Chapter 71: Seventy-One
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Lys's bloodshot eyes burned with dryness as she slowly turned her gaze toward Madam Pomfrey. "Madam, if it's not absolutely necessary, may I return to my dormitory?"
Madam Pomfrey sighed, her brows furrowed as she looked at Lys.
How could anyone explain this situation? To those boys, it was just a flower. But to the girl, the pain wasn't even the worst punishment.
"Madam, they knew it wasn't just a flower to me. How they relish seeing someone they dislike unhappy, even miserable. They stand in the corridors, laughing at those humiliated and hurt by their pranks. Can you truly claim ignorance of their actions, Headmaster Dumbledore—the one who governs this school?"
Lys's unstable magic heightened her sensitivity to "feelings," making the conflicting emotions of those present a chaotic storm in her mind. That lack of acknowledgment from them made her uncomfortable, and her words carried a sharp edge of provocation.
"Bullying the weak, ganging up on the few, always watching from the sidelines until the end—Headmaster Dumbledore, are you really unaware?"
Lys grabbed a bottle of magic stabilizer from the bedside table and downed it in one gulp.
The surge of magic made Dumbledore frown. He did have this flaw—always wanting to observe a little longer, to wait and see, ever since his youthful impulsiveness had faded.
"Stay here and rest. Poppy will take better care of you," he said, stepping back. "I'm sorry I failed to understand your pain, child. Goodnight."
Lys watched the headmaster leave.
The experimental notes were right: Headmaster Dumbledore's greatest arrogance lay in making dictatorial judgments through a narrow lens.
Goodnight... What nonsense. Lys couldn't sleep at all.
She sat on the bed, facing the waning moon outside, cradling her left arm, still wrapped in silver light. Pain? What did it matter... Someday, she would make those people taste the bitterness of losing what they treasured, of having what they cared about trampled upon.
Today, her mind had been too clouded to remember the disguise spell on her wand, causing her curse to fail. But perhaps it was for the best. If Potter had died, she would have been expelled. That would've been a waste, wouldn't it?
Gubang, seeing that Lys was awake, finally spat out the now-silent flower, which had become an ordinary lily.
Madam Pomfrey brought over a vase, placed the flower in it, patted Lys's shoulder, and returned to her office.
---
The next day, Lys ignored Madam Pomfrey's attempts to persuade her to rest and went to class.
Walking through the common room and heading straight for the dormitory, Lys noticed some senior students nodding to her in acknowledgment. She paused, giving them a second glance, but offered no response and went directly to her dormitory.
After this incident, Snape no longer looked at Lys with his usual impatience. In his eyes, she had evolved from a sugar-and-muscle-obsessed fool to a simple-minded idiot.
The change was evident in his actions—Lys no longer had to bribe him with potion ingredients. He even voluntarily lent her post-class notes.
"Well, if I may be so fortunate, the book you mentioned earlier in your research…"
During the fight, Lys had gained a clear understanding of the wizarding world's attitude toward dark magic, particularly that of its leader, the greatest white wizard.
This wasn't Knockturn Alley, where dark magic could be justified. Here, all dark magic was inherently evil, regardless of intent.
If Snape wanted to study such magic, he would first need guiding texts, though this need could not be openly expressed.
This History of Magic class was shared with Ravenclaw. Even the most studious students had their heads down on their desks. In the corner, Lys and Snape sat unnoticed.
Lys observed Snape without speaking. The boy no longer bore the hopeful, eager, and prideful defiance of his early school days. His pale complexion and prominent nose gave him a more sullen and restless appearance.
Tugging at her own tattered robe, identical in its shabbiness to Snape's, Lys finally answered, "Sure. I've finished that book. I'll bring it to the common room after class."
She then slumped over her desk, flipping through a book on the Patronus Charm under the table.
The book documented the history of Patronus Charm users since the discovery of Dementors. The first half systematically explained the spell's origins, its potential evolution from runic texts, and its casting requirements.
Lys had practically memorized this section, yet the most she could achieve with the spell was a wisp of silver smoke from her wand. She found it baffling.
Recently, Lys had been avoiding crowds. Unable to sleep at night, she now had no place to nap during the day.
Whenever people were around, she could sense fragments of their emotions. The chaotic "feelings" left her tense and irritable.
Even in the library, she would be overwhelmed by the frustration of students struggling with assignments. It was exhausting every single time.
As a result, Lys often took borrowed books to read under—or in—the beech tree.
When Snape confronted her in the common room, claiming he had finished and fully understood the book, Lys sensed a rare joy from him. It was the kind of pure happiness she felt when baking cookies in the kitchen.
After casually discussing the book's contents with Snape, Lys hesitated as she reached for the next book. She held it tightly without handing it over.
"Teach me."
Snape glanced at her sideways. "I believe our Miss Black is already quite accomplished and has no need for guidance from a novice like me, does she?"
In other words, he wasn't interested in teaching her.
"Perhaps... I mean, if I can ever find you, Miss Black!"
Lys didn't let go, and Snape relented.
---
The Potter group had been discharged from the hospital. Initially, few knew the true reason for their hospitalization, assuming the notorious troublemakers had injured themselves celebrating Gryffindor's victory.
But rumors began circulating from within Gryffindor. In the common room, Sirius Black declared that if Stalys Black wasn't related to the "Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," he wouldn't believe it.
He called Stalys Black a lunatic, just like his mother.
This led to a running joke at Hogwarts: Sirius Black claimed Stalys Black was his mother.
But the group couldn't argue otherwise. To dispute the claim, they would have to reveal the real reason—how they had stolen a Slytherin flower and nearly gotten themselves killed after Gryffindor's victory.
And they weren't about to stoop so low as to invent another lie.
By the time the truth spread, no one cared anymore.
After consulting Professor Sprout, Lys took the Singing Lily's bulb as her own. The price was Gubang spending the entire weekend catching slippery bugs in the greenhouse.
Watching Gubang bounce around like a springy sausage in the empty greenhouse all day, Lys found herself in a surprisingly good mood.
Occasionally, she would discuss the complex theories and spells from those books with Snape in an abandoned classroom. This prompted Snape to question her.
"From what I've observed, Miss Black, you're not exactly a lover of academics. Your progress seems more instinct-driven than anything else. If studying pains you so much, why torment your beastly instincts?"
"Is something chasing you forward?" There was a hint of probing in his question.
Lys didn't catch on and ignored him, instead casting a cleaning charm on his potion-stained, greasy hair.
Scooping out a dose of magic stabilizer she had brewed for herself, she asked an unrelated question: "Is there any magic that can block sensory perception?"
Taking a large gulp of the potion—well beyond the normal dosage—Lys glanced at the displeased Snape. "By the way, I have a copy of Origins of Darkness. Interested?"
When she saw Snape's face twitch, she knew she had him.
Snape's expression darkened as if he had swallowed a mouthful of bubotuber pus. He hated being coerced. "I don't want to hear about you overdosing and ending up in the hospital one day."
After bottling the potion, he turned and said, "Occlumency. It's the only known defense against others probing your mind."
Seeing no reaction from Lys, Snape flung a bottled potion into her arms. "That's it. I don't know any others!"
As Lys turned to leave the classroom, he called after her, "The book…"
"Oh, of course, Snape. I'll bring it tomorrow. Though that spell you mentioned doesn't suit me." She had tried it, but it only left her more awake and with a worse headache.