Lys's sudden outburst caught Dumbledore off guard. His previously interlaced fingers spread across the desktop as if he momentarily couldn't find words.
"Sirius made grave mistakes. I questioned him—he never disputed the charges. Azkaban represents his penance for over a dozen lives lost."
"So what exactly did he gain when his mother delivered him to your care? You didn't intervene because he wouldn't argue back—because you didn't believe him. You didn't trust a Black! Regardless of whether he deserved that trust!"
Lys continued without pause: "Had you truly involved yourself in this matter, the Black family case files would be far clearer and more conclusive! Whatever mistakes he may have made, the current situation shouldn't exist—no reliable witnesses, no solid evidence..."
Her face contorted with disgust: "What sort of evidence is a single bloody finger?!"
"Our birth and breeding mean we cannot afford costly kindness—we can't be good people, or we simply won't survive long enough to matter."
"If I can't be ruthless when necessary, what am I? A powerless advanced potioneer, a werewolf, and the Black family's final prize."
"Augustus mentioned you find blood-stained hands unacceptable—so what precisely are you asking of me!"
Since you cannot provide me adequate security, what right have you to demand I choose between black and white!
"Lys..." Friedm's worried voice interrupted as she felt her sleeve being gently tugged.
Lys abruptly ceased her tirade, straightened her robes, and settled back into her chair. She even selected a biscuit from the plate and bit into it deliberately.
"Forgive me—these matters rather destabilize my emotions."
She twisted the ouroboros ring on her finger, swallowing the sickeningly sweet biscuit without flinching.
"I'm thriving in Germany. I'll make choices that better serve my interests. I remain at Durmstrang precisely because I require Karkaroff's protection. Should that day truly arrive, you needn't concern yourself with my ultimate allegiance until all other options are exhausted."
Dumbledore steepled his fingers, his expression unreadable. Over recent years, he'd encountered Lys at various gatherings. Though they'd never conversed deeply, he'd heard whispers about her activities.
Stalys Black's intellect might not be extraordinary, but her magical prowess was formidable among her generation. Most critically, she was lucid yet extremist—ruthless yet tender-hearted.
Dumbledore couldn't predict the chaos she might unleash.
The familial devotion he'd once admired in this child had transformed into her most volatile weakness.
His gaze dropped to observe the black-haired, grey-eyed boy watching his sister with obvious concern, and he smiled faintly.
He noticed the small star at Friedm's waist—which had twinkled brilliantly during daylight—now pulsed weakly.
"I received your sister's letter mentioning you'd chosen Durmstrang. Might I inquire why?"
Dumbledore shifted topics whilst extracting biscuit crumbs from his beard.
Friedm glanced at Lys, and seeing no reaction, replied: "Because Durmstrang's approach to power is more honest."
Dumbledore considered this. "Because they teach the Dark Arts?"
"Yes."
The affirmative response clearly disappointed Dumbledore. He shook his head gravely. "Entrusting power to children who lack complete self-understanding proves extraordinarily dangerous."
"Until the moment of choice arrives, who truly comprehends themselves? If we don't understand power from childhood, when we encounter such forces, our knowledge remains inadequate. How could we possibly learn to prevent unnecessary harm?"
"Petrificus Totalus and Diffindo can kill just as effectively. I don't believe the Dark Arts are inherently evil—they're simply pursued and overused by individuals with muddled thinking because of their devastating potential."
Dumbledore studied the child with startled suspicion before returning his attention to Lys. "Your student?"
"Nobody in our family taught him this philosophy—heaven knows where he developed such ideas." Lys gazed down at Friedm's head.
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I was just considering whether to entice you away from Durmstrang for our Defence Against the Dark Arts position, actually."
After chuckling, he drew a deep breath and his amusement faded. "Child, I simply hope you won't choose a path you'll ultimately regret."
Lys remained silent.
Friedm muttered: "Those were Lys's words anyway."
Lys didn't acknowledge this, maintaining her silence.
She and Dumbledore clearly held different opinions about which outcomes might inspire regret.
Following this uncomfortable pause, Dumbledore said nothing further, merely continuing his conversation with Friedm. He poured pumpkin juice for both visitors.
Friedm sipped his curiously before abandoning it entirely. Lys never touched her cup.
Eventually, Dumbledore replaced both untouched drinks with hot chocolate.
Somehow their discussion drifted to Lys's academic record and former House. Friedm wondered whether he'd share his sister's House affiliation.
Dumbledore suggested he try the Sorting Hat.
Only after securing Lys's consent did Friedm don the ancient hat, perching on the sofa. Thirty seconds... one minute... ninety seconds... two full minutes...
Just as Lys prepared to yank the hat from Friedm's head, the Sorting Hat announced hesitantly:
"Hufflepuff."
Friedm scowled upon removing the hat, asking Dumbledore whether he could be re-sorted. Both Dad and sister belonged to Slytherin—how had he ended up in Hufflepuff?
Was Hufflepuff even respectable? Why did Lys appear rather pleased?
"Hufflepuff—the House I most desired after fifth year." Lys sighed wistfully whilst patting Friedm's head. "I'm not consoling you—that's absolutely true."
After Lys finally manufactured an excuse to depart with Friedm, the Sorting Hat spoke from its perch: "Albus, I nearly placed him in Slytherin. Deep within his heart, he shares remarkably similar qualities with his sister."
Dumbledore, however, was absorbed in studying case files, lost in contemplation. Finally glancing toward Lys's vacated chair, he shook his head. More pressing matters demanded attention—he needed to focus on the attacks plaguing the school...
Exiting Hogwarts' gates, Lys glanced back toward Dumbledore's office before shaking her head and Apparating.
Regardless of their elevated positions or brilliant minds, they invariably harbored fixed, immutable convictions.
Understanding this weakness, Lys always sought to extract herself before situations became irreversible.
Lys considered today's Hogwarts visit well worth the considerable risk. Her own performance might have been somewhat calculated, but Friedm's behavior—that had truly earned them valuable points.
She observed the slightly anxious Friedm. "Go ahead, eat your sweets. Next time we visit Britain, I'll purchase more."
"Lys, you didn't like that gentleman, did you?"
Lys shook her head. "I neither dislike nor particularly fancy him. Don't mention this visit to Mum and Dad, understood? Having been here once, he likely won't persist in seeking me out."
Friedm clutched his box and wand, nodding agreement. As they walked, the small star at his waist flickered intermittently.
Hey readers! 👋
Great news! HP: The Stellar Witch [OFC] main storyline is now complete on Patreon!
And that's not all - we've got 4 exclusive bonus chapters in the works that you won't find anywhere else!
Enjoy the read, and thanks for being awesome! 💫
👉 Join on -
patreon.com/DarkGolds