Chapter 58

To Unlock Bonus Chapters:

Reach 50/100/200/400 Power Stones! 3 Extra Chapters!

Reach 800 Power Stones to activate NP!

Resets Weekly! [Monday]

—————————————————————————————————————————

Through the newspapers she frequently found in the common room, Lys gradually gained insight into wizarding ideologies and beliefs. However, she still struggled to accept their practice of praising the sun while concealing the darkness that lay behind it.

On one side stood Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, openly declaring their desires: We want wizards to reign supreme! We want power! We want benefits! - utterly unmasked in their ambitions.

On the other side were Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic, preaching equality for all, protective laws for Muggles, opposing tyranny, rejecting harsh measures, and standing against killing!

Both sides remained intransigent, like needle against awl.

Lys couldn't quite comprehend it. It was like meat at the dinner table - some eat it, some don't, right? Why did both sides insist on forcing their views on the other?

Finding no answers, Lys could only return to the library, though she now peeked cautiously around corners before entering. Madam Pince, back at her post, had become somewhat neurotic.

This manifested in even stricter library rules.

Chatting and any behavior unrelated to reading were now forbidden. Those caught would be chased out by Madam Pince, who wielded ink bottles and various objects as projectiles against offenders' heads.

Nodding a greeting to Madam Pince, Lys glimpsed the silver marks visible beneath her high collar and swallowed hard, then found her book and sat as far from the Restricted Section as possible.

Snape's mother had died.

Lys hadn't meant to eavesdrop.

She'd been looking for him to borrow his essays, but couldn't find him anywhere - not in the common room nor in his usual abandoned classroom where he brewed potions. With next Monday's deadline approaching, Lys had searched everywhere for Snape.

Finally, she discovered him behind a tapestry on the eighth floor, though not intentionally - the moving staircases had redirected her from her path to Professor Sprout's office.

The eighth floor had few classrooms on one side, just frustratingly maze-like corridors.

Lys had been checking every door hoping for guidance when she heard Snape's sobs from behind a tapestry in the corridor.

Standing frozen outside, Lys didn't know how to handle the situation. Should she offer him tissues for his tears and nose?

As long as Snape cried, she stood there, hearing fragments of memories and resentment about his mother filtering through - for someone unworthy...

For someone unworthy, she abandoned her child? A mother would abandon her child for her husband?!

This struck like lightning in Lys's mind, already lacking proper understanding of such matters.

Would Mom abandon me for Dad...?

Yes.

Lys knew she would.

She wandered almost deliriously before a ghost finally pointed her back to her dormitory.

For the following weeks, Lys practically split her time into fragments practicing spells and studying, but her heart refused to descend from her throat back to her stomach.

"Before they knew you were a witch, they were planning to get rid of you, weren't they?!"

Lys bolted upright in bed, that stupid dog's words haunting her dreams like a nightmare.

For the past half year, these words had circled her along with her physical discomfort.

Only Gaben's watchful presence provided some comfort.

At around 3 AM, unable to sleep further, Lys sat rigidly at her desk and began reading.

As long as she remained a witch, as long as she could succeed in Slytherin as her father wished, she wouldn't be abandoned.

Lately, Malfoy had been absent from the Slytherin common room, and Snape had stopped following him to his dormitory to read.

Then Lys heard the reason from Senior Carrow's harsh voice.

Malfoy's father had died while working abroad for the Dark Lord, contracting an incurable disease.

"Ha! Dragon Pox! The skin turns purple-red and rots - exactly what those Malfoys deserve! Good riddance! Abraxas Malfoy, dead in two weeks, how delightfully quick, haha!"

Subsequently, this tactless senior was found unconscious in the bathroom after class.

Everyone said it was Senior Narcissa's doing, and Lys agreed.

The shining Malfoy had lost his support, left alone to shoulder his vast family and business interests.

A barely graduated, not-yet-adult wizard bearing such burdens looked... composed, though barely maintaining it.

Senior Narcissa naturally wouldn't allow anyone to insult her fiancé, even if she didn't act personally.

After all, bathroom brawling hardly befitted noble behavior - while she might not have administered the punishment herself, she had almost certainly directed it.

Realizing that illness could so cruelly take away one's support, Lys became frightened.

She had always believed that with potions, even imperfect ones, people could be saved, but now she saw otherwise.

Many seventh-year students were graduating, which meant school clubs began recruiting new members, especially the highly anticipated Quidditch team selections.

This was arguably the most exciting event for all male students and half the female ones.

Lys couldn't understand it. Every school Quidditch match was grand, with even Slytherins wearing cheering accessories in the stands, faces flushed with excitement.

But wasn't it just people flying around, fighting over a non-flying ball, dodging flying balls, and searching for a golden one?

What was so entertaining about that? Lys had watched once and found it a waste of time.

The game only ended when the Seeker caught the Golden Snitch - she'd heard of matches lasting two weeks!

During that match, Lys had spotted the tiny golden ball three or four times, while both houses' Seekers seemed as blind as dung beetles, completely missing it...

She left before the match ended, unwilling to waste more reading time.

However, Quidditch player selection wasn't optional. With Slytherin's excellent Seeker Malfoy graduating, they needed a suitable replacement.

Almost everyone was dragged to the Quidditch pitch by the prefects. The team captain explained the Seeker's crucial role, how it was intrinsically linked to their victory and the House Cup's glory.

"So! Everyone, mount your brooms and show us your hunger for glory. Take off!"

In Lys's group, even the senior girls who considered broom-riding most unladylike managed to slowly rise.

Only Lys's broom hovered stubbornly at one foot above ground, refusing to climb higher.

Lys pulled up on the broomstick, but the one-foot height remained unchanged.

"It's not that I'm not trying," though I'm really not, I want to go back to reading, "but I got a 'D' in Flying class last year."

The prefect and Quidditch captain dismissed Lys with evident disdain.

Due to her fight with Sirius Black, Lys was assigned Saturday labor service, but being efficient, she had organized all materials by noon.

"Child, could you help me? Please fetch Snape for me?"

After circling the castle three times, Lys learned that Snape had accompanied Evans to Gryffindor's Quidditch tryouts.

Skipping his own house's tryouts to accompany someone whose blood status Slytherin found deeply problematic - no wonder he was ostracized and mocked.