The gradually cooling wind made Lys cough slightly, reminding her she'd forgotten to take her medicine again tonight.
Fred had insisted she take her medicine on schedule—those soul stabilizers absolutely couldn't be stopped.
She muttered something while pulling her potion from her bag and pouring it into her mouth. The intake made her choke, triggering several violent coughs.
She knew she must look absolutely ridiculous right now, but no one was here to witness it.
She'd thrown so many things inside, yet no one had responded. Had Grindelwald died in there...
And that old guard couldn't even detect her presence...
Lys muttered more loudly.
She'd clearly tried her hardest.
She'd struggled from her teens through her thirties!
Now she was nearly forty!
Nearly forty!
Yet she still had to rely on playing the fool to survive. She couldn't even completely escape the Black family shadow on her own!
She couldn't even remove her brother from dangerous threats—he who'd exposed himself from concern for her safety.
"You said we should fight for the freedom to be ourselves."
But in this situation, if I can't achieve first place, are my efforts worthless—only throwing me into greater crisis and delusion?
The potion began taking effect. Lys's emotions and rationality gradually merged as she composed herself with feigned dignity.
Her initial loss of rational control had made her rush here without even verifying the information she'd gathered while admiring Grindelwald, or the authenticity of the list Fred's roommate had produced.
This made her feel somewhat embarrassed.
But she was genuinely concerned whether Grindelwald had died inside.
Almost violently dismantling the external protective measures, Lys carefully restored the wall she'd damaged.
Like when she'd tried to read the ghost professor's notes in seventh year, she observed her surroundings, then used a Flying Charm to step onto the dark tower's highest window ledge and climb inside.
That year she'd approached the podium and learned the more ancient concept of the Order of the Garter, gaining her Patronus.
Now she hoped this Grindelwald, who'd encouraged her for over ten years with a single sentence, could also provide some revelation.
Lys supported herself on the window ledge with her left hand, leaping inside like an agile black raven.
There wasn't even a single candle inside. The pitch-black environment made Lys frown.
She'd always assumed even a prison should satisfy basic human living needs.
But the alchemical lamp Lys threw into the room's center revealed the stark truth—except for stone walls and the two papers she'd thrown in, the place was completely empty.
"Uh..." Lys didn't know how to address Grindelwald momentarily.
"That... Mr. Grindelwald?"
Lys held her blackthorn wand slightly raised in her right hand, her left carefully pressed against her abdomen, rubbing off those dragon-hide gloves.
This way she could quickly draw her second wand.
She hadn't forgotten—Grindelwald was merely a figure from newspaper clippings she'd collected. He was the dark magic master who'd nearly overturned Europe.
He was dangerous.
But precisely because he was dangerous, Lys had harbored that absurd thought in her unclear mental state and come here.
What did she hope for?
Lys took a breath before that small wooden door.
She hoped someone would stand up like Dumbledore had and succeed.
Lys looked at the sleepy, toothless, emaciated old man in the blanket before her, peering inside with confusion.
"Uh... sorry to disturb your rest, but I wanted to ask, regarding Mr. Grindelwald... um... is he really still, um..."
Lys didn't know how to phrase it: self-imprisoned? Living here? Locked up here?
Or...
Still alive?
"Oh? An unexpected young visitor." The terrifyingly thin old man turned his face and lifted the threadbare blanket, looking toward the wooden door Lys had entered through. "Heh, quite violent methods indeed."
"So what brings you to see me?"
Grindelwald looked at this tall, thin red-haired girl with some confusion. Since he'd broken young Karkaroff's leg and chased him out, no one had visited for quite some time.
Oh, except for those who treated this place like a tourist attraction.
Though the stabilizer was beginning to work, Lys's eyes still rolled violently twice involuntarily.
Seeing the person before her, Lys couldn't help pulling out the newspaper clipping from her money pouch.
The slightly aged newspaper's photograph had its magic specially restored by Lys at the press office.
The man in the windbreaker still spun tirelessly, releasing fierce flames.
Then Lys looked up at the old man before her, and all her anger dissipated instantly.
Though the wand at her chest never lowered, both people present could clearly hear Lys sigh hopelessly.
Lys didn't know what to say, finally managing: "Dumbledore is dead."
"I know, young one. If you saw the person at the entrance when you came up, he repeats that sentence to me every sunrise these days."
He glanced at the photograph and wand in Lys's hands.
Sitting up, he straightened his clothes slightly.
"So, young one." Grindelwald looked seriously at Lys and her left hand. "What are you doing here? What do you want?"
He could see the wand in this child's hand bore Albus's techniques—even magical theory they'd researched together during their correspondence.
He wanted to hear whether this was another child favored by Albus.
"I just want to live quietly, earning what I deserve through what I accomplish," Lys glanced at the wooden door she'd dismantled, wand still raised. "But I can't achieve it."
"I didn't take my medicine tonight, so my mind wasn't clear when I ran here. I'm truly sorry for disturbing you."
Lys stared at Grindelwald's hands folded over his abdomen, then attempted to repair the door.
But the door was already quite decrepit. When Lys had dismantled the magic upon it, she'd used excessive force and pulled out even the hinges embedded in the wall.
She wasn't watching as she repaired it, so naturally didn't notice.
The door Lys first repaired fell straight to the ground with a loud crash. Only on the second attempt did she manage to fix it properly to fulfill a door's normal function.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Grindelwald assumed a more relaxed posture.
A child with chaotic magic throughout her body, bearing the aura of dark magic—and judging by that aura and condition, he could even determine this child had taken quite a few lives.
So what had made his Albus add such magic to her wand?
"Albus must have been very fond of you." Grindelwald's tone carried traces of desolation and bitterness.
Lys looked at his empty hands resting beside the bed—she knew he was demonstrating his harmlessness, but her wand remained raised at her chest.
"No, I simply never did anything he couldn't accept." Lys said carefully.
At these words, Grindelwald looked deeply at Lys.
Seeing that Lys truly seemed to harbor no hostile intentions toward him, a paper appeared in his hands.
The paper Lys had thrown through the window.
Frowning, he held the paper at a distance to make out what was written on it.
"Oh? Ten Pieces of Evidence for GGAD's Existence?"
Grindelwald's expression on his terrifyingly gaunt face was somewhat indecipherable.
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