After Lys departed, Lucius breathed a sigh of relief.
Truth be told, if not for Narcissa's reluctance to part with their son and his own concerns about Draco's pampered disposition, he'd nearly sent Draco to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts.
The German school's teaching would be far more rigorous, and Lys was on the faculty there.
Frankly speaking, Severus standing alongside Dumbledore stirred certain thoughts in Lucius's mind.
Her ability to teach at Durmstrang spoke volumes about his junior's capabilities.
Only after seeing Lys off did he return to examine those documents.
Having read through them, Lucius mused inwardly—if the Malfoy family were investors to their very bones, then Lys was an outright brigand...
Just look at these profit margins! Tsk, tsk, tsk! She certainly dared name her price...
Did she have any notion that this net profit percentage already constituted highway robbery?
Lucius signed the Malfoy name at the document's base and pressed down his seal, then began preparing for the Christmas festivities.
After Christmas, Lys gazed with considerable distress at her brother's eye-searing combinations of red-and-green, purple-and-yellow now that he'd gained sartorial freedom at school.
Even accounting for Christmas, Lys struggled to accept her brother venturing out dressed like a walking Christmas tree.
She did indeed find it difficult to experience satisfaction and joy after her soul's fracture, but her irritability and temper had grown considerably.
Even so, after Friedm somewhat bewilderedly declined Lys's tactful request that he change clothes, she still gritted her teeth and appeared at Malfoy Manor with her red-and-green brother in tow...
Lys wore a deep emerald ankle-length cloak over a crisply tailored black coat and matching trousers, Gabon perched upon her shoulder, dragonhide boots crunching through snow toward the Malfoy gates.
Friedm struggled to keep pace behind her, clutching his wand, a small star glittering with golden light dangling from his decorative belt.
He'd plucked it from the Christmas tree whilst riding his broomstick.
"Lys, wait for me! Might I pluck a couple of white peacock tail feathers later?"
Lys flicked her wand to announce their arrival to Lucius, then refused Friedm's request. "Though you may ask whether they've any collections from previous molting seasons."
Friedm nodded, then cast Scourgify upon both Lys's boots and his own.
After consideration, he cast a color-changing charm upon his shirt, masking any lingering traces with another spell.
"Their house isn't suited to my festive attire," Friedm explained whilst transforming his trousers to emerald green as well.
Lys suppressed her laughter, secretly harmonizing the rainbow remnants on Friedm's back before nodding and stepping through the Malfoy gates. Lucius awaited them at the entrance alongside Narcissa and their son, Draco Malfoy.
Lys extracted a box from her waist pouch and presented it to Narcissa. "Foreign curiosities—rather novel. Consider it entertainment."
After Narcissa accepted the gift and invited Lys inside, she gently nudged her son, signaling him to attend their young guest.
Draco and Friedm had corresponded as pen friends through Lys and Lucius's letters.
Their shared passion for flying broomsticks and Quidditch provided common ground, particularly after Draco mentioned joining the Quidditch team this term.
The pale young man with ash-blonde hair slicked back with pomade adopted a dignified air as he extended his invitation to Friedm.
But Friedm's etiquette was entirely self-taught.
He seized little Malfoy's primly offered handshake and dragged him straight toward the peacocks in the courtyard.
"Draco, we'll ride broomsticks presently, but first I fancy some of your family's—"
Narcissa drew a sharp breath watching her son's face suddenly bloom crimson, but still followed Lucius and Lys into the reception room.
"Their correspondence appears to have been most agreeable—otherwise Friedm isn't particularly easy to befriend." Or he wouldn't have engaged in so many scraps at school without making a single mate.
Swallowing the latter half of her observation, Lys glanced back at the chattering Friedm and the young master before broaching the main issue:
"I made some inquiries after returning home. They claim Slytherin's heir is purging Hogwarts of Mudbloods?" Lys asked directly. "Yet in reality, only one child has been petrified?"
Lucius nodded. "But that's hardly what concerns either of us. Every year brings fresh rumors from various quarters."
Lucius clasped Narcissa's hand and continued: "What troubles me is that over these past two months, whilst using the Two-Way Mirror and conversing with Draco through Severus's fireplace, I've noticed Draco seems... altered."
"Then, whilst inspecting my collection, I discovered something had gone missing."
"And so?"
"So I suspect he may have fallen under Dark Magic's influence—you should recall that particular diary."
Lucius refrained from mentioning the diary's provenance, but Lys suddenly went rigid.
"Friedm! Come here at once!" Lys's immediate reaction was summoning her brother. Hearing her voice, Friedm hauled Draco back into the reception room.
Lys fixed her gaze upon Draco, then commanded Friedm to sit. However, when Friedm settled himself, he didn't forget to pull Draco along—Lys intervened. "Draco, come stand before me."
Draco instinctively sought Lucius's eyes, but found himself cowed by Lys's authoritative presence—honed through years of commanding students. Only after Lucius signaled his permission did the boy stand stiffly before Lys.
The young man wasn't particularly tall, appearing somewhat frail. His fine ash-blonde hair, though fixed with pomade, had become slightly disheveled from Friedm's enthusiastic dragging. His complexion was wan save for the flush upon his cheeks—altogether rather unhealthy-looking.
Lys extended her magical senses, frowned, then cast two detection charms. Had Lys not been extraordinarily sensitive to magical emanations, she might have missed that barely perceptible fluctuation.
But the results proved reassuring. Relaxing marginally, Lys flicked her wand, using magic to guide the reluctantly standing youth to Friedm's side.
"All's well now—off you go. Should you ride broomsticks, mind you have the house-elves arrange proper cushioning charms." Lys's tone returned to its customary coolness.
This eased Friedm's tension considerably. He shifted to sit beside Lys, hoping to keep her company. "Lys, it's frightfully cold outside—I'll stay with you and—"
Before he could finish, a house-elf materialized at the doorway, informing Lucius: "Professor Snape's fireplace has activated, Master."
Lucius glanced toward Lys. "You wouldn't object to my receiving both you and Severus together?"
Lys waved dismissively. She remained preoccupied with how to address the diary matter—after all, since Lucius hadn't mentioned the book's origins, neither could she.
That was the Dark Lord'sHorcrux. Should others discover she possessed knowledge of this secret, it would spell tremendous danger in future. Lys resisted the urge to touch her left forearm, redirecting her hand to gather Gabon instead.
Lowering her gaze, she gestured toward Friedm beside her, casting a warming charm, then bestowed one upon Draco as well.
"Let Draco escort you to ride broomsticks. You two can determine whether your skills match the boasts in your letters."
Seeing Lys truly harbored no concerns and being genuinely tempted by the prospect, Friedm finally clutched his wand and departed to ride broomsticks with Draco.
As they walked out, he consoled the somewhat crestfallen Draco:
"Don't take it to heart—Lys treats me thus from sheer habit. What you don't realize is that when I was smaller still, Lys would simply seize my collar and cart me about everywhere."
Lucius arched an eyebrow. Indeed, quite true—he could certainly attest to that.
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