Due to the inconsistency between Hogwarts and Durmstrang's teaching schedules, Friedm attempted taking the fifth-year timetable.
Friedm no longer attended classes with Draco, and Lys retreated back into her tent, unwilling to deal with the eager Hagrid.
Hagrid blinked his small eyes, peering at Lys through the tent gap as she rolled her eyes upward to look at him.
"...You know, I didn't mean anything by it." He shuffled his toes against the ground, asking somewhat sheepishly: "Can I come in to talk? Your tent looks too small from outside, and standing like this is rather odd..."
It was indeed odd. To keep the tent flap raised, Hagrid had been pinching that piece of fabric with two fingers whilst bending down to peer inside.
From a distance, it appeared as though Hagrid was about to lift the entire tent.
Squeezing into Lys's tent with considerable effort, Hagrid tilted his head to avoid the ceiling, glanced at the chairs with their delicate wooden legs, and chose to sit directly on the floor.
Lys flicked her wand. The chair cushion flew up, rapidly expanding and thickening.
Before Hagrid's bottom could touch ground, it wedged itself between the floor and Hagrid's rear.
Hagrid shifted his weight and relaxed considerably.
He fumbled through his coat pockets, extracting an enormous toad and placing it before Crunch.
Then he rubbed his hands together before speaking: "Actually, I'm genuinely delighted you and your brother came to keep me company, truly!"
Hagrid stared earnestly at Lys. Not until very late last night had he vaguely grasped why Lys was angry.
"But I can't feel happy because I submitted my resignation to Dumbledore. Though I don't want to leave Hogwarts—you know how much I adore this place—but undeniably, half my blood... my mother, a half-giant..."
Here Hagrid sighed heavily, and Lys watched a newspaper that had been blown to the floor, falling into silence.
"So I truly wasn't unwelcoming to you and little Friedm. I simply couldn't feel happy."
"Er..." He scratched his unruly head. "I heard about that business—your brother defending me and falling out with little Malfoy..."
"Little Malfoy really isn't good friend material. Harry often tells me about his misdeeds... even my Norbert—speaking of Norbert, that was a little dragon I raised four years ago. Malfoy reported it, and Harry helped me..."
Observing Lys's expression, though uncertain why, Hagrid wisely changed topics.
"Er... anyway, there's brilliant news." Hagrid puffed out his chest, shifted his bottom, and beamed as he told Lys.
"Yesterday Dumbledore informed me he'd rejected my resignation and told me to resume classes this Monday."
"I reckon Harry was right when he spoke with Dumbledore that day. I shouldn't flee from discrimination about my heritage. I should face it courageously and press forward."
Dumbledore?
Lys puzzled momentarily.
So Dumbledore had been present when Potter visited that day?
Well, Lys mused distractedly, indeed for these Gryffindors, Dumbledore's influence would prove more miraculous than Merlin's...
Seeing Lys's expression brighten, Hagrid grew cheerful too:
"My dad always said if people discriminate over this, then those people aren't worth fretting about. On that note, I reckon little Friedm could learn from Harry..."
Hearing her brother compared to the Potter boy—and from the tone, seemingly unfavorably... Lys felt thoroughly uncomfortable, though she'd done likewise herself.
"Malfoy isn't... If willing, Harry's more suitable... friend... I could introduce..."
However, the tent flap rustling behind interrupted Hagrid's rambling.
"Thank you, Hagrid, but I don't need that presently."
Friedm entered, clutching a teaching crow accidentally injured by someone in Charms class.
Whilst preventing the crow from flapping away, he asked Hagrid:
"The fifth-year schedule shows I'll have your Care of Magical Creatures tomorrow, Hagrid. I'm looking forward to it, but I want to know..."
Friedm attempted stuffing the crow—which had nearly lost half its head to a Vanishing Spell—into a cage.
"Have you prepared your lesson?"
As Lys had anticipated, she clashed with Moody again.
She once more sent Moody's artificial eye flying.
The reason: he'd demonstrated the Imperius Curse on students during class—and had even cast it on Durmstrang pupils.
This time even Dumbledore couldn't mediate effectively, because even Durmstrang didn't teach the three Unforgivable Curses... these were universally condemned throughout the wizarding world.
"I'm settling personal scores, Moody. Stop bloody staring at me with that magical eye..."
Lys wore dark green wizard robes, chin raised as she glared disdainfully at Moody's twisted features.
"If you're capable, raise your wand against me! Let's see if you can beat me!"
When the incident occurred, nearby Snape gave a peculiar, brief cough and departed, whilst Dumbledore and McGonagall, arriving later, sighed without knowing what to say.
The matter remained unresolved thereafter, and Moody ceased his constant verbal harassment and surveillance of Lys and Friedm with his magical eye.
Lys even heard him mutter: "If it weren't for more pressing matters..."
She genuinely despised this Moody.
Moody perpetually stared at her when her nerves were already taut from the Dark Mark becoming increasingly prominent.
As though allowing Lys—this Death Eater—to remain free and comfortable caused him excruciating pain.
This constantly reminded Lys that despite her current stable, peaceful existence, she still possessed a past that couldn't withstand scrutiny and an unpredictable future.
This rendered Lys more irritable daily.
