It was an old-fashioned, elegant study. Rows upon rows of bookshelves were filled with countless books, written in many different languages — some even inscribed in ancient runes.
On the antique wooden desk sat a framed photograph of a man — the very same man from the photo album the house-elf had just been looking through.
The man was handsome; when not smiling, his face looked serious, but once he smiled, it was as warm as sunlight — as if it could melt the ice of winter.
The study's windows were tightly closed. In front of them stood a carved wooden rocking chair, swaying gently back and forth. An elderly woman sat upon it, eyes closed, resting. Once people grow old, their energy often wanes — such was the way of things.
Beauty lies in the bones, not the skin. Though the old woman's hair was silver and her face lined with wrinkles, one could still see traces of the grace and beauty she once had. Hearing the house-elf's call, the old lady slowly opened her eyes and said softly, "Is there good news, Agnes?"
The house-elf Agnes gave a deep bow. "Madam," she said, "the monster in Hogwarts Castle did not harm the young mistress. The latest news is that Dumbledore has already taken care of the creature in the Chamber of Secrets."
The old woman seemed displeased at hearing Dumbledore's name.
Distractedly, she murmured, "Agnes, do you think I should transfer her to Beauxbatons, or perhaps Durmstrang?"
"Perhaps the young mistress prefers Hogwarts — she has friends there," Agnes said cautiously, afraid of displeasing her mistress. The elf raised her small hands and held up the newspaper clipping before the old lady.
Taking the clipping, the old woman glanced through it as she spoke. "Yes… Louis was quite unhappy with my decisions back then. He even ran away from home because of it. His daughter, naturally, would be just like him. Even as her grandmother, I cannot simply arrange her life as I please."
"At that time, young master Louis was still very young, and could not yet understand your good intentions," Agnes said softly. "He always loved you very much."
The old woman did not reply. Instead, she focused her attention on the newspaper clipping. Louis was her lifelong regret — the most painful decision she had ever made, one that had cost her a brilliant son.
And because of that same decision, she and her even more exceptional granddaughter could only gaze at each other across the sea.
"Agnes, she's even more gifted than Louis was. At her age, her father could never have achieved something so remarkable." The old woman gently stroked the girl's face in the photo, her clouded eyes filled with tenderness. The girl in the picture was none other than Eda, who had just appeared in The Daily Prophet.
This old woman was Eda's grandmother, and the "Louis" she spoke of was Eda's father — the father Eda had only ever seen reflected in the Mirror of Erised.
Looking at Eda's photo, the house-elf Agnes felt a deep ache in her heart. She asked softly, "Madam, shall we bring the young mistress home this summer? She's suffered so much hardship out there."
But the old woman shook her head. Her gaze drifted toward the window as she said, "Not yet, Agnes. We must wait a little longer. The house may be small, but it must be cleaned properly first. Once I've finished putting everything in order, my little Eda can come home. Then she'll never have to endure such pain again."
Across the sea, in that distant home, neither the old woman nor the house-elf knew that the girl they spoke of — Eda, in the Scottish Highlands — had no idea that she even had a grandmother.
At that very moment, Eda was weighed down by trouble and far from happy.
Yes, she had become famous — but as the saying went, "Fame invites trouble, just as a fattened pig invites the butcher."
That was exactly Eda's situation now. The stories of what she had done at school had been printed in The Daily Prophet, letting countless wizards know her name — but it had also drawn jealousy and resentment.
Eda's sudden rise to fame had caught the attention of those who had never noticed her before.
They could tolerate Eda's arrogance within the walls of Hogwarts — after all, in their eyes, a mere student could stir up no real storm. But they could not allow her influence to spread beyond the school, nor accept that someone with an unclear background could rise so high.
The higher they lifted her, the harder they meant to make her fall.
First, they praised her insincerely, raising her reputation sky-high — then came the backlash: a flood of malicious rumors accusing Eda of arrogance, bullying classmates, defying professors, and committing every imaginable misdeed.
A wave of twisted, slanderous talk successfully tarnished Eda's image. Many people who didn't know the truth joined in, following the crowd and speaking ill of her. When it was revealed that Eda was an orphan, the attacks reached their peak — with all kinds of filthy insults and snide, mocking remarks flooding in.
The scene was oddly familiar — after all, Eda had just witnessed something similar happen to Lockhart. The only difference was that, so far, she didn't have any brainless fans jumping out to defend her.
But soon enough, those "brainless fans" appeared.
They restored the truth of what had happened, refuting the false accusations one by one. Public opinion shifted again — and Eda was once more hailed as the brightest star of the British wizarding world.
Her status as an orphan even earned her a vast number of "mom fans."
And these "mom fans" weren't joking — many of them were genuinely old enough to be Eda's mother.
However, those constantly changing public opinions weren't what Eda found troublesome. She couldn't care less about gossip spread by people who believed whatever they heard.
What truly bothered her was the flood of people suddenly trying to form connections with her — and, even worse, those coming forward claiming they wanted to adopt her.
Some went so far as to act hysterical, insisting that they were Eda's biological parents, who had only abandoned her back then because they had "no choice."
A few even came all the way to the school, crying and sniffling in front of Dumbledore, begging to "take Eda home." Some of them had never even seen her before, didn't know if she had any birthmarks or other identifying features, and a few couldn't even pronounce her full name correctly.
The entire spectacle was so absurd that even Dumbledore — wise and experienced as he was — found himself at a loss. As for Professor McGonagall, she was absolutely furious.
If she could have, she would have used the castle's stone gargoyles to chase every one of those impostors out of Hogwarts.
Even if Eda hadn't had the rumored close relationship with Dumbledore, nor been as close to Professor McGonagall as a daughter, her own talent and achievements alone were enough to make plenty of people start scheming.
Pure-blood families might still have their various scruples — concerns about "maintaining the purity of their bloodlines." But those who dared to publicly claim kinship with Eda, or even came directly to Hogwarts to do so, clearly had no such concerns.
Powerful, famous, good-looking, and obviously gifted — yet with no family background to support her — Eda looked like an opportunity to many of the smaller wizarding families. Taking a gamble on her, making an "investment" in her future — to them, it was well worth the risk.
Some extended olive branches, hoping to gain Eda's friendship and lay the groundwork for future cooperation. Others were more straightforward, attempting to bring Eda into their family — whether as a daughter or a future daughter-in-law.
There were also those who knew of Eda's close relationship with the Weasley family.
Many of them envied Arthur Weasley. Some thought he had been farsighted, betting on Eda before she became famous; others believed he'd simply gotten lucky — stumbling upon a hidden gem by chance.
But what they didn't know was that when the Weasleys took Eda in, it wasn't because they wanted to gamble or gain anything. They simply liked the girl and wanted to give her a home.
If one had to say the Weasleys were "lucky," then perhaps it was just as the saying goes — good things happen to good people.
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