It wasn't until nightfall that Lys finished the sign in her hands. Since she only needed sound, form, and light effects, Lys's creation hadn't consumed too much time. She asked Friedm, who'd come to bring her dinner, "How's it look?"
"Absolutely..." Friedm considered for a moment, "...brilliant. So brilliant my eyeballs are about to explode!"
Yes, brilliant enough to make observers' eyeballs explode...
Lys's masterpiece had completely overshadowed the small workshop's advertising board beside it.
Utterly.
The owner of that advertising board had watched Lys's operation in stunned silence, never leaving. Only when darkness fell and Lys's board completely eclipsed their unremarkable advertisement did they mutter "It's finished, completely finished," slumping dejectedly beneath their sign.
Lys was still gnawing a chicken leg whilst listening to Friedm's aesthetic suggestions—which were somehow worse than her own.
Just as Friedm was confidently dispensing advice, he suddenly paused. "But Lys, have you considered this is a Quidditch match? Your potion advertisement seems rather..."
Friedm's mouth worked soundlessly twice. "Inappropriate, don't you think?"
Lys glanced up: "Right you are. Doesn't seem as fitting as that broomstick model advertisement beside it..."
"What's the bloody point of being appropriate when nobody can see it?" A nearby complaint caught Lys's attention. "I've sunk every Knut into this, and now it's invisible. Sob... Ah!" The speaking wizard actually began weeping.
His companion hastily attempted explanations whilst trying to drag him away—having witnessed Lys's entire advertising board process, they recognized the witch before them as exceptionally powerful and wanted no trouble.
But Lys intercepted them. "What if we combined our advertisements for display?"
The wizard crying with snot streaming down his face didn't react, but his companion immediately agreed. Refusing would waste this final opportunity entirely.
Ultimately, Lys labored through the night at that advertising board. By dawn, a broomstick model bearing a potion bottle had materialized.
A teardrop-shaped potion bottle hung from the streamlined, upward-curved broomstick handle, inscribed with Senna's name and the potion shop's address.
As the broomstick danced and tilted, the suspended bottle scattered silver light-droplets. Upon hitting the ground, the silver droplets' luminescence burst into delicate blossoms before contracting back into droplets, trailing silver streams as they chased the broomstick back into the potion bottle, awaiting the next cascade.
The sole flaw was this broomstick being tethered to that extraordinarily dazzling advertising board with an iron chain.
In morning light, Lys roughly tousled Friedm's hair as he clutched Gabeng, observing Noah who'd arrived with Lulu during the night.
"Off to bed with you. I'll study this further—see if I can remove this chain. My magical abilities still aren't sufficient."
Lys settled there with renewed determination.
Due to magical limitations, whilst Lys had transformed an unremarkable notice board into a crude flying broomstick capable of erratic flight, she couldn't impose area restrictions under tracking magic. After all, the more alchemical techniques and spells layered together, the more their mutual interference and mystical reactions exceeded Lys's control.
This meant removing the rope's other end from the potion advertisement would send the broomstick soaring skyward immediately, gravely violating this area's management regulations.
The administrator responsible for this section had been crouching behind Lys and the weeping wizard for ages.
By midday, Lys still hadn't resolved the problem, but the tearful wizard was thoroughly satisfied—this was simply the most attractive and eye-catching display of his broomstick model he'd ever witnessed!
He carefully thanked Lys extensively, his accented repetitive words quickly inducing drowsiness.
She waved dismissively and returned to her tent for sleep. En route, a moment's carelessness earned her enthusiastic licks from those two Crup dogs that suddenly bounded forth.
Lys, feeling she'd barely slept halfway, was gently awakened by Friedm. "Lys, Lys, may I find Draco? Or could I bring Draco to our tent?"
Lys checked the time—she'd slept five hours. Glancing through the room's window, the sun was already slanting: "Go ahead. Wait for me—I'll accompany you."
Lys rose and quickly splashed water on her face, gathering all her hair back with a hair band, then spun about seeking food in the four-bedroom, one-living-room space that seriously contradicted the tent's external dimensions.
"Lys, Lulu's roasted meat was delicious! I used a warming charm!"
Friedm showed off whilst opening his lunch box, revealing a piece of black charcoal within.
Silence pervaded the room, refusing to dissipate.
Lys's heart plummeted. She knew neither parent possessed significant magical talent—nor did she—but she genuinely hoped Friedm wouldn't follow suit...
"Friedm, answer me honestly. Did you practice magic this holiday?"
"I truly did, Lys..." You could see Friedm was equally bewildered. The roasted meat had been perfectly fine when he'd covered it.
He was experiencing rapid magical growth recently. Some spells in his hands still required additional practice for proper mastery.
After several false starts, Lys sighed: "Never mind. I'll purchase food en route and escort you to Draco."
Standing at a sausage stall, Lys consumed four or five sausages plus a butterbeer. Whilst surveying the area, she spotted Noah being closely shadowed by Lulu.
Noah appeared fascinated by various stall merchandise but kept dodging due to crowds—he still refused proximity to masses of people.
Lys positioned herself beside him, blocking the constantly surging throng, yawned, and inquired: "Dad, what are you purchasing these for?"
Lys observed with puzzlement the Bulgarian Seeker figurine in Noah's palm, which strutted bow-legged with hunched shoulders.
Noah appeared somewhat embarrassed. "Haven't encountered much like this before. Ahem, rather curious."
After accompanying Noah through purchases of curious trinkets, casting a powerful tracking charm upon him, and instructing Lulu not to separate whilst following Noah, Lys finally departed for the Malfoy family's campsite with some unidentifiable foreign snack in her mouth.
That campsite occupied the premium location relative to the match venue, resulting in rather dense tent placement with considerable foot traffic.
Lys navigated among bizarre decorations. Eventually, Friedm spotted the Malfoy tent among various tent peaks.
Lys observed the white peacocks before the tent, marveling that her senior remained her senior indeed—this pavilion didn't pale beside the miniature palace to the left or the four-story pocket building to the right.
Friedm, clutching his just-overdrawn two years' pocket money, called toward the interior: "Draco!"
Draco emerged with flushed face, still bristling indignantly as though recently scolded.
But Friedm's arrival considerably improved his mood. "Friedm! You've finally arrived! My father..."
"Quite enough, little dragon. I believe now that your friend's here, you should cease your complaints, shouldn't you? Go enjoy yourself with your friend. Mind your safety."
Lucius, who'd followed subsequently whilst leaning on his snake-headed cane, curtailed Draco's grievances.
Lys, shouldering Gabeng, waved at her senior, indicating his needn't worry—she'd supervise these two children.
Then she trailed behind the pair whilst mentally calculating tomorrow's advertising effects.
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