The great battle erupted as those loyal to Dumbledore and the followers of the resurrected Dark Lord raised their wands.
Lys carried Senna to the base of the high platform. Out of reverence for the corpses and fear of the place where the Dark Lord had just delivered his proclamation, both sides instinctively avoided this spot.
Nearly crawling, Lys clambered onto the platform. She paid no mind to the twisted corpses and the blood pooling across its surface. She lay flat at a height that kept her out of sight, carefully placing Senna down. Then, she cast a soothing spell and an awakening charm on her.
Her respect for the dead earned her a brief moment of safety.
When Dumbledore arrived, the anti-Apparition wards were lifted. Lys felt the contraction of magical power.
But Lys had never learned Apparition, and she didn't dare navigate the spell-ridden square with Senna in tow.
While anxiously trying to wake Senna, Lys silently vowed that this year, she would focus solely on learning Apparition. If she didn't master it, her life would be at risk!
"Tom, you still refuse to face yourself. I'm truly disappointed," Dumbledore said, his silvery, bird-shaped attack colliding with the silver shield conjured by the Dark Lord, sparks scattering in all directions.
"Dumbledore, you still cower in the school, avoiding the reforms that wizards so desperately need. Open your eyes and see the truth—we are the ones who are right, the ultimate victors!" The hem of the Dark Lord's robe billowed in the wild magic swirling around him.
With every exchange of words, devastating spells were unleashed.
Lys shook her mother's shoulders. "Wake up, Mom! If we don't leave now, no matter who wins, we'll be doomed!"
Especially since she had been openly boasting about the Dark Lord just before Dumbledore arrived. Hadn't she practically painted a target on her back?
Fortunately, under the effects of overlapping spells, Senna finally opened her eyes.
"Mom, quick, Apparate us home!"
But it was clear Senna needed more time to recover; her injuries were severe.
On the other side, flames erupted around Dumbledore, curling and trapping the Dark Lord within a fiery cage. The sheer power of the magic was terrifying. Lys risked a glance, her eyes stinging and tearing up from the intense light.
Through her blurred vision, Lys noticed several people had disappeared, along with a gleaming wand. She guessed some had already Apparated away.
Feeling the scorching heat of the flames, Lys slipped the Ouroboros ring onto Senna's finger to help her regain consciousness faster.
She didn't remain idle either. Rummaging through the pile of corpses, she found Moody—still alive!
Perfect. He could serve as a witness to prove her innocence!
Lys pulled her wand from her wrist. With her right hand holding her yew wand, she diligently worked to heal the man. Her left hand, wielding her blackthorn wand, deflected stray spells flying in her direction.
He woke up!
Lys quickly grabbed a wand from the pile of bodies and shoved it into his hand. Then, she continued searching the heap and found two more people who were still alive! She glanced at Senna, who looked much better but still wasn't in any condition to Apparate.
She needed to ensure as many survivors as possible could vouch for her. She didn't want to be accused of siding with the Dark Lord. Her white ash wand in her right hand worked tirelessly to heal the injured.
Something was off about the Dark Lord. The magic radiating from him carried the same putrid stench as the corruption on her arm. His treatment of his followers sent chills down Lys's spine.
But Lys didn't want to join Dumbledore either. Look at the members of the Order of the Phoenix and the countless wizards who had died. Look at the corpses littering the ground! Dumbledore couldn't protect them.
If running was an option, she would be the first to flee.
If the Dark Lord won, the survivors would be doomed. If Dumbledore won, they'd become witnesses.
It made sense… it all made sense. Lys's head throbbed with pain, but she forced herself to stay clear-headed.
There was no hope of finding severed limbs. The people she was trying to save were beyond full recovery. Lys made sure to show her face clearly to the three conscious survivors multiple times.
Using the corpses on the platform, she cast a bone-extraction curse to draw power. She managed to treat the curses and dark magic injuries on Moody to a basic level before positioning herself in front of Senna. She couldn't afford to exhaust all her magic—she still needed to protect Gagbone and Senna.
Senna managed to gather a small amount of magic, but she shook her head at Lys. She still couldn't Apparate.
"Mom, can you Apparate on your own? Please, just go!" Lys urged, watching the flames on the other side gradually weaken. But Senna shook her head again.
Lys steadied her breath, stowed her yew wand, and leaned quietly against Senna, lying on the corpse-strewn platform.
"Mom, once we're safe, I'll learn Apparition. When I've mastered it, will you tell me where our home is?"
"Did Walburga Black die?" Senna ignored Lys's question, finding it ominous.
"No, Mom, but she won't have it easy either. I shattered the magic within her, and then the Dark Lord used the Cruciatus Curse on her. She doesn't have many years left," Lys replied with satisfaction. "Mom, once I graduate—or sooner, if I get the chance—the Black family won't have peace. I'll make sure Fenrir Greyback dies too. I won't let them off the hook. Never."
Lys lay on the platform, feeling a pang of fear. It had only been five years since she'd left the small bed in her family's kitchen. She was terrified.
"Mom…"
"Yes?" Senna twisted the ring on her finger, wondering what Noah was doing and whether he was worried. And… why was she so eerily calm despite the looming danger of death?
"I'm scared, Mom."
Senna frowned. "What's there to be scared of? If anything, others should fear you." She glanced around the platform, then thought of her little lunatic daughter dueling Orion Black and the others who had tried to stop her. The spells were terrifyingly powerful and lightning-fast. Was this really the same timid girl who used to hide in the kitchen or bury herself in books?
Oh, right. She was a little lunatic. Senna's lips curled up slightly. She slipped the ring back onto Lys's middle finger. Calm down. She didn't want to deal with a clingy little lunatic right now.
In the end, Dumbledore won—or rather, he was the one left standing.
The Death Eaters and the Dark Lord's supporters, after unleashing their spells and wreaking havoc, had all Apparated away.
The square was littered with injured and dead. Dumbledore's face was uncharacteristically grim. In the midst of the groans and wails, his usual kindly smile was nowhere to be seen.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
Welcome to visit my Patreon, read the early chapters, and enjoy your reading!
patreon.com/DarkGolds