Something changed in the Lady the first time she saw Regulus Black. She was fifteen years old, and he wasn't the first young death eater she had met, but there was something about his smile, his eyes, and his dark, wavy hair that made her unable to forget him.
The Lady felt confused by the effects that Regulus had on her. Her body reacted in a strange way when he was near: her stomach contracted as if she had vertigo, her breathing accelerated, and she noticed a curious tickling sensation below her waist that left her confused.
She wanted him to look at her, and be aware of her presence, but for some reason, every time she had the chance to approach him, her mouth would go dry and she was unable to speak.
She was only able to look at him longingly, as if he were someone she had been waiting for all her life. When Regulus was away, her mind thought about him all the time, remembering the sound of his voice, imagining him smiling at her.
Lord Voldemort realized that something had changed in her, because he was still attached to her mind, controlling her, but in his eagerness to forget everything that made him human, he did not understand the sudden hurricane of emotions that flooded the Lady.
However, he imagined that this sudden change could pose a danger, especially if his heiress was influenced by other people than him. And in his desire to control and monitor her, he imposed a new companion.
The widow Nox was an older witch, austere and strict, and was in charge of supervising her every movement, especially when someone approached her.
Additionally, the widow Nox was also tasked with instructing her in matters of female education, but her mentality was traditional and closed-minded, and her advice was limited to repeating in different ways how dishonorable it was to be alone in male company.
But as always, Win had anticipated these events, and true to her custom, she had provided her mistress with various educational books that talked about the female body, and novels that opened her imagination to the most intimate aspects of love.
And so, the Lady listened to Widow Nox 's sermons, nodding silently, but with her head elsewhere, remembering favorite passages from her novels, and imagining what she could do with Regulus if he consented to it.
But unfortunately for her, she never saw him again. Voldemort made sure that no young death eater approached her unsupervised, and kept her locked up most of the time, always under surveillance.
Several months later, the Lady received the news that Regulus had died, and the Lady, for the first time, cried desolately in the solitude of her room, feeling that she had lost something very important.
***
"It was Potter. He and his friends were there," Draco repeated that, over and over again, to everyone who wanted to listen.
He told Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore. For the first time in his life, he was not motivated by a desire for revenge, but by the fear produced by seeing the expression on his mother's face when she found the person she was supposed to protect half dead.
Narcissa corroborated her son's version when Dumbledore questioned her alone. Her trembling voice and her expression of absolute terror revealed to the headmaster that she was telling the truth.
"I don't know if it was them or not," she whispered. "But they were there, and the Lady stopped to talk to Potter."
"What did she tell him?"
"I don't know, they spoke in Parseltongue," then Narcissa raised her head, and for the first time, looked Dumbledore in the eyes. "If she dies, he will kill me. He will kill us all," she whispered with a trembling voice.
"She will not die. She is badly injured, but she will recover."
"But there will be consequences..."
That was what Dumbledore feared most, Voldemort's response when he found out that his most valuable subordinate had been injured. Maybe that's why he was so angry.
However, everything got worse when, a few hours later, Amycus entered his office, and was the victim of another cluster of explosions, caused by the mixture of several spells and an assortment of Weasley explosives.
Because of this, Dumbledore gathered the members of Dumbledore's Army in his office, and looked at them one by one, very serious and angry.
"Why?" he asked them. He was furious with them, even with Harry. His face no longer expressed its usual affable expression, but rather he bored into them with cold blue eyes. "You have put the school in danger, a greater danger than it already was. Why?"
"We had to try," Harry replied. Being the leader of the group, he felt that it was his obligation to stand up for the others. "We had to try to expel her from Hogwarts."
"You nearly killed her."
"But sir, she is the messenger from You-Know-Who," Ron intervened, as stunned as Harry.
"Precisely for that reason, what did you intend? Start the war early? Voldemort had simply sent her to manipulate the school, but that was something we could navigate. Now he could attack Hogwarts!" Dumbledore tried to breathe calmly, to control his anger. "Get out of here," he ordered, passing his withered hand over his eyes.
He was exhausted, after days of intense mental struggle against the Lady. That silent battle had taken its toll on him.
However, when he opened his eyes again, he saw Harry, who had not moved from his position and was looking at him angry and confused.
