Chapter 118: One-One-Eight
After forcing herself to eat a little, Lys checked on the condition of the Hippogriff again.
While her treatment methods and approach still had flaws, the creature was now able to shakily stand, and its wounds had begun to heal.
Forget treatment plans—just ask if it's alive or not.
The injury on its tail was particularly severe, and it would take some time to scab over. Lys instructed Hagrid to bandage the Hippogriff's tail when he returned, then wrapped herself in a black fur pelt and headed back to the castle.
The fur was so long that Lys had to fold it over several times at the collar to prevent its edges from dragging on the ground. Gaboon coiled around her shoulder, its head proudly perched near her ear.
Even as she trudged through the snowy terrain, Lys felt quite cheerful. She mentally reviewed the problems she had encountered the previous night, considering invisible barriers and potential improvements for better responses.
Once back, she planned to record all this in her notebook. Perhaps by the end of the year, she could even test her theories on herself.
Thinking about this, Lys allowed herself a rare smile, which startled two passing younger girls into gasps.
It couldn't be helped—Lys had inherited the striking features typical of the Black family. Every member of the Black family, without exception—even that stupid dog—was considered handsome.
In the wizarding world, children's appearances were often more influenced by the dominant bloodline, so Black family children nearly always had black hair and gray eyes, without exception.
However, the other half of Lys's bloodline came from the Ram family, which was equally ancient and strong. This gave Lys a hint of exotic charm in her appearance, along with her short, rust-red hair that set her apart from others at school.
After returning to the castle, the two girls began asking around in their common room about the upperclassman they had seen—a red-haired, gray-eyed student with a sharp nose, thin red lips, and, most importantly, carrying a snake!
One girl argued, "I think it was a senior girl!"
The other confidently replied, "It was definitely a senior boy! He was wearing men's pants and a shirt. And did you see the way he walked? Oh my God, so aggressive—I love it!"
One of the girls, who was Muggle-born, said Lys resembled a deity from Greek mythology. She even pulled out a mythology book with an illustration of a red-haired Valkyrie that bore a passing resemblance to Lys.
Despite their heated debate in the common room, the girls couldn't determine whether they had seen a senior boy or girl, or which house they belonged to.
While they remained clueless, others were not. Eralabor, sitting on a nearby sofa, listened to his younger housemates' infatuated chatter with a mix of amusement and exasperation, struggling to suppress his laughter until his cheeks hurt.
Meanwhile, upon returning to the castle, Lys's first priority was to write down last night's experiences in her notebook. After ensuring she hadn't missed any details, she rushed to the kitchen.
Hagrid's cooking was only enjoyable for his little creatures and himself.
The house-elves were highly sensitive and could sense the lingering traces of dark magic on Lys. Though fearful, they remembered her as the kind witch who gifted them yarn.
Trembling, they brought Lys a large tray of food. One elf took the unfinished cloak Lys had brought and used house-elf magic to complete it, proudly displaying the finished product to her.
Lys gratefully thanked the elf and gifted it a leftover piece of white crystal from the previous night, transforming it into a necklace with a Transfiguration Charm.
Although the elf refused to accept it, Lys insisted, saying it looked beautiful when worn.
"This is an accessory, not clothing—it's fine~" Lys explained.
The overwhelmed elf fainted on the spot. Lys then took out a handful of crystals Hagrid had looted the previous night and distributed them among the other elves.
After eating her fill, Lys retrieved the Christmas gift Eralabor had given her—a shiny lunchbox. The house-elves, now brimming with enthusiasm, packed the lunchbox to the brim.
They even gave Lys several fresh beef bones to take back, as this young witch enjoyed cooking her own meals—a fact the elves had come to accept.
Back in her dormitory, Lys began searching for a specific book she remembered containing information about processing bone materials for magical purposes. Which book was it?
She pulled out all her books and started flipping through them. Although she had read many books over the years, Lys could still recall roughly what each one covered. Finally, she found it—Modern Techniques for Magical Material Processing, a book Snape had given her in her first year.
Towards the end of the book, there were descriptions of highly complex processing methods for preserving certain properties of bones for potion-making.
Lys started taking notes but found herself unsatisfied. These methods fell slightly short of her goals, and she needed to experiment further.
After her experiments, all the beef bones were boiled in a pot and eaten over two days, along with the food packed in her lunchbox by the elves.
On the next Hogsmeade weekend, Lys planned to acquire materials closer to human anatomy for her experiments. But first, she had to figure out where to get them.
She spent the entire morning wandering around the village, recalling how Evans had scolded Snape last year, warning him not to visit shady places...
Hmm, where exactly are these shady places?
With no other options, Lys donned her cloak from Knockturn Alley and a full-face mask, making herself look like anything but a good person. She intended to visit the apothecary she had frequented before to inquire.
Halfway there, a sleazy-looking man stopped her.
"Hey, I've got something special. Wanna take a look?" Lys was familiar with this type—just like the vendors in Knockturn Alley selling contraband.
"I need a dried human arm, preferably a left one. Got any?"
The man immediately crouched and looked around nervously. "My dear patron, you can't talk about that in the streets! If you buy me a drink at the Hog's Head, maybe I can help you find what you need."
Lys followed the man to a shop with a sign depicting a blood-dripping shroud. She glanced at the thick layer of grime and grease on the windowsill before nudging the door open with her shoe.
Inside, a chaotic mix of smells assaulted her senses—tobacco, alcohol, and even the stench of dirty socks.
The bartender, an elderly man with piercing blue eyes, glanced at Lys and her companion before resuming his task of wiping glasses with a filthy rag.
Lys paid for two glasses of whiskey, levitated them with a charm, and found a corner to sit in, waiting for the man to elaborate on how he would procure her materials.
In truth, Lys was simply impatient. If she weren't in a hurry, she could have visited Borgin and Burkes during the holidays to make her purchase.
After two minutes, Lys lost interest in the man's bragging about how difficult the task was.
"Here's the money—for ten left arms. Don't pretend you don't know where Borgin and Burkes is. The rest is your labor fee. By sunset, I'll be waiting here. Deal?"
The man froze, realizing that the cloaked figure in front of him wasn't some naive prey but someone who knew the ropes.
Still, she looked like a student—a rookie ripe for exploitation. He grinned and reached for the money pouch, only for Lys to pin his hand down with her whiskey glass.
"The money stays here. Goods first, payment second. If you can't do it, I'll find someone else."
Seeing the figure's imposing demeanor and subtle smile, the man knew he'd have to settle for a modest profit this time. Still, a profit was a profit, so he agreed with a sycophantic grin.
Lys waited in her black cloak, clutching her wand. When others approached, she nodded politely and offered them simple beers but refrained from conversation.
The whiskey glass in front of her remained untouched.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
"8 amazing fanfics available on my Patreon.
Support for 250+ advance chapters:
patreon.com/DarkGolds"