Lys stirred chaos within the Death Eaters' missions while transporting wizards to other countries.
Unfortunately, in the later stages, those ordinary Death Eaters consistently moved in groups. Lys lacked complete confidence she could claim their lives without leaving a single trace, which significantly elevated the difficulty.
During this period, some of the wizards she'd expelled returned to Britain and were recaptured, but those Death Eaters discovered nothing.
Because even when they destroyed a wizard's mind, thoroughly excavating all his memories...
Lys had controlled them through the Imperius Curse—that required only a passing encounter... They couldn't possibly detect Lys, with her Outstanding in Transfiguration, playing a random passerby.
The magic that once made Death Eaters terrifying to the wizarding world now brought them trouble as well.
Originally, Lys assumed her little hobby would soon be investigated and suppressed again, forcing her to abandon it.
But unexpectedly, many people—or strange organizations like those claiming Welsh Green Dragons loved eating feet—attempted to claim responsibility for this, even imitating Lys's actions.
She'd inadvertently sparked a rescue movement... completely opposite to those filthy wizards who captured Muggle-blooded individuals in exchange for Ministry rewards...
Events too similar to previous incidents, even more vicious, with more serious provocative implications toward his faction, greatly displeased the Dark Lord.
He directly dispatched Bellatrix and that hunchback Wormtail. He demanded they and their subordinates summon him immediately upon detecting any trace during missions.
This represented enormous recognition—thus far, only Potter had qualified for such treatment.
At the meeting, the Dark Lord's words carried mocking regret as he sighed:
"This is the one who previously intercepted wanted posters and eliminated my Death Eaters. I'm certain this is the wizard attempting to plant a flag of resistance on my soon-to-be spoils of war. This wizard's magic is special, excellent, yes—but that's all. Oppose the Dark Lord? Only Death would embrace them with tolerance..."
As his words concluded, people at the table's end voiced agreement, expressing mockery toward the mysterious wizard.
Lys sat quietly on the steps behind their conference table, listening.
Well, her little hobby was ending once again.
But she still possessed a batch of wizards unconscious in caves who required transportation out of the country.
While disposing of them, Lys went to observe distant Nurmengard.
Her freedom to be herself—though she didn't possess it now, she had to make herself believe she did.
The freedom of her freedom, the freedom she carefully protected—the Cruciatus Curse?!
Her Fred had once declared behind closed doors he could perform better than Draco and Lucius, but he didn't want to. Lys didn't want to either.
That wasn't what they desired...
Lys even noticed herself unconsciously staring fixedly at the Dark Lord and Bellatrix's figures.
The decision she'd wanted to force herself to make while intercepting Death Eaters seemed right before her eyes.
The last time she'd been like this... was Fenrir Greyback.
Standing at the edge of Nurmengard's dense forest, Lys unconsciously approached that high tower, close enough to clearly see the elderly wizard at the entrance wearing that triangle, circle, and vertical line symbol on his robes.
After all these years, he still guarded there, waiting for a figure to emerge from the tower in his heart.
What about me?
Lys stood there questioning: What exactly am I guarding?
What am I guarding?
Merely keeping my family alive, preventing them from becoming bloodstains on carpets?
What have I actually protected?
That home hidden away, trapped in courtyards?
The Cruciatus Curse falling upon Fred?
Myself wandering among Death Eaters like an imbecile?
Lys stared at her wand and whispered: "Expecto Patronum"
The silent wand informed Lys she hadn't recognized what she was currently protecting.
Her damaged soul prevented Lys from knowing whether she truly guarded something out of "love"...
But...
"It's not like this. What 'I'... want isn't like this."
"It's not."
The time arranged with Snape through that note had arrived.
Lys sat on Snape's sofa—broken since ten or twenty years ago—holding Gabon, silently watching the indifferent man before her.
It was merely a thought. Lys didn't know how to articulate it.
She wanted to find someone who'd fallen into circumstances similar to her own.
She wanted to judge the rightness or wrongness of her actions through comparison.
She wanted to convince herself her actions were reasonable because she wasn't the only one who hadn't chosen dejection under disgust and fear.
But she clearly understood such thinking was wrong!!
"Severus, are we friends?"
However, Snape ignored Lys, merely turning sideways and rolling up a manuscript in his hands. "If Miss Lamb has nothing urgent, please don't waste a busy person's time. After all, I'm not a 'dull fool' like you."
"Did you go see Lily Evans that night?"
Snape's turning motion made his now less greasy hair flutter gracefully.
Lys pointed at his right hand, which constantly gripped his wand. "Weather magic can cleanse every crevice, but if your fingers and palm keep clutching your wand, it can't clean underneath."
"Are we friends?"
Lys attempted to make her expression and gaze appear friendlier as she regarded Snape.
However, Lys noticed Snape raising his wand.
"Don't waste your effort. You know that even if your magic is many times more skillful than mine, my magical power is incomparable to yours, isn't it?"
Lys felt her gaze was very friendly, but to Snape it wasn't—those gray eyes held the indifference and madness he'd only seen in Death Eaters' and the Dark Lord's eyes.
He glanced out the window, remaining silent for a long while before ceasing his wordlessness.
"That was merely youthful attachment I couldn't release. The Dark Lord knows..."
"No, no, Snape! No!!" Lys didn't even use Snape's first name. "No! If you couldn't release your youth, you wouldn't feel no guilt toward Dumbledore, who sheltered your pure youthful lily."
"Your behavior is too normal. You don't display any of the disgust, hatred, or post-killing manifestations Draco described! I don't detect anything different. Your soul must be complete and unscarred—that doesn't align with your claims!"
Lys could barely express what she wanted to convey, but Snape didn't seem to care.
"Starlys Lamb!"
Snape was growing angry. He pointed his wand at Lys.
"I've declared my loyalty to the Dark Lord countless times. Lily Evans was merely my youthful past, which the Dark Lord knows. What are you attempting to accomplish?!"
Hearing Snape's questioning, seemingly squeezed from the corner of his mouth, Lys was equally confused.
"I don't know what I want to do either, Severus. I don't know."
Lys ignored Snape's raised wand and Gabon's hissing, throwing herself into that broken sofa.
Lys was about to cry. She actually truly knew what she wanted to do, but she didn't dare say it!
She didn't dare speak. Even though she'd actively asked Snape if they were friends, Lys still didn't dare voice it.
She didn't dare!
Even if Snape truly shared similar thoughts with her, would he really act upon them?
Would he?
"I don't know either. I thought..."
Lys bit her teeth, hesitated a moment, but still spoke:
"I thought you could betray the Dark Lord... for your love."
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