"I don't understand, professor. I have to face Voldemort sooner or later. That's what the prophecy says. Wouldn't it be better to do it without his daughter helping him?"
"It's too soon, Harry, you're not ready," Dumbledore avoided his gaze. "Not to mention that an attack on Hogwarts would endanger all the students, including your friends."
"When will I be ready?" Harry was not going to let himself be distracted so easily. He was also angry at the professor's evasive answers. "Why don't you tell me the truth? I'm the one who has to kill him. Don't you think I should have all the information?"
Dumbledore sent him a warning look, but Harry clenched his jaw, unwilling to budge. He was tired of being treated like a child. Finally, the headmaster sighed.
"The reason you can't face Voldemort yet is because I think he has something that could prevent him from dying if we don't act correctly."
"What do you mean? Does Voldemort have a weapon?"
"I'm afraid Harry, I still can't answer your question. I suspect that, due to his obsession with achieving immortality, Voldemort has taken steps to not be defeated so easily, but I haven't figured out what that is yet. Therefore, attacking him ahead of time would not only be suicide, but also stupidity," Harry felt subjected to the impassive X-ray gaze of the headmaster. "And for this reason, I ask you to act wisely and not continue with your avenging crusade. We are not ready to start the war yet. Tell me you understand, Harry," he demanded, without taking his eyes off him. The young man nodded reluctantly. "Go back to class, you've been distracted enough for today."
Harry prepared to obey, but before leaving through the door he turned again to ask something that was on his mind.
"Professor, when you know what Voldemort's weapon is, will you tell me?"
Dumbledore looked back at him with an inscrutable expression.
"Don't worry, Harry. I may need your help to obtain all the information," however, he said nothing more, and Harry resigned himself to remaining in the dark until the headmaster saw fit.
As he descended the spiral stairs he came face to face with professor Snape, who was coming from the infirmary with a quick step. Recognizing him, the professor approached him, with hatred painted on his face.
"I don't care if the headmaster protects you, Potter," he hissed angrily. "If she dies, you will be the next to fall," and pushing him to the side, he continued up the stairs, angrily, and leaving Harry absolutely confused.
Snape entered the office still angry, but as was his habit, he tried to maintain his composure in front of the headmaster.
"Severus, I didn't expect to see you so soon, how is the Lady?"
"Unconscious. We have managed to stabilize her and resolve the physical damage, but she does not wake up."
"I imagine that you have put all your knowledge into practice."
"Obviously."
"It seems very strange that simple firecrackers managed to hurt her so easily. I would have expected a little more resistance on her part, considering the incredible strength she was showing with her control spell," Dumbledore fixed his eyes on Snape questioningly, but the professor just frowned.
"Do you think I have the answer?"
"I imagine you could at least venture a theory about it."
Snape looked away and shrugged.
"She was keeping all the teachers and students under control. If you and Minerva were struggling to free yourself, I imagine the Lady would invest all her energy in preventing it."
"To the point of sacrificing her physical defenses?"
"She would probably imagine that she wouldn't need to defend herself if everyone was being subjected to her will."
"It was a bad choice, without a doubt."
"No one would have imagined that Potter and his friends would do such a thing," Snape growled.
"Does Voldemort know?"
"Not yet, but at some point he will try to contact her, I can't say when. What will happen then?"
"Maybe the Lady just needs to rest. Mental wounds resolve on their own, but they require time and patience. The important thing is that she is not in death danger."
"Do you think that is enough? The Dark Lord will not like to know that she has been attacked."
"What do you suggest, Severus?"
"We must let the Carrows punish the culprits. Or the Lady herself, when she wakes up."
"No. I will not allow the torture of Hogwarts students, even for something like this."
"They have put us all in danger, they have—"
"Enough," Dumbledore raised his voice. "You will tell Voldemort that I myself have taken away their wands, from all of them. He doesn't have to know it's not true."
Snape clenched his fists furiously, but knew he had no choice but to obey. Furious, he left the office slamming the door.
***
On the Halloween night when Lord Voldemort was defeated, the Lady fell to the ground, prey to a terrible pain that crossed her face, piercing her eye and head.
An indefinable anguish invaded her. He was gone, he was no longer with her. The pain and discomfort were so strong that she felt like dying.
But when the pain stopped, she felt empty. That hatred that had guided her every second of her life was gone. The iron control he had over her mind was not there anymore. That evil and coldness was no longer with her. Voldemort had taken it with him. Now she was free. And she was scared.
