Seeing Draco shake his head for no apparent reason, Friedm asked what was wrong.
Draco didn't mention what he'd just been thinking, instead organizing their schedule:
"I don't have much homework to finish, but it's rather time-consuming. You can sit beside me and read something first."
Then, as if remembering something, he turned back and dismissed the two hulking lads who were still munching fish crackers with honey-sticky fingers.
He explained to Friedm: "I honestly suspect they'd collapse and fall asleep the moment they set foot in the library. Reading and literacy are rather beyond them."
However, Friedm ignored this remark. Noticing that Hogwarts library provided parchment and quills, he took some and began writing according to Draco's assignment requirements.
An hour later, Draco, who'd been frowning in concentration, caught sight of Friedm's parchment and his eyes widened. He whispered in amazement:
"Friedm, your Potions essay will absolutely earn an Outstanding! You've barely cracked open a book!"
Draco examined it carefully, pointing to one ingredient's preparation method: "Haven't you got this bit wrong?"
Friedm shook his head and looked earnestly at Draco: "Lys is a renowned materials dealer in Germany. Though she calls herself a merchant, my mother's a master Potioneer." Shrugging, he continued: "I grew up beside my mother's cauldron and in Lys's shop."
After quickly jotting down the final few points, Friedm asked: "Is this really your fourth-year coursework?"
Draco didn't answer, just hurried to finish his essay and casually tucked it away.
"Fancy seeing our common room? Blaise and Pansy might still be waiting for me. We could have a proper chat."
Friedm carelessly stuffed his completed essay into his robes, then followed Draco to the Slytherin common room.
But Friedm didn't seem particularly interested in their conversation. His attention wandering, he soon picked up a newspaper from a nearby chair and began reading.
It wasn't until lunchtime that Draco realized Friedm hadn't spoken in ages. Glancing around, he spotted him clutching the newspaper whilst staring up at the giant squid plastered against the common room's domed ceiling.
Lys wore wizard robes bearing scorch marks from explosions, her hair frizzled and wild as she prepared to head to the Great Hall for lunch. Halfway there, however, Snape intercepted her.
Snape's expression was thunderous: "Your brother's had a run-in with the Weasley children because of Draco. Alastor Moody witnessed it—he's currently in McGonagall's office." As they walked, he suddenly added: "Did you tell your brother not to hold back if someone struck first?"
Lys didn't answer him, instead adjusting her gloves: "Is Friedm hurt?"
"He appears unharmed, but seems rather shaken."
Soon Lys's stride outpaced Snape's. Crunch, perched on her shoulder with his head raised, began bobbing up and down like a perpetual nod.
Rather shaken!
If this lad wasn't putting on an act, then this matter must be bloody serious indeed!
Remember—when Friedm had once used his wand to slash someone's throat open, he'd nearly burst into laughter.
McGonagall's office door stood open. Lys strode straight toward it.
She could hear Professor McGonagall repeatedly declaring: "Moody, we never employ methods that could harm students as punishment! I shall discuss this matter with Albus."
"So did Mr. Weasley or did he not mock Mr. Malfoy for being an unusually bouncing great white ferret?!"
But before Weasley could respond, McGonagall let out a second exclamation: "Good heavens, Black—er, Mr. Lamb—you and your sister are absolutely..."
As Lys stepped into the office, Professor McGonagall emphasized one particular word: "identical! I believe you need the hospital wing immediately."
Seeing the two scorch marks on Friedm's cloak from shattered alchemical protective gear and his disheveled, upstanding hair, Lys ground her back teeth.
Alastor Moody—that extraordinarily skilled Auror whose life she'd once saved at a Death Eater gathering.
Lys noticed Friedm kept touching the back of his head, whilst Draco's face still bore traces of lingering terror.
Drawing a breath, Lys fixed the nonchalant Moody before her with a penetrating stare.
"Alastor Moody," Lys spoke with deliberate slowness, "if memory serves, Friedm Lamb, as a Durmstrang student, should have our headmaster or myself notified of any incidents, shouldn't he?"
"But I don't believe you've done what you ought to have done."
Moody's face was a map of terrible scars. A magical eye twice the size of a normal eyeball trembled and rolled in his uneven socket as he stared at Lys and continued:
"Then both the rule-breaker and you should face punishment, shouldn't you?"
Hearing his nonsensical words, Lys reached out to touch the back of Friedm's head, then directly seized her brother's collar and marched from the office.
Her voice, suppressed with fury and carrying an icy edge, even cracked slightly from hoarseness as it echoed from the corridor into the office: "Moody, right or wrong aside, you can bloody well wait for the consequences... Draco! Out here—your Head of House wants you!"
Leading the two youngsters, Lys escorted them to the hospital wing. Watching Madam Pomfrey apply ice to Friedm, Lys's expression grew rather dark: "What happened exactly?"
Draco recounted the actions of this deranged Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
He'd once transformed Draco into a white ferret in front of everyone, bouncing him repeatedly against the ground. If not for the cloak chain Friedm had given him previously, Draco might well have been injured.
This time, whilst he and Friedm were discussing several British pure-blood families, "I merely stated some facts, and that Weasley charged over to mock the fright I'd experienced..." Draco complained bitterly.
"Friedm defended me, saying that madman—he meant Professor Moody—was wrong to treat students that way, and Weasley shouldn't condone it, but..."
Draco glanced at Lys then quickly dropped his gaze: "But that Weasley said Friedm associating with Slytherin students made him no better. I hexed first, but..."
"Right, I understand. What did Moody do?" Friedm wouldn't attack without provocation—Lys knew this with absolute certainty.
"He!" Draco spotted Madam Pomfrey approaching and lowered his agitated voice: "He cast a spell at me from behind a corner! I didn't spot him, but Friedm helped block it. Friedm was still fine then, but afterward that lunatic said something, then his spell sent Friedm flying. Friedm crashed out and smacked his head."
Lys's teeth ground together with an audible click, making Draco jump.
Madam Pomfrey then addressed Lys: "Stalys, what's happened here?"
"My brother."
"I can see that—he resembles you somewhat. I mean, how did he strike his head? This bump's no small thing. Must have been agonizing when it happened."
Madam Pomfrey wanted to trim some of Friedm's hair to make applying the healing salve easier.
"Young man, a hair-growing potion will have your hair back in no time. Nothing to fret about."
But Friedm was genuinely obsessive about his 'mane.' He resolutely refused.
"Lys, that hideous freak used lethal force! I'm still dizzy and nauseous. He only shoved me out to make me fall after he realized I was wearing protective gear!"
After a moment's thought, Friedm added: "I despise him!"
"Keep well away from him." Lys, recalling something, shot Draco a meaningful look: "You as well."
Both youngsters nodded obediently.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
📚 BOOK COMPLETED ON PATREON!📚
This story has reached its conclusion on my Patreon!
🔥 Full story available now
💎 Exclusive bonus content & early access to new books
👉 Join my Patreon community today!
[✨patreon.com/DarkGolds]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━