Getting the hint, Lys immediately departed Malfoy Manor with Fred, returning to their sanctuary in the reading room. Gabeng visibly relaxed, no longer maintaining his vigilant position pressed against Lys's shoulder.
The little creature feared neither snakes nor danger—with Lys present, his courage knew no bounds. He'd even attempted to bite Voldemort himself.
But Nagini's ghostly appearances terrified him.
This confirmed Lys's darkest suspicions. Gabeng had reacted identically when confronting the locket and diary—those two Horcruxes she'd encountered.
Whether the serpent concealed something sinister or was something sinister, Lys felt certain: Nagini was Voldemort's latest Horcrux.
Damn Horcruxes...
Seeing her brooding silence, Fred grew quiet momentarily before brightening and bustling about the reading room.
"Lys, yesterday Draco announced in the drawing room that he'd make some wizard who'd insulted his family 'pay the price.' I managed to talk him down, reminded him that Uncle Lucius isn't here to protect him anymore—Aunt Narcissa only has him now." Fred organized their belongings with practiced efficiency. "I helped him in the greenhouse afterward... I still can't manage Obliviate properly..."
He chattered while arranging their beds and belongings, then dashed to the corner shop for provisions.
Over dinner, Fred chewed bread and carrots while passing Lys a crustless slice, continuing his complaints:
"I tried reasoning with Draco later, but he's wound too tight, too sharp-edged. Without Uncle Lucius, he's just a frightened child. He keeps emphasizing how much the Dark Lord values and trusts him—it's absurd. Yesterday exhausted me completely. His attention fixates on the strangest things. He asked if I was using Dark Magic learned at Durmstrang..."
Fred's expression grew sheepish: "But I was casting the exact same spells as him—I was just nervous!"
Lys chewed thoughtfully, having resolved to remain silent regarding Fred and Draco's relationship.
She'd realized Fred's mind often worked faster than hers, seeing situations clearly—provided he didn't overthink details.
When he did overthink... advice only made things worse.
That's why she'd told Narcissa to "forget it" after already offering to intervene.
Since Fred recognized what felt wrong, that sufficed.
"...Lys~ Draco's aunt is genuinely terrifying. Is she mentally unstable? When she—"
After finishing her meal, Lys wiped her mouth and poured Fred another glass of milk, earning pleading protests: "Lys, truly, can I drink it later?"
Lys simply stood beside him, bread slice dangling from her lips. Fred sighed and drained the glass.
"Lys, if wizards had signature flavors, I'd definitely taste like milk. Could I possibly drink two glasses fewer?"
His answer was Lys standing silently beside him, looking down with a provocatively raised eyebrow.
Fred sighed and gulped the allegedly growth-promoting milk, rinsed his mouth, then followed Lys as she Apparated them to a secluded forest for spell practice.
Fred's magic remained peculiar. His non-routine spells achieved bizarre connections between intention and result—tangentially related but rarely precise.
Yet at crucial moments, his accuracy became supernatural...
Lys couldn't evaluate this phenomenon. She could only guide him from alternative angles:
"If you can't guarantee spell precision, guarantee spell power! The Impediment Jinx can render opponents unconscious—try it..."
"Using Summoning Charms to deflect incoming spells isn't realistic for you yet. Don't attempt it. Focus on Transfiguration instead."
"Magic cast with harmful intent carries inherent attack power."
"Observe your surroundings, anticipate enemy intentions, and when necessary—club them senseless."
"Why that look? Attack means attack. Damage is good damage. I previously restrained you to prevent developing reflexive wand-swinging habits. You're a wizard facing other wizards, and spells happen in eyeblinks."
Lys even instructed Fred on human anatomy—which joints, when struck, would immediately disable opponents.
During instruction, listening to Fred's incantations switch randomly between English and German, Lys couldn't suppress her laughter. An embarrassed Fred chased her around the grove for several circuits.
During their rest, both lay beneath an ancient oak, watching light and shadow dance through the canopy.
Before settling down, Fred had gathered a bouquet of small yellow wildflowers, now clutched against his abdomen—planning to arrange them in their reading room's vase.
After several pointed glances, Lys finally swatted them away.
Fred's rigid posture while holding the flowers looked disturbingly funeral-like.
Though not understanding why, Fred pouted and tucked the flowers into his satchel.
They discussed Fred's spellcasting peculiarities, the afternoon sun filtering through leaves as they planned for challenges ahead.
"Your magic works differently than most wizards'," Lys observed. "We need to understand why before Hogwarts."
Fred nodded seriously, already anticipating the complications his unusual abilities might create in a school environment.
But for now, lying in dappled sunlight with his sister nearby, he felt something he hadn't experienced at Malfoy Manor: peace.
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