Halfway through her reading, a black shadow flashing past the window caught Lys's attention.
She stepped out of the shop and followed for several paces, discovering it was that Greek smuggler she'd frequented during her school days.
Trailing behind, Lys acquired more peculiar oddities. She remained curious how he managed to obtain such items, but bound by protocol, Lys merely provided her shop's address.
"Keep any promising pieces for me. Price isn't a concern."
Though the weight of Lys's money pouch exceeded the Greek's expectations, he departed without even a courtesy—typical.
Lys didn't mind. His acceptance of her address represented possibility enough.
Weighing the egg in her palm, Lys allowed herself a slight grin. Snape had claimed the Basilisk's eyes back then—perhaps she could devise a trade...
Glancing skyward, Lys sensed approaching snow. She decided to purchase sweets for the children and acquire several bottles for herself—a rare moment of relaxation.
She Apparated to Honeydukes' entrance, but Lys had chosen poorly—crowds packed the interior, forcing her to release Crookshanks, who'd been napping beneath her cloak.
After successfully purchasing everyone's preferred confections, Lys also owl-posted Cockroach Clusters to Dumbledore.
Given such dense crowds, and to avoid Apparating atop someone, Lys walked to the Three Broomsticks, claiming a corner table and ordering two drinks.
You must understand—Lys abstained whilst working, abstained when with her brother, and these past days had been constant rotation between work and Friedm's company. She hadn't touched alcohol in ages.
"To rare holidays." Lys's glass clinked against the second drink with a crystalline ting.
Mid-sip, a Christmas tree beside Lys suddenly levitated, drifting to another table. Though Lys didn't particularly mind, she considered moving public semi-fixtures without acknowledgment rather poor form.
Still, rare holiday—couldn't be bothered arguing with children... After finishing, she'd need to return and supervise Friedm. That book from last time had left unpleasant impressions, making her question Malfoy Manor's security somewhat.
Lys observed the nearby child—bushy hair, unruly locks, Weasley ginger. Appeared third-year age. Smoothly levitating large objects demonstrated considerable talent.
Lys drank whilst absorbing gossip about Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Potter, and the Dark Lord.
Their discussion aligned with Lys's previous understanding. The Dark Lord had persistently sought the Potters' hiding place, and when the concealed couple was betrayed, they perished whilst their son somehow defeated the Dark Lord.
Everyone remained shocked because their betrayer had been Sirius Black—Potter's inseparable school companion who'd moved directly into Potter Manor after family disownment.
Later, when old Potter died and James married Evans, they'd found separate residences under Dumbledore's protection.
Lys smiled at this recollection. That stupid dog had inherited his uncle's estate then. Lys sometimes wondered how said uncle had died, whether Walburga had truly gone mad before perishing in Azkaban.
"Yes, we were certain someone among us had leaked secrets to him, and reflecting now, that person was Black."
Professor McGonagall's voice carried dejected undertones.
"Peter Pettigrew was undoubtedly heroic. He was blown to fragments attempting to stop Sirius Black. I hope the Order of Merlin, First Class brings his poor mother some comfort."
Lys recognized this speaker—Britain's Minister of Magic, an imbecile whose brain resided heaven-knows-where, though his sole virtue was accepting counsel reasonably well.
However, the Minister's next words shocked Lys further. Black apparently seemed fairly normal in Azkaban—even requesting newspapers for crossword puzzles...
Could he be the Black family member truly steadfast in Dark Lord loyalty?
Then what did Regulus—who'd died for his idealized Dark Lord—represent?
These complex emotions prompted Lys to drain another glass.
But wait—Lys shook her head. Beyond alcohol sloshing in her mouth, she heard—
"Harry?"
Whom was that bushy-haired witch addressing?
The legendary Harry Potter who'd defeated the Dark Lord at one?!
Glimpsing that messy black head disappearing, Lys emptied her glass, scattered silver Sickles across the table, cast a powerful Confundus Charm on herself, and pursued the children.
When her Tracking Charm vanished deep within Honeydukes' cellar, Lys felt genuine surprise.
She'd heard Hogwarts possessed numerous secret passages and mysteries, but hadn't expected actual external entry methods...
Lys dissolved the Tracking Charm when Potter reached Hogwarts' perimeter. This was the child Dumbledore had been testing during holidays—she couldn't risk provocation.
Returning to Malfoy Manor, Lys remained indoors, excavating years of Daily Prophet reports branding Sirius Black murderer and traitor.
Sirius—someone the Black family had sacrificed for greater interests, considering Walburga's madness...
Lys genuinely couldn't determine his actual guilt, yet recalling how he and Potter had been practically conjoined...
So what? Lys countered internally.
Hadn't Abraxas and the Dark Lord been close? The Dark Lord's Horcrux had wholeheartedly believed it would treat "Abra" wonderfully, attempting to convince her through this. How had that concluded?
Lys suppressed rising unease, nodding to Lucius returning with materials and inspection documentation.
"Friedm! Time to depart!"
"Coming! Draco, remember to write—I've sent so many letters, if you won't reply to all, at least half! Remember to finish modifying my designs quickly. Honestly don't know why you'd call my drawings ugly..."
Friedm descended the stairs whilst clutching his wand, chattering continuously.
"And stop fixating on that small furry creature. Remember practicing the Patronus Charm I taught you. Lys said Hogwarts is dangerous—you must protect yourself."
Lys covered her face. Why did this child reveal everything?
"Let's go!"
"Coming, Lys! Goodbye Draco—remember to write!"
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