The atmosphere in the cemetery suddenly grew even more tense, and the air felt thick with the scent of death.
Yet, at such a serious moment, Thierry suddenly burst into loud laughter. He laughed for quite a while before stopping awkwardly — because he realized he was the only one laughing.
Thierry first looked at Eda, who not only wasn't laughing but had her lips pressed tightly together, then turned to the three people who had come with him. Spreading his hands, he asked, "Why's no one laughing? Was that joke not funny?"
"Isn't it obvious enough?" said a middle-aged wizard with a huge beard. His facial hair was so thick that when he didn't speak, one couldn't even tell where his mouth was.
Another wizard, even older, added, "Based on my observations these past few days, the fact that Miss Twist didn't knock you out on the spot is already the miracle of your lifetime."
The last wizard, very young and unusually tall, didn't speak, but he nodded in agreement with his companions.
Eda felt relieved that her own mind was indeed fine — the problem was clearly with the old man across from her, who was old enough to be her grandfather.
Even Filch could tell better jokes than this. If she hadn't wanted to understand their true purpose, she would've already blasted him with an Avada Kedavra and sent him home.
"I thought about that one for so long, and not even a bit of face you give me," Thierry muttered. "Just as unlovable as your grandmother."
"What did you just say?" Eda asked. It was rude, but she honestly hadn't caught his mumbling clearly.
Thierry Rosier loudly declared, "I said, you're just as unlikable as your grandmother, Vinda Rosier! Louis, that kid, was far more pleasant than you."
He might not look reliable, but Thierry clearly knew exactly what he was doing.
Without waiting for Eda to continue questioning him, he went on, "Vinda Rosier is your grandmother. Louis Rosier is your father. Just like me, they're all members of the Rosier family from France."
There was too much information at once. Eda felt she needed a moment to sort out her thoughts. Her eyes remained fixed on Thierry.
If he made even the slightest suspicious move, she would take him out immediately — thinning the enemy's numbers was always the safest option.
Seeing Eda stare at him, Thierry shrank his neck back in disgust. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not your grandfather. When we were young, Vinda bullied me plenty."
It really was true — if you want to bully your younger siblings, start early. She wondered if Vinda, all the way back in France, could still throw a punch at her age.
"So either you're here to kill me in order to wash away the Rosier family's shame," Eda said, voicing her own conclusion, "or you want me to go meet someone with you." She personally found the first explanation more convincing.
Thierry waved his hand dismissively. "I already told you — your father Louis is very likable, and you have no idea how terrifying your grandmother is."
Most younger brothers, no matter how beautiful their elder sisters are, never seem to notice.
"We're here to bring you home," the young man who hadn't spoken until now finally said. "My name is Henry Rosier — we're of the same generation. That unreliable old man is my grandfather."
Thierry, the "unreliable" one, shot a glance over his shoulder at Henry Rosier. The young man immediately shut his mouth, spreading his hands in a gesture that looked very much like his grandfather's.
Thierry said, "At Christmas, you received a gold bracelet with two griffins engraved on it. That was a gift from Vinda."
He muttered again under his breath, "Though I still think the combination of gold and rubies is far too tacky."
Eda stared at Thierry in disbelief. It must've been quite a miracle that this old man had lived to such an age. With a mouth like his, the fact that Vinda hadn't beaten him to death suggested she might not be as terrifying as they claimed.
If Ron dared speak to her like that, Eda would certainly show him just how merciful the twins were. A giant eight-eyed spider the size of a small car — wouldn't he like a nice, close-up view?
Seeing his grandfather losing all semblance of composure again, Henry naturally took over. "There were others watching you at that little pub. We got rid of them two days ago. I think you should know who they were by now."
After learning that the father who abandoned her was a Rosier, she had already guessed. But that didn't mean Eda trusted the four people standing in front of her. Trust couldn't be built with a few sentences.
Henry Rosier noticed this as well. He continued, "I know you don't trust us. If I were you, I wouldn't trust us either. Only idiots don't understand what pure-blood families are really like."
"Watch your tongue, Henry!" Thierry snapped, his expression suddenly stern.
Thierry pulled a letter from his pocket. He didn't hand it to Eda — instead, he placed it on the ground. He spoke with surprising seriousness: "There's only an address inside. That's where all your answers are. You can choose to read it, or you can choose not to."
"But remember this — the Weasleys' house is not your real home." Thierry pointed at the letter on the ground as he spoke. "That place is. There is an old woman there who will wait for you, until the day she can no longer stand."
After saying this, the white-haired old man, Thierry Rosier, was the first to leave the cemetery. Out of respect for Lady Mary, he did not Apparate until he walked outside the cemetery. The other two did the same.
Now, only Eda and Henry Rosier remained. Henry asked seriously, "Do you mind if I say a few more words?"
"I don't mind." Eda's eyes remained fixed on the letter, though she didn't pick it up immediately.
"Are there many girls at Hogwarts? Any of them good-looking, single, and Muggle-born?" Henry Rosier suddenly switched expressions, his face now full of lecherous excitement.
Eda tilted her head and looked at Henry.
This grandfather–grandson pair was truly ..strange.
From his solemn expression just moments ago, she had thought he was going to tell her something important — some advice, or perhaps a warning.
And instead… this!
With great enthusiasm, Henry pointed at himself and declared, "I am a man who yearns for freedom! I don't want to marry a pure-blood witch. But if I marry a Muggle, my grandfather might actually die on the spot. So I compromised — my goal is now Muggle-born witches!"
"That's quite the compromise," Eda muttered, unable to stop herself from joining the small-bickering tone.
Henry strode toward Eda. He was extremely tall, at least six feet five. He grabbed Eda by both arms and shook her as he spoke excitedly, "Esmeralda— no— Eda— no, wait, Cousin! If you help me with this, from now on you'll be my real sister! If that brat Vincent Rosier dares to bother you again, I'll beat him up for you!"
Standing in front of the towering Henry, Eda looked terribly frail — like a tiny skiff tossed on stormy waves, ready to capsize at any moment.
Under such overwhelming pressure, she had no choice but to bow her head. Only after Eda struggled to squeeze out a single word — "Fine" — did Henry release her. Delighted, he said, "Sister, don't worry! When I go back to France tomorrow, I'll go beat up Vincent! As for Hogwarts — that's on you!"
Watching the giant Henry hop merrily out of the cemetery, Eda's expression was absolutely priceless. What kind of divine relatives were these Rosiers supposed to be?
One group was hell-bent on killing her, while another was enthusiastically offering protection.
People always say inbreeding leads to problems — so was the hereditary disease in Thierry and Henry's branch of the family being completely out of tune with reality?
Read 12 Chapters ahead:
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