It should have been the dead of night, yet two night owls were still lingering beside the fountain pool. Looking at the empty round glasses in their hands, they resembled impatient drunkards desperate for another drink.
Laura's attitude had already made things very clear—she was waiting for Eda to speak about what troubled her, so that she could offer the guidance of someone older and more experienced.
And in truth, Eda had nothing much to hesitate over. Setting aside Laura's somewhat awkward identity, she was still Eda's subordinate. Embarrassing one of her own people on her very first day as the boss didn't seem very appropriate.
Eda wasn't Grindelwald, possessed of overwhelming charisma; nor was she Voldemort, who liked to control Death Eaters through fear and intimidation. Besides, some things simply couldn't be hidden. Anyone who paid close attention to Hogwarts would notice the signs.
"Can I trust you?" Eda asked—a pointless question.
Eda looked at Laura. Her face carried the charming flush of intoxication. This woman should have been beautiful and attractive, but the scar running from her forehead to the corner of her mouth ruined what would otherwise have been a lovely face.
When she smiled and the corner of her mouth moved, the scar only became even more savage and ugly.
"Yes, and no," Laura answered. Her words contradicted themselves. She filled her glass again and drained it in one gulp. That was no way to drink alcohol—she truly seemed intent on getting herself drunk.
"Many times, I feel like I'm a lunatic. I can't even trust myself," Laura continued. "But I also have this strange confidence, this confidence that makes me feel you can trust me."
Eda picked up the bottle and poured some for herself, then some for Laura. While pouring, she said, "You really might be drunk already. You're starting to talk nonsense."
"I've been drunk for many years. I've never sobered up."
Drunken words, or madness? Perhaps that was the reason Laura Fournier had slashed her own face after Louis Rosier died.
Eda stopped beating around the bush and spoke of the worries she had been hiding ever since summer vacation began. Though perhaps they couldn't really be called worries, but rather concerns. Ever since entering Hogwarts, aside from her second year, every single year had been far from peaceful.
In her first year, Fawley had been searching the school for something, trying to bring Voldemort back. In her third year, Voldemort had attached himself to the back of Quirrell's head and personally come to the school, attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone and use its power to rise again.
In her fourth year, there had been the Chamber of Slytherin, which in the end also traced back to Voldemort—sixteen-year-old Voldemort. In her fifth year, there was the escaped Sirius, and Peter who had hidden for twelve years.
After going in a big circle, it turned out that this matter was also connected to Voldemort.
Of the past five years at Hogwarts, four had been tied to Voldemort in one way or another. And even the remaining year, when Dumbledore invited Cecil to teach, had been because he wanted to find out what Quirrell was searching for.
Every single one of these incidents was inextricably linked to Voldemort. The Voldemort who had created endless bloodshed and slaughter seemed truly on the verge of returning.
He was probably hiding somewhere now, secretly gathering strength, always preparing to plunge the world back into darkness.
The storm was coming. Peace would be shattered, darkness would once again descend upon this land, and those who hated the dark would rise up to resist it. And once war began, death would inevitably follow.
Even if death was unavoidable, it was still difficult to accept when it happened to friends and family. Eda did not want to see such scenes. But staying out of it, hiding away in France to enjoy herself alone, living in decadent luxury at Rose Manor—that wasn't Eda's nature either.
That was why she had experienced a moment of confusion, a moment of hesitation. What Eda feared was not Voldemort, not war, nor even her own death. What she feared was loss, and what worried her was also loss.
Once you've had certain things, you no longer want to let them go.
As she talked, without needing Laura to comfort her or offer any advice, Eda figured it out herself. She had simply been overthinking things, becoming timid, afraid of wolves ahead and tigers behind.
The way she was now didn't resemble herself at all. Someone who wanted to stand at the peak shouldn't look like this. Do it with all your heart, do it with everything you have—no matter what the world becomes in the end, as long as I can say I have no regrets.