Win was hugging her, worried about her, as always. When she was finally able to sit up, the Lady looked around, confused. Everything had a different appearance, more illuminated, with brighter colors. Had it always been like this?
Her emotions were overflowing. She felt fear, but also relief and joy. And Win, her dear Win... the young woman hugged her, surprised by the affection and gratitude she felt. She couldn't believe that Voldemort had deprived her of feeling all that.
Hours passed, and they both tried to understand what had happened. The idea that the Dark Lord had been defeated filled them with fear and hope in equal measure. What was going to happen to them?
And suddenly, a deafening roar made the walls rumble and the window panes vibrate. Widow Nox came running.
"We are under attack! The aurors are attacking us!"
For the first time in her life, the Lady didn't know how to react. Win acted for her, forcing her to stand and move. The three of them went out into the corridor, but they had not managed to run a few meters when the house was plunged into complete darkness.
The Lady felt panic take over her. She was going to die. She didn't know what to do. Widow Nox and Win were pulling her, and she could hear screams and explosions. The aurors appeared at the end of the hallway, and one of them waved his wand, casting a killing curse at them.
The Lady stared at the green beam without being able to react. Her legs refused to respond, even though Widow Nox had her arms around her, trying to push her. That couldn't be happening...
Then she felt her stomach shrink, and everything began to spin very quickly around her. She lost track of time and space, and turned around many times, until finally falling to the ground. She rested her hands on the damp grass and looked around, bewildered.
They were outside, hidden among some bushes. Strange sounds surrounded them, but there was no trace of screams or explosions.
"Win has brought the miss to London," the house-elf whispered. "The aurors will have a very difficult time finding us here."
The Lady nodded, trying to catch her breath. She looked at the widow Nox, and her heart stopped when she saw her face frozen in a grimace of surprise. She was dead.
She didn't know why that vision affected her so much, but she felt like vomiting. Panic flooded her again. What should she do?
"The miss has to hide," Win urged her. "The Ministry men must not find her."
"Hide? Where? I have nowhere to go," the young woman looked around, desperate. She didn't see anyone else in the park, but that calm could disappear at any moment.
She tried to think, ignoring the cold body lying next to her. If she wanted to hide, she had to choose a remote and discreet place. A place where they would never look for her.
Perhaps she could hide in Europe, as Grindelwald had done. But even he had been tracked, and there was no doubt in her mind that the aurors were on her trail.
No, if she wanted to disappear, she had to go even further away. To the other side of the world.
But how to move without being detected? The Ministry could track the use of Apparition and Portkeys, and she did not know how to fly on a broomstick.
The Lady bit her lip, thinking quickly. Her eyes focused on the few cars that were circulating at that time. Maybe she could travel like the muggles, without using magic... they wouldn't expect that, and it would be impossible to track.
A distant light in the sky caught her attention. She silently watched the flickering lights across the dark night, remembering what she had read about those mysterious planes in the books Win had given her.
"What do I need to leave the country in one of those?" she asked at the end, pointing to the sky.
"Money and a passport."
"Can we get them?"
"Yeah."
"You'll have to guide me," she was going to stand up, but stopped when she noticed another problem. Her appearance! With her scar and robe, she was easily recognizable.
This was Halloween night, and she knew that muggles had a habit of dressing up, but as soon as the sun came up, she would be in danger again.
"I need clothes, Win. Muggle clothes," she clarified. The house-elf nodded silently, and disappeared.
The Lady was left alone, waiting. She glanced askance at the widow Nox. She would be lying if she said she cared for her, but for some reason, she felt guilty for her death. Her last act before dying had been to protect her from the killing curse. And yet, she could still be useful once again.
Carefully, the Lady ran a hand over the woman's cheek, creating a replica of her scar. She also erased her wrinkles and smoothed her skin, giving her a younger look. She hoped that would confuse the aurors and give them a little more time to escape.
Then she closed her eyes, and touched her own face, concentrating. She created a spell to hide her scar, and return her eyes to their original blue color. That didn't restore her vision, but at least it would avoid attracting attention.
Shortly after, when Win returned with muggle clothes, she finished her disguise, and taking the house-elf by the hand, she disappeared with her, heading to Diagon Alley.