lys departed the Ministry and Apparated to St. Mungo's. Noah's attending physician was that same bald director. Before entering, Lys witnessed the doctor shaking his head at Senna, who clutched his collar desperately.
Lys pushed past the bald physician, deposited Friedm at the bed's foot, and cast several diagnostic spells on Noah.
"It's hopeless. Those wizards were intoxicated, using compound, complex spells. Several might relate to the soul—if souls truly exist. This gentleman may soon begin his next journey."
His euphemistic phrasing didn't fool Senna. She bit her lip, gazing at her husband, feeling their briefly brightened sky plunging back into darkness...
Upon hearing this, Lys swiftly removed the Ouroboros ring from her middle finger, placing it on Noah's hand. The recently activated array—trading soul dissipation fluctuations for power—glowed faintly silver.
The bald man spoke truth. She'd witnessed such flickering brightness during soul-related experiments... Lys's heart lurched with panic.
"Lys, what's wrong with Dad?" Friedm felt frightened seeing Senna's tears. He tugged gently at Lys's sleeve.
But Lys lacked patience for such questions now. She clawed at her hair viciously, despising her magical inadequacy for the first time!
Lys seemed to recall something, retrieving a smoke-like potion from her small bag and pouring it into Noah's mouth. The ring's radiance gradually dimmed.
This potion's appearance made the bald director gasp. Lys immediately struck him with Obliviate.
Lys sighed with relief, observing frightened Friedm before embracing him. "Everything's fine. I'll protect this family. I promised."
However, she hadn't yet grasped the problem's true severity.
"Mum, I'm leaving briefly!" Lys departed again with Friedm. She needed to understand exactly what harm Noah had suffered.
The Ministry's temporary detention facility held several dejected wizards.
"I told you he was a werewolf. The Ministry definitely won't punish us. Where else would we find such excellent experimental material? I can't believe I had such a brilliant idea." A wizard in filthy robes carelessly shook his foot.
Another wizard covered his head. "I was just drunk! Using a 'person' for magical experiments—I must have been out of my bloody mind. If he dies, what happens to my soul!"
Just as the third prepared to speak, Lys—escorted by Lucius—directly raised the Blackthorn wand she hadn't used since beginning proper employment. The foot-shaking wizard immediately collapsed under Lys's vengeful Cruciatus Curse.
Lucius at the doorway sighed, examining his wand while bending to restrain Friedm, who wanted to follow, blocking his view.
He didn't relish standing guard and babysitting for Lys, but she was his vouched-for entry after all.
If someone discovered she'd dared use an Unforgivable Curse inside the Ministry... Forget it. This might have been inevitable from the moment Snape brought her to his home.
Still, he reminded her: "You promised me—no killing."
He heard Lys reply coldly: "At least not here."
Lys's frigid voice, combined with the convulsing, screaming wizard on the floor, carried bone-chilling menace regardless of perspective.
Reassured, Lucius closed the door. Not suitable for children, definitely not suitable for children...
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