Lys waited a while. The cheering hadn't stopped—it grew even louder, soaring straight to the heavens.
The corners of her mouth shot up sharply. After a moment of silence, she burst into laughter along with the thunderous cheers around her!
Dead. Really dead!
She knew the Dark Lord would definitely die!
She'd come out here just to find a quiet place to celebrate!
Lys found a pathetic excuse for her final escape and bent down sharply, punching the ground with her fist.
Gabon's broken tail tip was jabbed by Lys's sudden movement, the pain making it hiss angrily.
"Hahahahaha, I'm free, free! My freedom is finally free!" Lys extended her left arm, the armor clanging with metallic sounds as she clenched her fist.
Right, Frey was still in the tunnel. She should go find him. This was good news, wasn't it? Frey should know quickly.
However, Lys had barely taken a few steps while covering her ribs when she heard wrong-sounding voices behind her. When she turned around, her rising smile hadn't yet fallen, but she discovered the wizard running toward her wasn't right—and looked familiar. Everyone else was happy, but his face showed despair, his magic power surging restlessly.
Lys sent the small serpent from her wand toward him. As he shouted "The Dark Lord won't lose! How could my lord possibly lose!" he desperately exploded all his magic between Lys and the wizards around her.
The Fiendfyre serpent greedily devoured and wrapped around that magic. Black flames shot skyward, blocking the damage the magical explosion might bring to everyone.
But Lys's flames were more terrifying than that wizard's exploding magic. For a moment, wizards around Lys scattered like birds and beasts, fleeing far from her.
This also awakened the wizards celebrating in this area—there were still remnant loyal followers of the Dark Lord among them.
Battle erupted again.
Some wizards who hadn't known about Lys's fight with the Dark Lord even attacked her after seeing the Dark Mark on her arm.
But these people were quickly stopped by Professor McGonagall, who rushed out to check the situation. She stood before Lys, looking up at her with complex emotions, marveling at everything her student had experienced and demonstrated.
"Child, I'm very sorry, but you..."
Lys perfunctorily pulled up the corners of her mouth at Professor McGonagall and stepped back slightly. "I'll be back. I still have things to ask Potter, but I have other matters now, Professor."
Lys saw Professor McGonagall looking at her left arm. Thinking the professor was wary of her Death Eater identity, she raised her wand slightly and passed through the crowd, rapidly leaving through Hogwarts' gates, which no one blocked anymore.
But how could Professor McGonagall think that? She'd personally witnessed Lys fighting the Dark Lord, hadn't she?
She just wanted Lys to stay at Hogwarts to avoid possible future misunderstandings and troubles.
However, Lys wasn't thinking about this now. She realized those dangerous Death Eaters couldn't all be caught.
She was now exposed, and Frey, as her brother, was with that unlucky fellow whose background little Potter had completely exposed. If discovered by those madmen, it would be even more dangerous.
Lys had to hurry to find her brother first before she could feel at ease.
She still remembered the Aurors tortured insane by the Cruciatus Curse when Bellatrix interrogated them about the Dark Lord's whereabouts after his first disappearance.
Whether the Ministry of Magic or the Order of the Phoenix, Lys felt their hands and feet always seemed less than nimble.
Pressing tightly against her ribs, Lys rapidly advanced toward that broken house.
Even though she was truly anxious, when she saw scattered Dementors along the way, Lys could only take detours. Those Dementors' breathing actions affected her current state too severely.
Taking detours anxiously, Lys muttered: "I can't cast a Patronus right now..." She quickly avoided them, not noticing the silver mist that flashed briefly at her wand tip—gentle and firm.
Seeing that house looking old and battered but still intact, Lys sighed with relief. Just as she was about to step inside, she stopped abruptly.
She said softly: "Frey, little fly, it's me!" Then she entered.
"Sis, if you hadn't called me Frey or if you'd spoken any later, I would've activated that broken belt Portkey."
Frey poked his wand out from his newly created hollow.
Hearing this, Lys amusedly made a correction: "Well, the Portkey is an empty long-necked potion bottle."
Only then did Frey feel reassured enough to crawl out.
"Professor Snape is fine, but you gave him too much unicorn blood. Even if it was uncursed blood, it was still too much." Frey's expression was indescribable. "So now do we start our refugee life?"
Struggling to pull the unconscious Snape to the entrance, Frey looked satisfied at his sister's surprised gaze. "So? Are we going back to Germany now?"
"Voldemort is dead."
"Who?" Frey didn't react immediately, because almost no one chose to speak the Dark Lord's name. Over the years, he'd mostly heard "the Dark Lord," "You-Know-Who," "you know who I mean," and similar euphemisms.
But seeing Lys's expression, Frey gently—as if it were some fragile object—grasped the armor on Lys's left hand. "Really?"
"I still have one last doubt, but I think so."
Lys still had one doubt.
Yes, she doubted that Harry Potter hadn't died.
Had the Dark Lord's final soul imprint existing within Harry Potter truly disappeared as he claimed?
She didn't know if she'd be beaten if she later suggested the Savior should die...
However, Frey jumping three feet high interrupted her thoughts. "Fantastic! Sis! Who was it? I want this person's autograph!"
"Harry Potter."
Hearing Lys's answer, Frey calmed down considerably, even showing an expression that found it reasonable yet didn't know what to say.
Lys chuckled, pouring the last bit of Soul Stabilizer she clutched into her mouth. "Alright, let's check on Severus first. The person I risked leaving you here to save—don't let me kill him by overdosing him with medicine..."
"Ahem... speaking of which, where did you get pure unicorn blood?"
"It was Hagrid, he... Sis! Sis!"
...
In the end, Frey had no choice but to take Snape to St. Mungo's, because Lys had also collapsed. The curses from her battle with the Dark Lord kept wearing her down.
Even though the goblin armor had suppressed further damage to her arm, Lys couldn't do anything more. She was almost too weak to stand.
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