Lys wanted to relax herself. If the Dark Lord were present, her tense and erratic state could easily draw unwanted attention.
But the thought of feeding Nagini this afternoon made Lys queasy.
The putrid stench emanating from Nagini seemed contagious, always making some indefinable part of Lys's soul ache with profound sorrow.
Yet she couldn't resist her compulsion to discover whether her suspicions held true.
She examined her stiff, numbed left hand, forcing her fingers to rub against each other. Though her fingertips felt nothing, Lys could still sense the resistance created by rough scar tissue.
Those scars from retrieving the locket Horcrux from that potion basin... the lesson learned from attempting to uncover secrets and control fate...
Lys hesitated momentarily, but still carried yesterday's captured prey to Malfoy Manor.
Every time Lucius watched his junior skulk through his home like a house-elf, trailing after the Dark Lord's serpent, his skin crawled with revulsion.
Within this manor, only the werewolves Lord had summoned, some pledging dark wizards, and that despised wretch Wormtail ranked lower than her.
Even that pathetic creature earned a seat at the table during meetings, while Lys remained conspicuously absent from the hierarchy that defined Death Eater status.
Sometimes those not yet Death Eaters would attempt ordering Lys about after receiving mere scraps of Lord's praise.
But what terrified him more was how everyone—from the Dark Lord down to newly recruited Death Eaters—seemed to consider Lys's treatment perfectly normal.
Yet he distinctly remembered his junior's former reputation as a renowned materials dealer, her peculiar magic even gaining notoriety in certain circles.
Even incidents he couldn't definitively confirm, he suspected bore her handiwork.
Lys, possessing formidable power yet maintaining such subservience, remained utterly incomprehensible.
To this, Lys wished to tell Lucius: What connection exists between my actions under that identity and me as Lys?
Control your bloody mind—don't let wild speculation expose my disguise...
I simply want to maintain my quiet, stable existence. I consider you a friend who knows these things, but if you thrust me into danger and trouble, we can resume our friendship later.
Setting aside Lucius's bewilderment, Lys stood beside the courtyard fountain, watching Nagini pursue prey in sinuous movements, observing the serpent establish her ambush within the grass.
Those frigid reptilian eyes fixed upon the somewhat lethargic quarry. During the sudden strike and constriction, Lys heard bones snap with explosive violence.
Taking advantage of Nagini's relatively pleasant mood following her recent feeding, Lys extracted scale-maintenance ointment from her pocket and worked it between her fingertips.
Now to discover whether Nagini concealed something upon her body...
When Lucius returned from external business and reported to the Dark Lord that Dumbledore's organization had prompted various Ministry departments to establish checkpoints blocking Death Eater operations—though through his efforts, former colleagues would soon return to serve their master—his forehead began perspiring from the Dark Lord's ominous silence.
With bowed head, Lucius glimpsed the lustrous Nagini gliding across the floor.
Pale, elongated fingers draped beside the armrest tapped the serpent's raised head twice. Lucius watched those snake eyes suddenly pivot toward him and immediately collapsed to his knees.
He understood this prison break had dragged on far too long, but he was moving as swiftly as possible while ensuring the Malfoy family retained their voice in wizarding society and their position beside the Dark Lord...
After staggering from the room, Lucius forced himself to straighten and maintain his aristocratic bearing before those scum attempting to mock the Malfoys.
Only upon seeing Lys rip up his drawing room carpet and direct house-elves to replace it did he sink wearily onto the nearby sofa.
But Lys merely tossed him a pain-relief potion in silence and departed.
This left Malfoy alone in the space where he'd once proudly entertained guests, nursing the agony following his encounter with the Cruciatus Curse.
Lys's presence at Malfoy Manor remained perpetually elusive—everyone had grown accustomed to that tall, gaunt figure materializing and vanishing without warning.
Only during the Azkaban prison break did those Death Eater reserves led by Lucius realize the person they'd mocked daily through word and deed was ultimately a Death Eater herself.
And since all Death Eaters were personally chosen by the Dark Lord, each possessed qualities superior to others—qualities that couldn't be surpassed.
This one clearly wielded considerable magical prowess.
Of course, it would help if her magic distinguished between ally and enemy.
Among the ruins created by Lys's spells lay not only Aurors, but also the dark wizards who'd accompanied her...
Lucius covered his face—scraped when his junior hauled him from the rubble—directing his followers to secure the surviving Aurors while unconsciously distancing himself from his somewhat unhinged junior.
Lys hadn't intended such exposure either, but the Dementors' presence here, combined with memories and anguish from her choice to rend her soul, made maintaining composure truly impossible.
Waves, bitter cold, hidden recollections stirred by Dementors.
If she couldn't act decisively, Lys feared she'd need to flee immediately upon leaving this island.
She wanted to slaughter everyone here!!
Nearby, Dementors listened to the Dark Lord's promised rewards at Lucius's somewhat cowering request. They expressed profound satisfaction.
As if celebrating, they began inhaling deeply, extracting what meager happiness and goodness remained in the air.
In that instant, everyone on the island felt their hearts seized by darkness arriving in the blink of an eye.
Including Lys.
She unconsciously whispered "Expecto Patronum."
But her wand remained lifeless.
She sensed her soul wavering, threatening to detach, yet binding force from her left arm anchored her in place, denying freedom. Unknown tension brought Lys's sanity to the breaking point.
But at the final moment, Lys heard a faint, tender "Brother..." drift from the adjacent cell.
Someone approached from behind, inquiring with minimal respect: "My lady, Mr. Malfoy appears to require your attention."
Lys closed her eyes and lowered her wand. "Tell him I'll be there shortly."
Recalling her environmental memories from her previous visit, Lys ventured into the depths of that oppressive stone edifice.
She ascended stairs nearly untrodden through countless years—ancient yet retaining distinct stone patterns and sharp edges.
Lys spiraled downward toward the maximum-security cells.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
📚 BOOK COMPLETED ON PATREON!📚
This story has reached its conclusion on my Patreon!
🔥 Full story available now
💎 Exclusive bonus content & early access to new books
👉 Join my Patreon community today!
[✨patreon.com/DarkGolds]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━