Time had flown by again—several months passing in what felt like the blink of an eye. Lys sat in her office supervising Friedm's detention lines, punishment for getting into yet another scuffle.
A massive owl swooped through the window, perching on the sill with obvious exhaustion. It shook out its feathers with dignified weariness, extending one talon expectantly.
Lys tapped her finger lightly, and a grey mouse from Gabon's treat cage launched itself through the air, attempting to trade for the letter clutched in the owl's grip.
But the owl dodged deftly, using its wing to shield the correspondence and prevent Lys from claiming it.
It hooted softly toward Friedm, and only then did the ink-stained boy glance up from his tedious copying. "Oh! That's Draco's eagle owl!"
The owl finally spread its wings, releasing the letter to accept its well-earned payment.
Seeing Friedm reaching out with ink-blackened fingers, Lys casually flicked her wand. "Scourgify."
"Mind the time with tonight's copying. If I complete too much for you, your professor will grow suspicious."
Lys continued her meticulous examination of Gabon's scales whilst warning Friedm against writing novel-length replies.
Following the serpent's intricate patterns, she moved her fingers methodically, checking every inch. Recently, Lys had taken Gabon to its African homeland—partly to oversee the local wizards' material collection, partly to give Gabon a proper homecoming.
Upon their return, however, Lys had discovered parasites infesting Gabon's scales. The only natural remedy for snakes was shedding their skin entirely.
But Gabon, having evolved into a magical serpent with an extended growth cycle, wouldn't shed again for heaven knew how long!
This discovery had Lys so frustrated that she'd spent the past fortnight obsessively examining Gabon's scales—even during lectures.
Her students, who normally feared Lys's icy demeanor, actually found this behavior rather endearing.
After all, the stark difference between how Lys treated her family versus her students was so pronounced that the poor pupils had nearly developed psychological trauma from her cold stares and oppressive magical presence.
They'd never imagine that this assistant professor, when emotionally stabilized by her medication, would secretly help her brother complete detention assignments...
Lys applied healing salve to wounds left by the parasites, then tilted her head to examine them from multiple angles.
When the magical flames in the fireplace finally guttered out, Lys lifted her attention from Gabon's scales and offered the serpent a treat.
"Finished with your lines? I'm clocking out, and you should return to your dormitory." Lys's reminder finally drew Friedm's attention from Draco's letter.
"Lys, I should've gone to Hogwarts after all! There's actually a Basilisk there!"
Lys's mind went blank. "What did you just say? There's what?"
"Lys, the Basilisk from Herpo the Foul's stories you always read me!"
Lys's expression hadn't been this fascinating in ages.
"Basilisk? At Hogwarts?"
"Exactly! I desperately want to see what a Basilisk looks like. Lys, Draco bragged that his Potions professor witnessed the Basilisk firsthand! I want to see one too—a real Basilisk! The books claim they even have crimson manes. I wonder if that's true..."
Lys barely registered Friedm's continued chatter. Her mind was entirely occupied with profound relief that she hadn't sent Friedm to Hogwarts.
Hogwarts... so bloody dangerous... Last year, a mountain troll. This year, a Basilisk.
God only knew what monstrosity next year would unleash...
She waved her wand to extinguish the magical flames, reminded Friedm about his detention work, then left her office key and took the Floo Network to collect Noah from work.
Standing in her family's materials shop, Lys finally emerged from her contemplation.
Snape had seen the Basilisk with his own eyes? Perhaps she could acquire some Basilisk materials from him.
She'd only heard legends of Basilisks—never encountered one personally.
A Basilisk... that had been her childhood dream...
Noah was cataloguing the African herbal materials Lys had imported, working methodically through crates in the warehouse.
He straightened from a particularly heavy box, massaging his lower back whilst recording his progress. As he locked up, he discussed recent fluctuations in material prices with Lys.
Observing Noah in his simple shirt and comfortable trousers, his face bearing the contentment of honest work, Lys felt satisfied and Apparated them both home.
The moment they arrived, Lys began composing letters, determined to extract some materials from Snape.
Partly to fulfill her personal fascination, partly hoping to display such specimens in the shop—this was utterly unique merchandise. Even without selling it, possession alone symbolized prestige.
That was a Basilisk!!
Snape's reply arrived almost simultaneously with Draco's response.
Friedm scowled at his letter. Lys frowned at hers.
"Scar-head?" "Potter?"
Friedm exclaimed: "Lys! Thank Merlin I didn't attend Hogwarts! They actually allowed a student to kill the Basilisk single-handedly!"
After folding his letter away, Friedm remained puzzled. "Why does Draco seem almost... envious? What's gotten into him?"
Lys reread her correspondence, suspecting her extended absence from English had caused some misunderstanding.
James Potter and Lily Evans's child could speak Parseltongue?
Parseltongue!
Lys's heart curdled with bitter envy. A Peverell descendant Gryffindor, born to a Gryffindor Muggle-born—how could he possibly speak Parseltongue...
Lys glanced at Gabon coiled beside her chair and clicked her tongue in frustration.
She continued reading: opening the Chamber required Parseltongue, and Snape had no desire for additional interaction with the "troll-brained Potter."
Lys propped her chin thoughtfully, automatically condensing Snape's lengthy, sarcastic tirade about Potter's recklessness whilst contemplating the possibility of using Gabon to access the so-called Chamber that had housed the Basilisk.
The thought of that precious Basilisk carcass rapidly decomposing in Britain's humid climate made Lys positively sick with waste.
"Friedm, have you finished your examinations?"
"Completed, but I still haven't finished my History of Magic detention essay."
Lys considered briefly, then tapped her wand against a stack of blank parchment, swiftly completing the assignment through Transfiguration.
She snatched up the parchment and marched into the adjacent office, slamming it onto the elderly professor's desk.
"You cannot continue this! That Friedm boy grows increasingly undisciplined—he sleeps constantly during my lectures!"
Despite his protests, the old professor sighed and accepted the completed work, then handed Lys a book. "I've been meaning to give you this for ages, but my memory isn't what it was."
Lys opened it briefly: "The Order of the Garter: Light Upon This Shore." The excitement she'd felt regarding the Basilisk immediately evaporated.
"I noticed you maintain a dedicated section on your bookshelf. You'll appreciate this volume—take it and read when you have time."
The old professor waved dismissively, returning to his enchanted knitting needles whilst continuing to read his history tome.
Lys said nothing, clutching the book and closing the door as she returned to her office.
She traced the faded gold lettering on the cover before slipping it into her shoulder bag, planning to read it when opportunity arose.
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