Lys pressed her grayish-white left hand against the pages, raising her wand with her right to fire a Stupefy at Lucius, who'd come running at the commotion.
Spotting the shadow on the polished door panel at the entrance, she grimaced slightly, sensing this might prove troublesome.
But she resolved to deal with the thing beneath her hand first.
She lowered her gaze back to the diary. The handwriting was elegant—even the speed at which letters appeared felt soothingly measured.
However...
"An opportunity? Pity. You could've had one—if only you hadn't touched my brother."
Lys's left fingertip traced across the parchment as she sighed. "I didn't want this originally. I wanted to avoid all trouble. I thought..."
Her right hand's wand tapped lightly, opening the armguard on her left arm.
"I thought I could remain uninvolved with you forever."
Lys's tone had carried uncertainty, but seeing the words materializing on the pages, she burst into loud laughter.
"Ha! Yes, exactly!" The laughter echoed so loudly it reverberated through the room. "I'm also a Death Eater—this is your mark upon me. I once called you my lord, knelt at your feet like a bloody dead dog!"
Lys twisted her wrist to examine the faded Dark Mark, her mood darkening.
"But so what?" Lys's tone turned questioning. "What of it? When I have the power, I say yes when I choose yes, and no when I choose no."
Lys's left hand remained pressed against the book. Watching words appear across its surface, her right hand spun the wand in a casual circle.
"Even if that's true..." Lys tilted her head. "What's it to you?"
"Were your true form here, perhaps I'd tremble and prostrate myself immediately. But you? A magical construct—a discarded fragment surviving only by playing dead."
Lys's mockery seemed to strike some hidden nerve of the words' owner.
The script appearing on parchment grew increasingly sloppy, invisible pen strokes turning sharp and vicious, as if some enraged presence sought to tear through the paper and claw its way free.
Two rings of intricate symbols on Lys's left arm expanded slightly, hovering above her pale skin whilst rotating slowly. The book beneath Lys's fingertips suddenly released a hoarse, agonized moan.
"Lying low for greater benefit—quite right. If necessary, I'd choose to lie low as well."
"I've chosen dormancy before and won't abandon the advantages it might bring in future."
Lys expressed agreement.
But...
"You shouldn't have touched my brother."
"Those who took your things should serve you—but our family took nothing!"
The book beneath her fingertips emitted an even stronger reek of fish and decay.
The gradually stripped "life" allowed Basilisk venom—which the tome had barely been resisting—to spread rapidly through every page.
Words appeared frantically across blank parchment.
Temptation, threats, deception—every manipulation imaginable.
Undeniably, those words pulsed with genuine allure.
And Lys was indeed tempted for that fleeting instant.
But the two symbols that constantly made her soul shudder coiled around her arm, maintaining her clarity. Her momentary desire died swiftly.
Until the magic secretly competing with hers vanished. Until corrosive holes spread across the cover, piercing through every page.
Dark brown liquid seeped out in spreading patches, staining Lys's fingertips. Only then did she release her left hand and exhale in relief.
Lys raised her fingers. A kitchen towel flew over, meticulously wiping the putrid fluid from her fingertips.
Her right hand waved the wand lightly. After the armguard fastened its own clasps, the discarded glove flew up and settled in her palm.
Having tidied herself and donned her gloves, Lys gripped the dripping book in her left hand whilst her right levitated Lucius. She smiled at Narcissa, who'd been attempting to rouse him.
"Senior, summon the house-elf."
Seeing Friedm resting peacefully in her upperclassmen's bed, sharing covers with Draco, the frigid killing intent surrounding Lys finally began to dissipate.
"Senior, nothing happened tonight, did it?"
Narcissa nodded, face pale. "Indeed."
"My senior has always mourned the Dark Lord's disappearance. He won't be angry about my actions, will he?" Lys knew Lucius had perpetually missed the benefits the Malfoy family had enjoyed during Voldemort's reign.
"I guessed whose possession that was, but Draco is our only child." Narcissa's complexion remained ashen, yet her eyes blazed with surprising intensity. "Fifi, you must not resist anything this guest does."
Lys's smile felt hollow until Narcissa permitted memory modification without resistance. Only then did Lys's expression gain some authenticity.
Senior had always perceived situations more clearly than her male counterpart and proved superior at concealing her thoughts.
Observing Friedm lying beside Draco on the bed, Lys delivered a vicious kick to Lucius Malfoy beneath it, then reconsidered and drove her fist hard into his face.
"Useless git."
"Spoken wishes must be fulfilled? Without my brother and me here, he wouldn't even get the bloody chance to voice his wishes again!"
Lys drew a sharp breath and massaged her temples, suppressing violent impulses before simply abandoning him on the floor.
Whatever he'd think upon waking tomorrow to find himself sprawled there with a bloodied nose—Lys couldn't care less.
After examining both children's conditions and confirming that aside from weakness, she could handle all remaining magical residue, Lys kicked Lucius once more before escorting the boys back to their rooms.
She could scarcely imagine what those two children's fragile souls and life force would've endured when that soul fragment discovered blood and flesh sacrifices could no longer repair its damage!
At breakfast the next morning, Friedm and Draco sat listlessly with drooping heads. Lys heaped their plates high. "After eating, read a bit then sleep again."
The utterly exhausted Friedm and Draco offered no protest, obediently finishing their milk before returning to bed. Draco kept rubbing his arm as he departed.
He felt as though he'd arm-wrestled a dragon last night—else why would his arm and hand ache so bloody much...
Fortunately, the book had distributed pressure between two children.
Unfortunately, the book had distributed pressure between two children.
"Senior, that bruising on your face complements your eye color beautifully. I'm confident it won't fade for a month." Lys set down her utensils and offered sincere praise before departing.
Lucius appeared puzzled and suspicious. He rather suspected his facial injury hadn't resulted from tumbling out of bed as he'd assumed, but from Stalys striking him...
Why was she so bloody gleeful about his misfortune?!
Leaving the dining room, Lys nodded to Narcissa, who was studying the corridor portraits.
Narcissa returned the courtesy, then continued pondering. She perpetually felt the number of portraits in this hallway seemed somehow incorrect...
Finally, she decided to have Fifi retrieve two additional paintings from storage to hang...
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