Before the second task commenced, Lys only occasionally visited the lake surface to ensure Krum's safety during winter swimming, spending virtually all remaining time nowhere else.
When Friedm learned from Krum that the second task's venue was the Black Lake containing merpeople, he desperately wanted to see them too.
But under his own Bubble-Head Charm, he only lasted until spotting Grindylows at the lake bottom.
The following day he caught cold.
The Black Lake in January and February was absolutely... bloody freezing!
Yet even so, Friedm persisted in diving to find the merpeople.
The result: nasal congestion within the Bubble-Head Charm, plus vigorous limb movement for swimming. Friedm nearly suffocated himself underwater.
After being hauled up by Lys, who'd been constantly monitoring from the surface, he abandoned his underwater merperson-viewing ambitions.
On February 24th, when Lys sat in the spectator stands observing Draco's attempts to capture Friedm's attention, she offered no commentary—didn't even alter her expression.
She refused to let Friedm think she was hinting at anything.
So Lys stared straight at the lake surface until competition's end, applauding when contestants emerged from that tedious, motionless water.
Then she departed for her tent, awaiting the third task on June 24th.
She hoped if Draco was genuinely sincere, he'd exert greater effort.
After all, given sufficient time, some things grew cold.
After more than a decade, Lys nearly churned up the Black Lake again because Friedm had descended seeking merpeople and hadn't surfaced for half a day.
The merperson chieftain emitted sharp sounds, communicating with Dumbledore, who crouched nearby. Lys stood aside feeling somewhat guilty.
Dumbledore nodded, turning to inform Lys that these merpeople genuinely adored Friedm and understood such a delightful young wizard having someone who cared, but hoped Lys could employ gentler methods next time—since many of this year's food reserves had been overturned by Lys's single spell.
"Oh, and the Grindylows they kept at their entrance all fled. They hope you'll take responsibility for catching replacements."
Dumbledore observed Lys with amusement as she sighed with relief, then frowned again.
Lys frowned whilst calculating how many Grindylows to catch, while Dumbledore mused privately, hoping Starlys could remain as before. After all, people's choices often weren't what they most desired, but what circumstances demanded.
Dumbledore wondered what the Bones family's newborn would be named, then turned and departed.
For those numerous Grindylows, Lys was forced to learn swimming. Yes, swimming...
Mounted on his broomstick, Friedm watched helplessly as Lys proved utterly unable to dive underwater. "Lys, though I might catch them rather slowly, let me handle it."
After two days struggling in water without achieving free movement, the exasperated Lys equipped Friedm with sufficient protective gear and sent him underwater to catch those vexing creatures.
"Those Grindylows possess tremendously strong claws—they'll grab you. The protective gear prevents injury but can't force them to release you. You'll be unable to breathe. Mind whether your spells suit underwater conditions. Protect your head and Bubble-Head Charm. At any sign of danger, crush the emergency plate. Give me time for rescue—understood?"
Lys lay on a small boat atop the water, attempting to spot her brother through the murky lake. Beyond both Lys's and Friedm's expectations, he captured sufficient Grindylows for the merpeople within a single week.
Friedm, whose recent exercise had dramatically increased, sat before Lys's tent consuming his evening snack whilst describing the underwater fish-people's fascinating aspects.
He extracted green hair from his still-damp personal pouch:
"Look, Lys—merperson hair. Rather unfortunate this merperson wasn't particularly attractive, resembled... resembled that hideous Alastor Moody, but he was the strongest."
"He followed me constantly—probably feared if I got injured, you'd overturn the lake again."
Lys silently stuffed a chicken leg into Friedm's mouth, silencing him.
Then she claimed a chicken leg herself.
But this chicken leg never reached her mouth. Krum had been attacked, and Karkaroff had been thrashed by Hagrid for speaking disrespectfully to Dumbledore.
Listening to Krum's account from his hospital wing bed, Lys's head spun.
"Barty Crouch went mad, sought help finding Dumbledore, then vanished?!"
She glanced at Snape, who'd escorted Krum, and he nodded slightly. Though uncertain of his precise meaning, Lys hugged her arms and cursed in mixed German and English.
This greatly startled Krum, who only understood German.
"I'm fine, Professor Lahm. This injury won't affect my third task in a month!"
"This concerns you not. Rest properly—inform Madam Pomfrey if anything develops." Lys ignored Snape's increasingly dark expression and exited the hospital wing.
Friedm, following whilst clutching Crunch, gently tugged Lys as she descended the steps.
"Lys, that hideous bloke isn't right. He seems to be concealing something in the forest. He glared at me viciously—only when I mentioned you were coming to find me did he avert that eye. Also, Viktor said the mad old git who attacked him was that ugly bastard, not the minister."
Hearing this, Lys possessed no viable solution.
That Moody enjoyed Dumbledore's protection. Regardless of his actions, at most she could thrash him—then face retaliation.
Lys reflected that this time he'd even targeted her student. She genuinely couldn't fathom what her being a Death Eater had to do with her pupil...
Besides, he himself employed Unforgivable Curses...
Lys compressed her lips. Her head buzzed presently—she craved silence.
She perpetually felt that since the Dark Mark began growing more prominent, everything and everyone seemed somehow wrong.
Returning to her tent, she ceased all potentially attention-drawing activities.
Lys grew even quieter.
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