The courtyard lay in perfect silence, with roses and brambles that had lost all care growing both orderly and wild across half the space. Among the heady fragrance, bees and butterflies danced between the singing lilies.
The moment Lys stepped inside, she spotted Cocoa washing kitchen linens.
"Oh! Miss Lys has returned! The master will be absolutely delighted! They've gone to market to select provisions for the young master—they should be back any moment!"
Lys rummaged through the kitchen, finding it completely stocked. She frowned. Why make a special trip to buy food for that little pest when everything was already here?
After changing into practical clothes in her room, Lys picked up a cleaver and began cooking. Her first choice: ginger root braised chicken thighs.
The wild ginger from the jungle carried a heavy, earthy taste, and the fowl—constantly running and fleeing—had developed tough, stringy meat that even Lys sometimes couldn't bite through.
As kitchen aromas began to drift outward, wailing erupted from the courtyard. Lys's knife paused mid-chop through her salad. She didn't move, merely lifted her gaze from the tomato to peer through the kitchen window.
Driving her blade into the counter, Lys drew her wand and strode outside. Silver light flashed from the steel as she stood ramrod-straight beside the black-haired, grey-eyed boy with delicate features who was thrashing on the ground.
"Freedom... if you're going to carry on like this, you'd better have a genuine grievance."
Under Lys's dangerously narrowed stare, the boy shot up from the dirt and threw his arms around her legs.
"Sissy! You're back! I missed you so much!"
Hearing this, Senna folded her arms with barely contained laughter and retreated into the house. Noah explained from the side that Freedom wasn't exactly having a tantrum—he'd been in a scrap and was sulking because he hadn't managed to win.
"The thing is, his opponent was just a little girl with her Squib grandmother. Senna wasn't there, and I couldn't very well make a scene..." Noah looked rather sheepish.
"A fight? You lost?" Lys crossed her arms, scanning her brother from head to toe. No injuries—just disheveled.
"Don't worry. I can make a scene."
Noah watched his daughter march off with his son by the scruff of his neck. He covered his face but didn't follow. Too mortifying. Best leave it.
Sinking into the sofa, Noah picked up recent newspapers. The front page displayed ten wanted posters in neat rows, with one position cut away. Staring at the hole, Noah opened his scrapbook, which also held Lys's occasional letters.
He flipped to the final page.
Bounty notices! Several of them!
Others might not recognize her, but how could Noah fail to? That ostentatious wand inlay, that distinctive hair and eye color—Noah could mistake anyone but not this person. This was Lys.
The charges made grim reading: Interference in Muggle warfare, breaching dragon sanctuary protections and releasing dragons, illegal border crossings trafficking dangerous materials, resisting investigation and injuring Aurors, slaughtering ultra-endangered XXXXX-class dangerous magical creatures...
And these were only her documented crimes. Merlin knew what she'd done undetected.
Still, considering how she'd drag her brother out to settle scores, she probably wouldn't do anything truly unconscionable... would she?
Thirty minutes later, dust-covered Freedom strutted back inside, chest puffed with pride as he recounted his battle to Noah in broken German peppered with English.
Lys, meanwhile, brushed dirt from her sleeves and returned to cooking. She hadn't the heart to expose that the little pest's "heroic encounter" had actually been rolling about on the ground while clinging to his opponent.
Perhaps it was time to consider the little pest's wand. But her own craftsmanship wasn't quite up to standard—ever since Lulu's blackthorn wand, her creations had been rather... imperfect.
Better to raid Mother's inventory instead.
That evening, Senna monitored her cauldron, awaiting the potion's final reaction. Lys seized the moment to slip into the storage room, levitating numerous boxes. She plucked Freedom from his toy broomstick in the garden and hauled him into her laboratory.
"Sissy, what are we doing?" Freedom asked sweetly, dangling from her grip.
"Testing which wand materials suit you, so I can watch for them when I'm out."
"Oh. Are you leaving again, Sissy?"
"Yes. Take this and give it a wave."
Freedom obediently waved the wand. Its tip produced a few water droplets before falling silent.
"Sissy, can you take me with you?"
"No, it's too dangerous. Try this one—what's this? Walnut?"
Bright, perfect flowers bloomed from the tip. Lys frowned, noted the box's information, and handed him another wand.
"But Sissy, I miss you terribly."
