Ever since Bellatrix had blatantly stared at Lys's belly and declared the little dumpling was her child, Lys had genuinely managed to control herself—she hadn't sneaked a single sweet treat since.
However, once her weight dropped to a certain point, it simply refused to budge further. The withering potions used to guard the Horcruxes, along with the subsequent healing draughts, had inflicted severe, irreversible damage on Lys's body.
Lys even made another trip to St. Mungo's, where the enthusiastic young healer from the Potion Residue Ward once again summoned her bald mentor.
The final diagnosis was simple: only time could help now.
Reviewing the analysis, the bald healer sighed helplessly and cautioned Lys: "Young woman, magic isn't omnipotent—but the damage magic inflicts on a wizard's body is irreversible. You need to develop a realistic understanding of your physical condition."
From Lys's expression, the healer could tell she was the type of patient who knew exactly what she was doing wrong but chose to do it anyway.
He sighed, glancing between his bright-eyed student and Lys: "As your healer, my professional ethics compel me to recommend hospitalization. Your potion usage has been far too extreme—you need someone to guide or supervise your medication."
Lys looked at the young healer's hopeful expression and shook her head. "I'm about to go abroad. I can't abandon this opportunity."
The young healer's eyes grew round and bright, as if she wanted to persuade Lys further, but her mentor raised a hand to stop her.
"In that case, there are several medication protocols you should be aware of. My student will explain the reasoning, and I'll provide supplementary commentary."
Lys nodded and accepted their advice.
Returning home to gaze at the beautiful suits in her wardrobe, Lys let out a long, weary sigh from deep in her throat.
She could only rely on time to purge the potion effects from her system...
After mustering her energy to shuttle between the German and British wizarding worlds, sorting through various affairs, Lys finally earned a brief respite after a month.
Just as she was preparing to savor some long-overdue rest, a house-elf summoned her to Malfoy Manor.
Lucius, Snape, and Lys stood in the manor's courtyard, staring bewildered at a sack of materials—smuggled goods that had cost them dearly.
Lucius claimed ignorance; Snape insisted the merchandise was wrong.
Unable to reach agreement, they'd called in Lys, since she'd been the source of these goods.
Lys sighed. The weather was growing hotter by the day, and all she wanted was something cold to eat—even just a couple of ice cubes—then to collapse on her bed, not to be summoned hither and yon.
"You two are absolutely clueless," Lys mocked.
Snape arched an eyebrow. Since joining the Death Eaters, it had been ages since anyone had spoken to him so dismissively.
"Senior Lucius has only seen the finished product—the powdered version. And you've only seen illustrations in books."
Lys pulled out a handkerchief to dab her perspiration and explained to Snape: "Wu Lingzhi is simply flying squirrel droppings. What's so strange about that appearance?"
"Feces! Isn't this supposed to be some kind of fat or oil?" Lucius summoned a house-elf with disgust, requesting a damp towel to clean his hands.
"Ah, that makes perfect sense then. The odor is quite reasonable." Snape calmly wiped his hands and began changing the subject: "Every time I've encountered you recently, you've appeared unwell, and I never see you wielding your wand. If you're not pregnant, what exactly is wrong with you?"
Lys waved dismissively: "Don't even mention it—it makes me furious! I don't know who spread the rumor that I was pregnant and had given birth, but that madwoman Bellatrix showed up at my house trying to steal my little brother! Absolutely ridiculous! Can't she have her own children?!"
Lys clenched her fist, her substantial hand shaking menacingly. "If I ever catch whoever started that rumor, I'll definitely smash their nose to pieces!"
Lucius, who had been wiping his hands, suddenly cleared his throat before saying: "You have a little brother now? Congratulations."
Lys narrowed her eyes at Lucius, but he merely continued cleaning his hands with distaste. "Your father..."
"Oh, if that brat dares disrespect my dad, I'll beat him myself." Lys's expression was impassive.
Even though... being a werewolf, that inescapable shadow, wasn't fair to any child.
As the atmosphere grew heavy, Lys changed topics: "I do have some good news, though."
Finally, a hint of a smile appeared on Lys's face. "You can address me as Miss Lam from now on, hehe."
Lys said cheerfully: "Tomorrow I'm going to the Ministry to update my surname."
Actually, the wizarding world didn't have extensive name-change procedures. As long as magic recognized it, any previously recorded magical signatures would automatically update.
Everything else just required a Ministry registration—or even that wasn't strictly necessary—but Lys intended to go anyway.
She wanted to bid farewell to 'Black'—seriously, ceremonially.
Lucius and Snape exchanged glances, both calculating silently. Snape responded: "So you'll be Lam in the future, and your brother will inherit the Black surname?"
If so, aside from that fool Sirius Black who'd been disowned by the family, the Blacks would have another blood-recognized male heir.
"No, he'll also be Lam."
Lucius, who had been contemplating something, suddenly fixed his gaze intensely on Lys's eyes and asked in shock: "What? You're not planning to let him be a Black?!"
He tried to detect some hidden motive in Lys's expression, but only saw thorough disgust.
"You must understand—if we trace bloodlines upward, even without official recognition, he would still be one of the next generation's legitimate Black heirs! Do you realize what kind of fortune that represents? Have you considered this? Has your family?"
Lucius was somewhat incredulous.
But Lys's next words extinguished his doubts.
"What kind of fortune? However vast the fortune, it no longer belongs to the Black family. What would such wealth bring? My... attitude toward the current situation—surely you both understand it clearly."
Lys tugged at her sweat-dampened wizard robes. Even though it wasn't particularly hot, she was perspiring heavily. "Can't we go inside to continue this conversation? I'm exhausted."
"Speaking of which, what exactly is your physical condition?" Snape asked as they walked forward.
Of course he knew Stalys couldn't possibly be pregnant—anyone bold enough to brew with Bagrada beetle venom wouldn't be able to carry a child to term even if she conceived...
His previous teasing had merely been retaliation, since he'd suffered countless frustrations at her hands and always wanted some revenge.
Lys simply waved her hand as usual: "Don't want to discuss it."
Due to Lys's decisive "don't want to discuss it," the matter of her health wasn't raised again.
The three sat in Lucius's study discussing German affairs.
"Although this collaboration was initiated jointly by the Malfoy and Karkaroff families, due to certain undeniable realities, the German nobility are still the primary leaders. Therefore, Stalys, your attitude and approach must be firm when necessary—this is crucial. There are also several other points requiring your attention."
Lys stretched out her arm, tore a sheet from Lucius's notebook, then picked up the decorative white peacock feather quill from his desk, dipping it in ink: "Mm, go ahead, senior."
During their discussion, they also reviewed some of the Dark Lord's recent activities. Lys sat listening as Lucius and Snape conversed.
The Dark Lord had deployed giants to attack a famous Muggle city, even directly destroying its landmark buildings, but he was deeply dissatisfied because Dumbledore had immediately disrupted several of his plans.
This prevented his intended show of force from achieving its desired effect.
Their conversation concluded with Snape's warning: "Be cautious in all respects—the Owo family is completely dead." After a simple meal, the three dispersed.
Just as Snape was about to leave the room, Lys suddenly called out: "Severus, have you ever considered trying a suit? You'd look absolutely magnificent!"
Lys gazed enviously at his lean waist wrapped in wizard robes and cloak, then touched her own belly.
"Heh..." All she received was a figure with dramatically tossed hair and billowing cloak striding away.
Lys grabbed a handful of Floo powder, shrugged, and said regretfully: "Suits really do look wonderful."
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