HP: The Stellar Witch [OFC]

Seeing the peculiar expressions on the faces of the two people opposite him, he couldn't help but stroke his beard and adjust his hat, "What's the matter?"

Lys glanced at her petite mother, but...

"Didn't anyone tell you about the incident? Headmaster, I think I mentioned to you that this is my mother."

"I got into a fight with Walburga Black, which led to the Dark Lord's attention, because Walburga Black intended to kill my mother. This is my mother."

Dumbledore's expression was somewhat amusingly surprised, "Oh! The rumors have been greatly exaggerated. A survivor on the scene told me a story of you displaying great power for your sister and battling a masked woman for dozens of rounds. Oh, maybe we need to understand it from the beginning, don't we?" He raised his bushy white eyebrows and took off his glasses to wipe them.

"Headmaster, why don't you just give me a bottle of Veritaserum, or use Legilimency? There are some things I was too nervous about at the time and can't explain clearly now."

Seeing Dumbledore's disapproving expression, Lys explained, "It's okay, the Dark Lord also used Legilimency on me before, to judge if I was lying before establishing authority. And mother is very worried about father being alone at home, so we need to hurry, don't we?"

Sitting safely in the headmaster's office during the day, Lys recalled why the Dark Lord insisted on making eye contact when she answered. It wasn't about etiquette or guilty expressions; it was a necessary component of Legilimency.

The splitting headache at the time wasn't from nervousness but a side effect of Legilimency.

Dumbledore took out another plate of candies from the drawer and handed them to Lys and Senna, "No need, child, thanks to you, we have another option."

Dumbledore was also pleased with Lys's... sense of timing, as someone he saw pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord, Dumbledore didn't lower his guard just because of a few survivors' testimonies.

There was a knock at the door; it was Madam Pomfrey, "Oh, Albus, it was terrifying, so many people were injured. The bodies of the Prewett brothers, you... Oh, is this the patient? Lys, I must say your sister looks very much like you!"

Lys did not refute anymore, it didn't matter, as long as mother didn't mind.

Madam Pomfrey did a simple check, "Not dangerous, but also not lightly injured. If possible, Albus, can she stay at the school hospital? I'm really overwhelmed."

The headmaster, who was asked, interlaced his fingers, letting Madam Pomfrey leave first, "We'll send her there after our discussion, so thank you, Poppy."

After Madam Pomfrey left, Lys turned her gaze back to the headmaster's face, clearly showing distrust. "Alright, thanks to me, what is the other option?"

The headmaster nodded and took out a large stone basin from the cabinet, Lys's expression immediately turned into one of disgust. It was that thing in the library that forced her into painful memories—the Pensieve.

Looking at the runic carvings on it, still bearing dark red traces like gold, Lys's resistance was obvious to anyone with eyes. She suggested again, "How about Legilimency then..."

"Don't worry, child, I already know its correct usage, so relax. Although I'm not very skilled yet, I won't harm you, relax."

Lys watched as the old man approached her and pressed his wand against her temple, gritting her teeth and forcing herself to relax.

A strand of silvery mist, like gathered smoke, was drawn from Lys's temple.

"Oh, there's a bit more time before and after, but it's already well-controlled. So maybe you'd like to watch with me?" The old man, with his wand tip, placed the mist into the Pensieve and looked at Lys.

Lys wanted to shake her head; she was afraid of the Pensieve, but Senna pushed her, "Go."

Calling the little madcap shrewd, able to survive any situation, calling her silly, she couldn't see the obvious distrust.

Then Lys shrank her neck like a drenched red-haired chicken and moved over, being pushed by Dumbledore's head into the basin. Lys felt an instant of weightlessness, extremely insecure, she quickly raised her wand and looked around, only to be surprised to find that this was her family's reading room.

Even another version of herself was sitting dumbfounded at the door like a lost soul, and the sudden appearance of Dumbledore startled her.

The old man landed and covered his eyes, then used his wand to conjure another pair of dark lenses for himself, "Magical second development? That's a good thing, but it is indeed a bit dazzling."

"The strand I extracted is your memory, all the things your eyes and ears saw and heard will be reconstructed by the Pensieve, and we will directly see what you did and experienced in your memory."

Lys had no objections, but... "What is magical second development?"

She had always thought it was the effect of drinking the soul stabilizer, that feeling of being washed of all the mud.

"Simply put, it's the second development of magic in exceptionally gifted wizards under some chance or stimulus. Although it doesn't sound very humble to say, I am one of those who have experienced this." The old wizard, with a head full of white hair, sighed with distant eyes, "Going against the current and separating... How about you?"

Lys hesitated for a moment, was it really a stimulus? "Then before, when my father and mother first held me and cried."

Dumbledore tugged at the tip of his beard, combining it with the memories he saw of this child more than half a year ago, and actually found this stimulus quite reasonable.

The two of them slowly floated in Lys's dazzling and disjointed memories, watching her sluggish reaction to a day in the reading room, until Lys was threatened by Senna to dress up beautifully in a dress and stepped into the dining room.

Explosion, the massive magic seal, no time to escape, save people, find Gagong, dealing with Bellatrix, riding a broom to escape young Moody and Black, Tini and her brother, being caught, organizing bodies and then being caught again.

Until the memory image of that Stalys steadily raised her wand aimed at the big Moody on the ground.

Lys explained stiffly amidst the piercing screams, "To stop the bleeding, to stop the curse from spreading. I was helping him play dead!" She glanced at Dumbledore's face, unable to discern anything.

She hated dealing with these smart people, unable to read their expressions, unable to understand what they were saying.

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