Imitating Laura, Eda drained the glass in one gulp, only to choke because she drank too quickly. She coughed a few times and mocked herself, "How embarrassing…"
It was hard to tell whether Eda meant that her hesitation was embarrassing, or that choking on the drink was embarrassing. Perhaps both.
"I've always been paying attention to you. You've already done very well," Laura said. "Don't put too much pressure on yourself. Nothing in this world is ever truly perfect. It's precisely because there are flaws and regrets that the world becomes colorful."
Laura looked toward the red-brick building and said gloomily, "Although Louis's death caused Vinda immense pain, to the point where she believed everything was her fault… if she hadn't adopted Louis, he might never have met Jessica, and a girl named Esmeralda would never have been born into this world."
"If not for you, if not for all of you, what would Vinda have become?" Laura continued. "Just do what you want to do, and leave the rest to fate. Regret and hesitation are the most useless things in this world."
The summer night in Versailles was utterly quiet. In the garden, only the sound of two women clinking glasses could be heard. A large bottle of cognac was quickly emptied.
Shaking the completely empty bottle, not a sound came out. Unwilling to accept it, Eda pressed her eye close to the mouth of the bottle and peered inside. Sure enough, not a single drop of the clear amber liquid remained.
"It's gone, not even one drop left…" Hugging the bottle, Eda muttered, "It's all your fault. Why did you keep making toasts for no reason?"
"You look pretty smart and clever, so how do you keep doing stupid things?" Laura laughed. "That's obviously a glass bottle. Whether there's alcohol left inside is something you can see at a glance. Why are you sticking your eye to the opening?"
I, Esmeralda Twist, Hogwarts' number one genius, and someone dares call me stupid?
Deeply dissatisfied, Eda immediately glared fiercely at Laura, as though she were the basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets. I'll glare you to death!
"Nonsense!" Eda shouted. "What if this stupid bottle is lying to me? How can I feel assured without checking myself!"
Trying to reason with a drunk person was usually impossible, so Laura gave up on persuading Eda. Instead, she carefully watched her to make sure she didn't lose her balance and fall over.
If she actually fell, tomorrow's headlines would probably read: Young girl accidentally drowns in fountain after drunken fall—was this the distortion of morality or the decline of human nature…
Still clutching the bottle, Eda continued muttering things like "How can there be none left," or "This isn't magical at all," and other strange nonsense.
Forget Laura Fournier—no one had ever seen Eda like this before.
It sounded somewhat unbelievable, but Eda had always been highly guarded, yet she had gotten herself drunk right in front of Laura. No matter how one looked at it, it was a rather strange thing to do.
Perhaps Laura truly was charming. Perhaps it was because this was Rose Manor, and Vinda was here. Who knew? The thoughts of drunk people were difficult to understand to begin with, full of wild and fanciful ideas.
Looking at Eda before her, Laura became slightly dazed. Around Eda's eyes and brows were traces of Louis, mixed with some of Jessica's shadow as well. She had inherited only the best features of her parents.
Facing this strange yet adorable Eda, Laura finally couldn't hold back anymore—she made her move!
Laura suddenly reached out and gently pinched Eda's cheek, smiling as she sighed, "You're obviously just a silly little child, so why do you look this cute?"
The moonlight was bright, shining upon the two of them like a layer of transparent gauze draped over Laura and Eda. The scar pulled by Laura's smile no longer seemed savage or ugly at this moment.
Laura freely kneaded Eda's cheeks, feeling the smooth softness beneath her fingertips, feeling the trust Eda had placed in her.
Laura would probably never know that the moment she reached toward Eda, Eda's body instinctively tried to dodge. The only reason Laura failed to notice was because Eda forcibly stopped herself midway, making it seem as though she had merely swayed from drunkenness.
Laura would never know that, in the instant she reached out, she had come unimaginably close to death.
(～￣▽￣)～Read 12 Chapters ahead:
Patreon: Dragonel