Lys paused, selected a pine wand, and pressed it into his hands before embracing the candid child. "I miss you all too. I'll visit more often now."
"Really, Sissy?"
Lys thought of the letter she'd just read and hesitated. "If I like this job, then yes."
Freedom's young mind couldn't grasp the connection, but he beamed nonetheless.
Only after he'd tested every wand did Lys return him to his toy broomstick in the yard.
Lys studied her notes on the various woods and cores—a confusing mixture. "Still too early, perhaps?"
She closed the notebook, sent Freedom back to his flying practice, and reopened the letter Noah had given her that afternoon.
Menelaus Quaid had posted it a month ago, regarding the Durmstrang teaching position they'd discussed.
During her travels, Lys had maintained anti-tracking and concealment charms. Owls often couldn't locate her and returned empty-taloned.
Strangers' letters never reached her, while correspondence from friends arrived in batches via Cereborald at intervals.
Lys retrieved her various notes—research, combat, and that old crone's comments about her magical limitations and finding her proper place. Perhaps she truly needed somewhere quiet to study.
Besides, she owed the Karkaroff family a response to their overture.
And she'd been away from home far too long.
She spread fresh parchment and chose her words carefully, preparing to discuss this position thoroughly.
Lys understood that even the Karkaroff family couldn't easily place someone at such a prestigious national institution. Accepting meant she couldn't easily abandon the post until the next changeover or family notice.
The reply came swiftly—an invitation to meet and discuss details.
"Our ability to install Igor as headmaster demonstrates the Karkaroff family's influence, so your letter's concerns are unnecessary. You're not our only candidate, after all."
Menelaus Quaid had just finished with American Congress representatives and finally found time for Lys.
"You'll need to compete for this position yourself. The school board's dozens of old fossils are quite particular—we won't gamble with our nation's young people's futures."
"Your father's background doesn't help your case. I'll work to convince those old fellows. As for everything else..."
He glanced at Lys's haphazard, casual attire. "The interview is in one month. I look forward to your performance—my uncle and I have the highest hopes for you."
Having encountered countless people over recent years, Lys no longer wore her wariness openly as she had years ago. She expressed perfect gratitude and departed.
Inwardly mocking her self-importance, Lys shook her head.
She had no German roots, no entrenched interests—precisely what the Karkaroffs valued for reshaping institutional rules and atmosphere through her, wasn't it?
Otherwise, with so many people at their disposal, why would her turn come to enter their German school?
Noah was thunderstruck learning his daughter might become a teacher, jaw dropping.
Lys assumed he was delighted, but Noah actually found it incredible. Managing that smuggling operation with Lucy, the woman working for Lys, had shown him the Karkaroff family's true power.
He couldn't believe such a family wouldn't know his daughter's activities. He even flashed back to those times Lys had returned hollow-eyed during her Death Eater days, those moments when she'd dealt death...
Noah shook his head violently. His daughter had been forced into that! Look at their little pest—hadn't Little Star raised him well?
Apart from being hyperactive to the point of annoyance...
Watching Freedom zoom about the garden on his broomstick, Noah contained his shock and thoughtfully began preparing interview attire for Lys.
Little Star's current wardrobe didn't fit properly. She could hardly wear that years-old dragonhide coat—far too casual.
Meanwhile, Lys was in her room attempting to squeeze into her seventh-year suit. Even managing to force her arms into the sleeves, she couldn't fasten it, leaving her slightly dejected.
But feeling her increasingly healthy, powerful body, Lys dismissed that fleeting disappointment.
Being able to knock out a bear with one punch had its merits.
While awaiting the interview, Lys even wrote Snape asking about teaching—what it was like, what to expect.
The reply she received... well, calling it a reply was generous. Pure sarcasm throughout, mocking both his students and Lys herself.
Yet his correspondence with Senna about Wolfsbane Potion was entirely different—careful phrasing, courteous and respectful language. Complete opposites!
Pursing her lips, Lys suspected receiving even this sarcastic scrap of parchment was thanks to all the potion ingredients she'd sent over the years.
Merlin knew the lengths she'd gone to obtain those materials—some she'd had to slaughter fresh herself!
Setting aside the letters, Lys prepared based on her gathered intelligence.
Little preparation was actually needed. The day arrived quickly, and Lys traveled to Durmstrang through the Karkaroff family's fireplace alongside several other candidates.
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