She pressed a Portkey into Fred's hand, then slipped the large amber pendant she'd worn around her neck for over ten years onto Fred's:
"This place should be safe for an hour—the Dark Lord's entire focus is on the savior right now. If there's any disturbance, take him and run if you can, but if there's even the slightest risk, you run immediately! Understand?!"
After watching Fred nod, Lys wiped the dust from Fred's face, only making it dirtier. "You're what matters most. You must run."
Lys hesitated. "Maybe I should just send you away... let him lie here."
Fred soothed Lys—he could see her emotions weren't right.
Lys's eyes were moving frequently and unnaturally, a sign she felt agitated.
If they abandoned Professor Snape and left now, he knew his sister would waste not a single second getting the family away.
Even though the Dark Lord wouldn't immediately start hunting their family.
Fred wanted Lys to have choices, and he would take care of himself as best he could.
"Lys, the potions aren't working right, and the spells aren't very effective either. The Professor's blood keeps flowing—if I leave, he'll truly have no hope. I promise I'll run at the first sound of trouble. Don't worry, Lys. I'm the one who made it from Germany to England on my own. I know that with my abilities, running is safest."
Fred pulled out his owl, now awake and nuzzling against his hand. "And Lys, take Gabon. I have Cerebold for warning."
He hoped Lys could do something she wanted, but feared she might never come back.
Taking Gabon, she should remember to be careful...
Right?
Lys glanced at the silent Severus Snape, picked up Gabon, and finally turned to leave.
Horcruxes, the savior, Dumbledore—what a combination! Listen to that! How hopeful it sounded...
On the way, Lys's hands trembled as she downed half a bottle of Soul-Stabilizing Potion, gripping Gabon's tail to let the madness about to surge in her heart settle back down.
She swore she was just going to look. Just look.
After looking, she'd come back, collect Fred, and run immediately.
But from Lys's rapid crawling posture, that sliver of hope had still stimulated her.
What she hadn't told Fred was that her regrets weren't just about not decisively leaving the country years ago, but also about not secretly clubbing that fake Moody—little Barty in disguise—to death during Fred's third year.
Killing him would have meant no one to deliver little Potter to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord wouldn't have returned... at least not so early!
She wanted to know. Even if this might be another lesson like the Inferi-guarded Horcrux cave years ago, she still wanted to know.
Even if she couldn't grasp the unknown to control the future, she could avoid making fatally wrong decisions.
Finally crawling out of the tunnel, Lys nearly got whipped from behind by the Whomping Willow—Gabon's tail warned her.
She used magic to support Gabon while concealing herself, darting to a large hole in the castle's side and carefully climbing through the gap.
She checked the time—just over twenty minutes left before the Dark Lord's ultimatum...
She quickly used Flying Arrow to reach the Headmaster's office on the eighth floor, but the crooked stone gargoyle at the entrance kept asking Lys for the password and wouldn't open. Lys nearly smashed it in frustration.
Just as she was about to raise her wand and force entry, the sound of metal striking stone came from around the corner: "Dumbledore."
The stone gargoyle's voice sounded somewhat annoyed, but it still slid apart.
Lys paused, then stepped inside. She immediately spotted the Pensieve placed in the center of the room.
Frowning as she looked around, Lys discovered Dumbledore wasn't in his portrait. Cursing under her breath, she prepared to leave, but the flickering light and shadow from the ceiling at the doorway drew her gaze to the basin of silver memories placed on the desk.
The Dark Lord wanted to kill Snape, yet Snape was still helping Dumbledore relay messages to the savior...
So at some point, he'd already become Dumbledore's man, not a devoted Death Eater...
So what did he want to tell little Potter?
Lys swallowed hard, feeling her throat tighten.
"Sorry, Snape. I shouldn't look at your privacy, but this is too tempting for me."
As if making excuses, she spoke quickly, glanced at the blank portraits behind her, and plunged headfirst into the Pensieve.
Gabon lay on her neck, watching anything that might move.
Lys wandered rapidly through Snape's memories, then emerged from the Pensieve in shock.
Turning, she looked toward Dumbledore's portrait—the white-bearded old man had appeared.
"You already know about the Horcruxes, don't you?"
Lys's hopeful gaze fixed on the old man in the portrait:
"So what Gellert Grindelwald said—'If it were Albus, though he might not say it, he would certainly be clear in his heart'—is true!"
Lys watched the thoughtful Dumbledore in the portrait. She suddenly laughed, her laughter somewhat hoarse. "So you did it. You started destroying Horcruxes before you died. I saw it—that ring."
Lys hugged her arms, trying to calm herself. "I did too. That diary—you overlooked that its pages weren't completely pierced through. He hid it. I dealt with it in the end, at Malfoy Manor. It actually tried to attack my brother."
"In Snape's memories, he said you cultivated little Potter's resolve to die, just because he also has a fragment of the Dark Lord's soul inside him. If little Potter dies, the Dark Lord will truly die. You're terrifying..."
But as if remembering something, Lys's smile became somewhat bitter. "So Dumbledore, it's still useless. That snake is also a Horcrux. Until I got here, that snake was alive and well. He even has a locket hidden on the ocean. Do you really know?"
Dumbledore's portrait stared directly at Lys.
"I'm just a portrait formed from a segment of memory. I'm sorry I can't give you answers, but I think Harry will find a way to deal with that snake."
"Relying on a barely adult child?"
"His love is powerful, just like when you were only fifteen but still protected your mother, protected those you could protect when mired in darkness."
Lys shook her head in disappointment. "Do you really know all his Horcruxes? Missing even one..." She picked at the blood under her left fingernails and looked up at Dumbledore. "If you weren't certain, you wouldn't easily let Harry Potter go to his death. He's too important. So you're sure you know."
Dumbledore's portrait seemed to take a long time to process what Lys had said. "I discovered the signs starting with that diary. Tom was my student—perhaps I still know how to understand him."
"So if little Potter chooses to step forward..."
Even as a portrait, Dumbledore's blue eyes still gave the impression of seeing through one's heart. He stared steadily at Lys as if confirming something.
"Yes, then it means only that snake and Harry remain."
Lys swallowed hard. Now not only was her throat tight—her scalp was too.
"My memory chooses to believe, Starlys. Perhaps you have your own thoughts too, don't you? Dawn is breaking."
Lys looked toward the window.
Yes, dawn—was breaking.
The Dark Lord's final deadline had arrived.
And Dumbledore's gaze moved away from the blackthorn wand in Lys's hand, while Gellert Grindelwald's name appeared in the memories forming the portrait.
He disappeared to the edge of the portrait, going who knows where.
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