In the corridor, Lys was silently reciting the timeline of magical history, along with the tongue-twisting names of ancient goblins and some Greek spellings.
She had only recently discovered that many wars in magical history lacked English translations, and during exams, she had to write her answers in ancient Greek!
No wonder her magical history grades had been so terrible in previous years. Using the wrong language—how could she possibly score well?
Barty Crouch was once again stirring up trouble, instigating a fight with the Gryffindors. They blocked the corridor, and several Binding Spells shot out from Lys's wand, tying up those who were about to fight. "Prefect! Prefect!" she shouted, not caring if anyone actually came. Lys left the bound troublemakers on the ground and continued on her way.
Time was tight, and Lys had ten subjects to prepare for. Since she had chosen Divination as an elective in her third year, it was included in her OWLs exams!
Sighing, Lys climbed into the tower attic. This was the Divination professor's office. During holidays, the professor liked to venture into the Muggle world, driving a carriage to tell fortunes. As a result, the office was filled with strange decorations: strings and feathered nets hanging from the ceiling, and goat skulls painted with colorful patterns.
The low ceiling and hanging decorations forced the tall Lys to stoop as she moved around.
"Professor, are you here?"
"You're the child without Sight. I remember you broke my teacup during an exam. So, what do you want?" The professor, lounging among a pile of cushions, waved to indicate her position.
Lys hadn't noticed her presence at first.
"My OWLs exams, Professor. But I've already forgotten everything about Divination," Lys admitted candidly. After all, the textbook was only a few thin pages, and even after flipping through it countless times, it hadn't helped much.
"Honesty, huh? Well, while those fools who look down on Divination are busy scheming how to fabricate lies during the exam, you came straight to me. So..."
For once, the professor wasn't drinking. She swiftly selected a crystal ball as large as Lys's head. "I can't help you, child. Take this back with you," she said, handing over the ball along with a dark green cushion for it to rest on.
"You don't need to return it. It's been gathering dust here for over twenty years—far too long. Oh, by the way, the exam includes palmistry. Take this book and study it!"
Lys carried the heavy crystal ball back to her dormitory. On the way, the troublemakers were still lying in the corridor, and the Gryffindor female prefect had just arrived.
Sitting in her dormitory, Lys stared at the crystal ball. Inside, a swirl of white mist began to rotate, but even after half an hour, it remained unchanged. Giving up, she opened the palmistry book instead.
When her vision started to blur, she knew it was time to rest her eyes. Otherwise, she might end up needing glasses, and she was quite fond of her excellent eyesight as it was.
After a lap around the Black Lake to relax her eyes, Lys decided to return to the castle to consult her professors about potential exam questions. After all, the holidays were only two days away, and once the professors left, there would be no one to ask.
As she climbed over a grassy hill, the scene below stunned her—a full-blown brawl between Slytherins and Gryffindors!
Altogether, there were about twenty people from both houses, with students from fifth, sixth, and seventh years. Two leaders stood in the center, wands raised in a standoff.
Lys hesitated for a moment before firing several red signal flares into the sky, directing one to crash into Professor McGonagall's office window.
The crowd below turned to look at the source of the flares. At the top of the hill stood a tall, slender figure, backlit so her face was obscured. However, the large snake coiled around her shoulders was unmistakable.
Among the crowd were Potter and his friends. Seeing Lys descend the hill, they exchanged glances, and a spell from Gryffindor shot toward Slytherin, reigniting the chaos.
Lys hadn't expected that even after her clear warning of informing the professors, someone would still provoke a fight. Shielding herself with several ultimate protective spells, she decided not to intervene directly. Her left hand hadn't fully healed yet, and further delays in recovery could jeopardize her exams.
But despite Lys's intention to stay out of it, stray spells kept colliding with her shields.
Professor McGonagall seemed to be absent. Half a minute passed with no sign of anyone emerging from the castle.
Stretching her neck, Lys couldn't help but shout, "Are you idiots? There's no need to swing your wands so dramatically for a Shield Charm! And you, the brown-haired lion—you're so close, just punch him already!"
"Oh my god, Regulus, don't be so gentle. Forget the Tripping Jinx; use the Full Body-Bind Curse!"
Occasionally, she deflected a spell with her wand. "Are you crazy, Thomas? Using the Blasting Curse on someone already petrified could kill them, you fool!"
Under Lys's watchful eye, the chaotic fight ended without major injuries, with only a few minor bleeding wounds.
Parched, Lys coughed. "Potter, and you, you stupid dog—don't think I didn't notice where those spells came from!" She brushed off her cloak, scattering fragments of shattered alchemical protections, and glanced mockingly at the Gryffindors. "You couldn't even break through my defenses."
Adjusting the brace on her left hand, she continued, "I won't report this to the professors. Let's just call it pre-exam stress relief. By the way, have you memorized the Transfiguration laws? Do you understand the differences between Dragon Blood Vine and Thorny Elder? Fighting?"
Sighing, Lys lowered her gaze. "After graduation, you'll have plenty of chances to experience real war. There's no need to fight to the death here in school. This might be our last safe haven before the war ends, don't you think?"
The recent newspapers were filled with obituaries, family alliances, and the downfall of certain families. Even though Lys rarely mingled with others, Hogwarts had only so many students. There were those whose families had been attacked, those who had lost their homes, and those whose family members had been bitten by werewolves or marked by Death Eaters...
Lys glanced at the crowd with mixed expressions, patted Gaben's head, and returned to the castle.
This semester, the constant probing from Slytherins had worn her out, but she responded with nothing more than polite smiles.
Looking back, she saw Dumbledore in his purple starry robes and blue pointed hat, wand in hand, walking toward the crowd. Lys nodded slightly at him.
She felt puzzled. "Why do you always let things unfold to test people's inner thoughts?"
But without waiting for Dumbledore's reaction, she left, speculating about who would end up on the headmaster's black-and-white list after tonight.
Thomas, with his lethal intent, was surely on the blacklist. That Gryffindor Weasley with excellent spellwork, and Regulus... Lys frowned slightly. His family openly supported the Dark Lord, and he even kept a scrapbook of the Dark Lord's speeches and photos. Yet, some of his actions and targeting seemed oddly inconsistent.
As for herself... she decided to put it off for now.
During the Easter holidays, Lys ran out of some materials, especially the rare Soul Stabilizer. Her failure rate was too high, and she didn't dare let anyone else brew it for her.
Staring at the clearly subpar potion before her, Lys swallowed it anyway. She couldn't stop taking it; otherwise, her soul would affect her arm, gradually reverting it to its distorted state from over a decade ago, undoing all her efforts and luck.
If not for the book "Curious Theories on the Patronus Charm," she wouldn't have understood the possible connections between memory, soul, and body. She would have continued carving and cutting, only to end up with a permanently twisted, irreparable arm.
As for that book, the Lam family's library could fill an entire tower! Being able to read it—wasn't that luck?
The subpar potion had significant side effects. Lys often had emotional outbursts, giving troublemakers unforgettable lessons. She even used magic to throw noisy students out of the library while doing her homework.
"Don't casually invoke the names of powerful wizards. Who knows what spells might be attached to them!" she explained reluctantly to a group of trembling first-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.
Those Gryffindors, on the other hand, kept shouting "Voldemort," thinking that invoking the Dark Lord's name was a show of bravery. Utterly foolish!
The Dark Lord wasn't called the Dark Lord merely for his oppressive rule and black reign. It was also due to his profound mastery of dark magic. He was, after all, a descendant of Slytherin!
Merlin knows what kind of things that bloodline has passed down...
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