Gabon coiled tightly around her neck, the mounting pressure and its agitated tail-flicking finally snapped Lys back to awareness.
She released her left arm and silently followed Lucius out.
Once they'd left the notebook's range, Gabon relaxed somewhat. It tried to perch on Lys's shoulder but kept sliding down due to the fabric's texture.
Finally, Lys had to hold it tightly, which helped calm some of her panic.
She knew the Dark Lord absolutely had more cards to play than she realized. He was Slytherin's heir, someone who dared tear his soul apart for immortality, someone who had faced Dumbledore multiple times and escaped unscathed.
And who was Dumbledore? Since Grindelwald, Dumbledore was hailed by many as the greatest white wizard alive.
Moreover, Dumbledore had nearly fifty more years of experience and magical accumulation than the Dark Lord!
Fifty years! What did that even mean?
The Dark Lord was still at an age where wizards' magical power continued growing. This meant if the Dark Lord reached Dumbledore's age, he would be truly invincible! Yes, invincible...
Lys was confident enough to boast this on the Dark Lord's behalf!
This was the advantage bloodline and talent brought...
She might be running, but he was flying... even if no one knew where he'd flown to now...
Lys adjusted Gabon higher, took a breath, and decided to handle the present first.
Even if the Mark on her arm could never be removed, even as a Death Eater, theoretically she'd never escape that life.
But there were so many who'd escaped punishment by cursing the Dark Lord—one conspicuous example after another.
Even if the Dark Lord returned someday, she wouldn't be first in line for punishment.
Don't stand out, don't excel, and no one would notice you.
"Sigh..."
But she was just comforting herself.
Lys's arms gradually couldn't support Gabon constantly sliding around on her clothes, and Gabon's heavy body with only two arms as support points was clearly uncomfortable.
"Wingardium Leviosa." She raised her wand lightly, and Gabon floated up.
The levitation charm Lys cast had a subtle silver radiance, making Gabon hover comfortably beside her with an oddly luminous quality.
Watching Gabon relax so much it even opened its mouth to adjust its fangs, Lys smiled.
When returning from the Smith family, Lys bid farewell to Lucius. The Department of International Magical Cooperation had already approved Lys's application to use the International Floo Network.
She was about to return to Germany to clean up the mess that Ministry official had left...
Or rather, a bottomless pit.
Earlier she'd received a letter from Lulu, mainly saying Senna and Noah were perfectly safe with no problems.
It also explained the collapse of several partnerships Lys had previously managed, with massive compensation and overdue goods waiting for her in Germany.
"Upperclassman, I'm counting on you. My little treasury can't fill such a huge hole—you know what I invested before hasn't even broken even yet."
Lys looked seriously at Lucius, hoping he'd pay more attention to the goods.
Lucius simply gripped his newly maintained cane and nodded with dignity before saying goodbye: "I'll manage as best I can, but don't worry too much. With those greedy fools interfering, this route won't last long anyway."
Standing in the Malfoy family's fireplace, Lys lifted her suitcase to show she understood.
Under the emerald Floo Powder flames, Lys transferred to the Ministry of Magic's fireplace, then returned to Germany through the International Floo Network.
The moment she stepped out, she floated Gabon beside her—it simply couldn't stay perched on these clothes...
The first thing Lys expected after arriving was facing pressure from German nobles.
She'd even begun mentally rehearsing how to handle their demands.
But unexpectedly, someone she never anticipated was waiting at her lakeside cottage that served as her office front—
Menelquede Karkaroff.
"Seems the British Ministry of Magic isn't completely useless—they brought you back quite quickly. I helped myself to a bottle of your vodka. You don't mind, do you?"
Menelquede raised a glass of Lys's treasured vodka toward her, and she could see his pale face already showed signs of intoxication.
Lys glanced around—in the corner stood the two wizards he often brought along.
"Of course I don't mind. Wine is meant to be drunk, isn't it?"
Walking in to place her suitcase in the corner, Lys sat across from Menelquede. "So Mr. Karkaroff came personally—is there work business to discuss?"
But he didn't answer Lys's question. Instead, he tapped the table, had the bottle pour him a small amount, then slowly slid it over to pour Lys half a glass.
"Britain's weather has changed, yet you remain so composed," he sipped the vodka and squinted from the burn. "Any plans for development in Germany?"
"Certainly. Does Mr. Karkaroff have suggestions?"
"My uncle greatly admires you," he tapped his glass with his fingertip, studying Lys before suddenly asking: "Why aren't you wearing your previous style of clothing? Your self-management seems too relaxed as well."
Lys was preparing to hear what came after his uncle's admiration when this confused her.
One of the accompanying wizards coughed, and Menelquede's gaze became somewhat unfocused as he redirected the topic back to Lys's development in Germany.
"My uncle greatly admires you. He believes you're... young and capable, act with propriety, and being alone in Germany without entangling interests makes you perfect for tempering those arrogant children and young people."
Lys was somewhat surprised. She'd expected arrangements about Karkaroff family business, like being sent to Egypt.
"I don't quite understand." Lys was puzzled about what kind of tempering this meant. Have her fight their family's children?
Menelquede picked up his wine glass and traced patterns on the table, then looked up at Lys:
"In a few years, Durmstrang's leadership transition will begin. You possess qualities Karkaroff recognizes. If you're willing, I hope you can become a faculty member there."
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