Little Lys had learned early in life that she should make herself invisible in front of her parents.
She would secretly watch her mother, and her father - who was permanently bedridden and occasionally transformed into a large dog. Neither of them spoke to her much.
If it hadn't been for Coco, their chatty house-elf, she believed she might never have learned to speak at all.
Life had been simple before - eating, sleeping in her dark little room, and running on the grassy slope in front of the house.
But now she faced a challenging situation: an owl had delivered a letter that morning.
When Coco read it aloud, it mentioned attending a school of magic and having to go to London to purchase various books.
The problem was, she barely knew how to read. Her only venture outside had been to a small village, where she'd hidden and watched some boys hunting rabbits.
The prospect of traveling to London, a place she'd never even heard of, seemed overwhelming.
She would need her mother's permission to go.
Moreover, while the house-elf could read letters and care for her at home, Coco couldn't leave the house without her mother's explicit orders.
She waited all day, but her mother didn't return - she had been absent for several days now.
Lys watched the grey owl that stubbornly remained in the kitchen. Coco explained it was waiting for a reply.
When Lys nervously entered her father's room to discuss the matter, her bedridden father's face twisted into that uncomfortable expression she knew too well - his eyebrows furrowed tightly, his thin lips pressed together until they nearly vanished.
He attempted to sit up, but his upper body failed him and collapsed back onto the bed.
"Lys, my little star," he said, "it seems like only yesterday... and now you're already old enough for school. Yes, all these years, you've grown so much."
"Ah, Hogwarts - that's the finest school there is. Your mother will be thrilled to know you've been chosen, especially considering... well, all these years without showing any magical ability. Um..."
Noah lay there, clearly struggling for words. He had only seen his daughter a handful of times throughout her life. After an awkward silence across the half-open door, Lys quickly produced the letter.
"Father, if I'm allowed to go, could you help me reply? The owl is still in the kitchen, eating all of Coco's fresh cookies."
She watched from a distance as her father instructed the house-elf to bring quill and ink, writing in elaborate loops. Among the writing, she could make out the word signifying approval.
Little Lys felt her heart swell with excitement.
Perhaps - just perhaps - she could leave this three-story house, journey to London, and venture beyond the two mountains.
She might see the Lucky Spring from the stories Coco had read to her. Maybe she'd even encounter wizards with furry hearts, gnomes, goblins, giants, and yes, even Dementors along the way.
She would keep them close, just like Harpole did in the stories. Then, when she eventually had to return home from school, she wouldn't be alone anymore.
Oh my, the possibility was absolutely thrilling!
If her distant father knew that his years of neglect had led his child to find solace in the strange books scattered around the house, he might have felt even more guilty.
After all, those books were merely free gifts that had come with whatever purchases his wife Senna had made.
"Now we just need to wait for your mother to return and take you shopping. She'll be overjoyed, I'm sure. All these years we thought you were a Squib, and with my condition, because of what happened to me..."
Noah pressed his lips together and averted his gaze from little Lys's face, losing himself in memories.
People who spend too much time in isolation often develop this habit - easily getting lost in their own thoughts.
That year, when Lys was very young, due to some political rivalry, he had been "specially attended to" by a werewolf - arranged by his competitors.
The healers at St. Mungo's had said the bones in his waist could be restored, but it would be futile - the residual dark magic had rendered them permanently useless.
He was condemned to a life in bed.
And it had happened during a full moon, of all times.
Since then, another hole had likely appeared in the corner of the Black family tapestry - or perhaps he had never appeared on it at all.
Suddenly snapping back to reality, he found little Lys still standing at the doorway, watching him from outside the room.
"Go on, Coco, let the owl take the letter. Lys, it's late - you should get some rest."
"Good night, Father."
Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Lys quickly closed the door and returned to the kitchen, carefully collecting the cookie crumbs into her mouth - nothing should go to waste.
Lying in bed that night, little Lys found herself, for the first time, eagerly awaiting her mother's return.
Previously, though she loved her mother, she had always hoped for fewer visits, as each appearance came with stern warnings:
Stay away from your father, don't let him see you, and don't let anyone from the neighboring village spot you.
She wondered if the owl would deliver the letter safely. Where exactly was this school - was it really in London as the letter said? Would Coco be allowed to come with her?
Rolling over and brushing the hair from her face, Lys realized that probably wouldn't be possible. If Coco came with her, what would happen to Father?
She had never seen him in the kitchen - he would surely starve without help.
Oh yes, she would need to find some clothes and have Coco alter them to fit her. Without Coco around, what would she eat at school...
Lost in these thoughts, little Lys drifted off to sleep, her small fingers still clutching her bedsheet.