"Now, tell me what spells you used, or the purpose and steps of your experiments."
However, the men weren't cooperating at all—or rather, they couldn't quite remember. They'd been drunk at the time, everything hazy and indistinct in their memories.
The wizard on the ground rambled incoherently under the Cruciatus Curse's torment, but no useful information emerged.
Lys steadied her breathing. "Senior, I need to trouble you with one more thing. Find a wizard who knows Legilimency."
Outside, Lucius racked his brain but couldn't determine who to approach for such matters. If word leaked, Malfoy's smooth passage through the Ministry would be finished.
Eventually, he summoned Snape, who was on holiday.
"One drop! More than that and he'll become an idiot—you'll never extract anything useful again!" Snape warned, observing Stalys's trembling hands.
"Sorry. My emotions aren't entirely under control."
Snape ultimately gripped the dropper himself, deftly flicking a single drop of transparent liquid into the restrained wizard's mouth.
Listening to the fragmented experimental theories and confused inspirations the two wizards kept spilling, not only did Lys display murderous intent—even Snape narrowed his eyes. Merlin's domain—such bizarre research institutes still operated secretly in Britain? Indeed, every era bred fools who salivated over inaccessible realms.
Lucius remained outside, admiring his wand while minding the child.
Since administering Veritaserum to unconvicted criminals violated regulations, despite his substantial Ministry bribe, certain matters required discretion.
Still, Stalys's brother truly resembled the Black family—especially those grey eyes. The more you looked, the more convinced you became he'd mirror those Black portraits when grown.
Perhaps Stalys alone wasn't worth such efforts, but as a friend...
Malfoy pondered idly while dismissing the Auror office director attempting to discover the room's activities.
Inside, Lys absorbed all scattered testimonies, stared at the three floor-bound wizards, muttered something about "even chasing them to Azkaban..." then suddenly spun, yanked the door open, and departed. Lucius, caught off-guard while organizing himself, quickly pursued to return the child.
"If souls truly journey to that place, this might be my final opportunity." Muttering something, Lys took Friedm and rushed back to St. Mungo's.
The bald director, memory still scrambled, attempted organizing his examination results to communicate with the patient's family, but Lys ruthlessly ejected him.
Lys continued muttering before addressing Senna.
"Mum, we're leaving. This kind of problem... St. Mungo's can't solve it."
Senna's eyes blazed with startling intensity: "You can?"
She remembered—before her stood the little madwoman who'd dared tamper with souls in fifth year!
Lys couldn't be certain. Years spent attempting to restore her own soul, studying soul mysteries—she possessed only vague answers, but...
"I don't know."
Indeed, she didn't know.
Money's power proved formidable. Though Immigration Control harbored considerable complaints about Lys's somewhat violent entry method, under Lucius's mediation, the family of four returned to Germany via the Ministry's international Floo Network.
After arranging their departure, Lucius slipped additional funds to specifically instruct Legal Affairs recorders to blur those prisoners' Prior Incantato traces, positioning malicious spells most prominently.
You see, if they insisted on Noah's werewolf identity, they'd likely serve brief sentences before release. Werewolf status remained deplorably low—especially with this particular werewolf now gone.
Now those men faced minimum one-year Azkaban sentences. Lucius felt this should provide his deranged junior sufficient time for whatever she planned once her hands were free.
He returned to Malfoy Manor with Snape. Lucius's son Draco politely greeted Snape before retreating to his room.
"Severus, how are those materials from Mexico's major smuggling case working out?" Lucius inquired after settling properly.
Snape tilted his head back, studying Lucius from his chair: "What are you driving at?"
"What am I driving at? Stalys's recent crimes were all significant. Though never charged with murder, under those circumstances I doubt her hands remained clean."
Observing silent Snape, Lucius grew contemplative. "That's what surprises me. I struggle connecting the recent Stalys with that previously timid, submissive girl who simply wanted peaceful existence."
"And?"
"And?" Lucius regarded Snape, whose expression showed comprehension. "Yes, having such a person as friend proves beneficial."
Lucius leaned back. "I just wonder what'll happen to her werewolf father this time?"
What would happen?
Noah's condition remained poor. Lys's treatments hadn't achieved desired effects.
He regained consciousness only occasionally, briefly. He told Senna and Lys to stop trying to pull him back—perhaps twenty-plus years ago, he should have journeyed to that white forest.
He spoke incoherently like delivering final words until Lys's magic ceased.
Senna didn't understand Noah's meaning, but Lys did. The Veil wasn't the black described in her pirated, bizarre storybook.
In various official, ancient documents, the Veil appeared as a silver-white world.
And the Veil...
That Egyptian tomb concerning Anubis had stated: the path to souls' destination—the Veil—was one-way. None could retreat unscathed without paying prices.
Britain spoke of cloaked Death, the East of black and white spirits guiding souls forward.
Regardless—whether manuscripts, stories, or records from anywhere—unchangeable!
Soul progression within the Veil was irreversible. This remained all ancient texts' consensus.
Watching Noah lapse back into unconsciousness, Lys's helplessness plunged Senna into renewed silence.
Lost, Friedm brought food, but until everything grew cold, nobody stirred.
"Lys..." Friedm's gaze wandered between Lys and Senna, then toward their father who'd slept for days. He quietly retreated to the sofa's edge, clutching his pet Puffball and Kreacher, sitting silently.
Lys returned to her study and laboratory, frantically searching through everything.
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