Facing the second Death Eater startled Lys, and they almost immediately exchanged spells. Each time the sound of thunder rang out, Lys couldn't help but glance towards the alley entrance.
Until blood spurted from the opponent's neck, Lys's forehead was instantly covered in cold sweat. She hesitated for a moment but still cast two healing spells.
Why did the opponent seem not very strong? She nearly decapitated him when going all out!
Lys explained to the two little tagalongs, "I didn't mean it, fighting for your life, it's normal to go a bit heavy-handed!" You two better not tell on me!
The two kids nodded frantically, realizing that even though Lys was a bit slow today, her combat ability and danger evasion were far superior to theirs.
As two fourteen-year-olds, Moody and Blake both understood the significance of the attack due to their Auror family backgrounds, which marked them as prime targets.
Along the way, they wanted to save the moaning, cowering people, but Lys moved swiftly, almost indifferently, so they could only follow closely behind her for protection.
"Do you know how to ride a broom?" At this question, both kids nodded. Lys pointed to the broom shop across the street, "If your uncle and the others are still in the pub, land there. If not, pick a direction and fly hard, understand? Don't use your wands to activate Trace for two days; there's been no reinforcements, so the Ministry might have issues too."
"Senior, aren't you coming with us?"
Pausing for a moment, she looked down at Moody, "I'm a Slytherin. Standing with the Aurors is asking for death, and no one will protect my family. So if you get saved, don't mention me."
She paused, trying to clear her sluggish mind.
"Besides, I can't ride a broom!"
In less than twenty minutes, her mind had completely shut down. She really couldn't concentrate anymore; even simple judgments and words required immense effort to compute and articulate.
Ironically, while summoning brooms with the Summoning Charm, she found someone unconscious in the broom shop, bruised and with a twisted petrified arm—it was the girl's brother, that sleazy Gryffindor boy.
Forcing herself to stay alert, Lys tried to alleviate his injuries. Now it was just right, two brooms for four people.
She slapped the boy hard twice, waking him up with groans, and he started whining without opening his eyes, clutching his arm.
"Take these two kids and your sister and run, don't stop!" Lys slapped him again, whispering urgently.
Things weren't looking good. A floating Dark Mark appeared near the pub street, signaling more deaths, and those in black robes seemed to be converging there.
Practically kicking them to hurry, Lys cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself, planning to try leaving through Knockturn Alley. Who knew what these people were gathering for?
Then Lys was caught.
It was Bellatrix. That madwoman just sensed something was off and, without even suspecting, threw an Avada Kedavra at Lys's corner.
This was Lys's first time seeing Avada Kedavra up close. The deadly intent and malice in that ghastly green light made her body react even if her mind was slow.
She flinched.
Seeing it was the Slytherin bookworm holding a snake from before, Bellatrix sneered with disdain, letting her husband Rodolphus take Lys away.
"Those damn Order of the Phoenix pests deserve punishment and warning. You cowardly little snakes should see what the Dark Lord's power truly is. It's a good opportunity, isn't it?"
Lys wanted to say no, but she didn't dare, nor did she have any plan to escape, especially with at least a dozen black-robed people around Bellatrix.
Most of them wore a strange satisfaction, using magic to pick people from passing houses and torment them as if screams were the purpose of this attack.
But it wasn't.
Lys looked at the central street where magical flowers used to be displayed, now desolate and broken. Shattered pots and withered flowers littered the ground like a dump.
Surrounded by... clearly lifeless wizards and witches.
The murky air made it hard for Lys to breathe. For some reason, she raised her wand and cast a Scourgify. Facing Bellatrix's mad, puzzled gaze, Lys turned her dry eyes, "Clean, a bit cleaner this way."
Yet it earned Bellatrix's agreement, "Indeed, as a warning to those pureblood disgraces, we should decorate here, shouldn't we? Make our trophies more dazzling."
Strangely, Lys was given a task, to decorate? Dazzling?
Holding her blackthorn wand, Lys didn't know what to do.
Among the bodies was even a Muggle-born wizard who often visited the reading room and the wizard who helped her buy Muggle books during the holidays, his hat, which she had given him, already frayed but still clutched tightly in his hand.
But it was all useless now, they were dead.
Lys felt like vomiting but held it in, waving her wand to lift the stone slabs, magic surging to build a platform. She placed the bodies on it, now eleven, and the black-robed ones kept bringing more uncertainly alive people, tossing them onto the platform.
Straining her thoughts, Lys was satisfied; this way, no one would step on the dead's limbs or robes.
Excitedly waiting, Bellatrix was pleased; today's achievements were fully displayed for the Dark Lord to see at a glance!
Many praised Lys for her displayed strength, while others thought she was showing off, glaring at her with venomous eyes. Lys glanced at the bodies on the platform and stood behind Bellatrix.
Half of those glares withdrew.
The madwoman swung her wand, placing a pair of twins' bodies in the most prominent position, but she wasn't satisfied, not striking enough!
The two bodies were tossed around like broken dolls.
Seeing the still-spilling blood, Lys realized these bodies might not even be cold; they were once alive.
She glanced at the platform, extending a base beneath it.
Bellatrix, flushed with excitement, tapped Lys's face with her wand, "You've got a good eye, I'll be your sponsor after graduation, alright?"
But the expressionless Lys gave no response.
Feeling bored, Bellatrix shifted her focus, "Ha, isn't this the Moody family's prodigy?"
At the words, Lys turned her head so fast her red hair whipped around, only to see a middle-aged man bearing some resemblance to young Moody.
Calming her heartbeat, Lys gradually shrank into the corner. Making the bodies presentable was all she could do now; saving people was beyond her reach and courage...
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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