The words made the Rosiers at the long table suck in a sharp breath. British wizards feared Voldemort and avoided speaking his name, but the "that man" Alin Rosier had just referred to was not Voldemort, but the first Dark Lord of the century— Gellert Grindelwald.
Though decades had passed and many people had even forgotten Grindelwald's terror, his name remained a memory the European continent was unwilling to revisit.
The storms of bloodshed Grindelwald once unleashed had caused too much pain. And by Grindelwald's side, there had always been a steadfast female follower — Vinda Rosier.
At the rally in the Père Lachaise Cemetery, she was the one who held the skull and witnessed Grindelwald's great prophecy; she was also the first to step through the blue flames, offering Grindelwald her loyalty; she followed him through life and death, and she was the last believer to leave Nurmengard.
Vinda Rosier was Grindelwald's most loyal follower, and also his most humble admirer. Someone once asked her, "Are you married?" and Vinda answered, "It's better to say… my heart has already chosen."
Her body and soul belonged to Grindelwald — entirely, completely his.
To the Rosier family, Vinda was the most dazzling rose the family had ever produced. Her talent, and the man she had followed and sworn loyalty to, made her the family's heir and eventually its leader.
Under Grindelwald's banner, Vinda led the Rosier family forward through thorns and storms, their reputation at one point even surpassing the Blacks and the Lestranges.
But good times never last. After the fateful duel of 1945, Grindelwald exited the stage. With the first Dark Lord sealing himself away in Nurmengard, the Rosier family — once at its peak — naturally faced retribution, with Vinda bearing the brunt of it.
The Rosier family's influence plummeted overnight. They surrendered many interests and lost a great amount of wealth before the family was allowed to survive.
But Vinda was not so fortunate. She not only lost her faith, but also her position as head of the family, and together with her comrades, she was imprisoned and suffered countless hardships to atone for their crimes.
If not for the tireless efforts of the white-haired elder, Thierry Rosier, Vinda would likely still be languishing in prison today — if she had even lived this long.
After her release, Vinda did not return to Nurmengard, nor did she return to the Rosier Manor filled with blooming roses. Instead, she moved alone to Paris, to the house where she had once lived together with Grindelwald and her comrades.
Vinda packed away everything related to Grindelwald and the war, and lived out her twilight years alone in that Muggle dwelling. In that somber, lifeless house, her only companions were her house-elves — until Louis appeared.
Though she had lost the position of family head and spent time in prison, Vinda Rosier was still Vinda Rosier.
She still possessed a great fortune: some inherited from her parents, some gifted by her followers.
However, Vinda never married and had no children — her heart had long ago chosen someone. With no heirs, all this wealth would eventually fall into the hands of other greedy members of the Rosier family.
At first, Vinda did not care. She had little attachment left to the world — let alone to material possessions.
But Thierry couldn't bear the thought of Vinda living and dying alone, and he kept trying to persuade her. After much gentle persistence from Thierry, Vinda finally wavered. She decided to follow his advice — and adopt a child.
Pure-blood families, in order to maintain the purity of their bloodlines, often resorted to marrying within the family. Naturally, if Vinda wanted to adopt a child, she couldn't simply walk into an orphanage, pick one she liked, and bring them home.
She could only choose a child from within the family and legally transfer them under her name.
All the Rosiers who had suitable children began showing off their strengths, each eyeing the fortune that did not belong to them. In the end, the finalists were Alan Rosier — already old enough to remember things — and a little boy who had just learned to speak: Louis Rosier.
Between the predetermined choice of Alan and the "token extra" Louis, Vinda chose Louis — not Alan, whose blood ties with her were closer. She liked this little boy who giggled the moment he saw her.
And Louis did not disappoint her. He was clever, lively, bright, and charming. Even at Durmstrang, Louis was one of the very best. He was like a ray of sunlight piercing into Vinda's bleak life.
Sometimes Vinda wondered: if she hadn't chosen Louis back then, would he never have met that Muggle girl from Britain? Would he never have withered so early?
Vinda didn't let herself drown in memories any longer. She had come to Calais today for something far more important.
She had missed her chance once already — she could not afford to make the same mistake again. She could no longer bear such errors.
"Unlike you, we see farther, and we are not so heartless," Vinda Rosier said. "Our purpose is to let all witches and wizards breathe freely, to stand above."
For the sake of a greater good!
Grindelwald did not start that war to exterminate Muggles or to wipe out Muggle-born wizards.
The first Dark Lord might have had secrets and intentions unknown to others, but he was not a narrow-minded person. Many pure-blood families could not understand that — could not see beyond their own limits. The Vinda Rosier of the past had been the same.
"But you still unleashed that catastrophe, didn't you?" Alan Rosier's words grew sharper and sharper. "You nearly destroyed all of Paris, didn't you?"
Seeing that Vinda did not respond, Alan continued, "If not for your willful stubbornness, how would the Rosiers have declined? If not for that damned slogan of yours, the Rosiers would be more glorious than ever!"
"Risen by my hand, fallen by my hand — what of it?" Vinda shot back. Even in old age, she was still the Vinda Rosier who once stood above ten thousand, not someone a fool like Alan Rosier could question.
The utterly ignorant and reckless Vincent Rosier once again thought he had the right to speak. He stood up again, ready to refute this "senseless old hag." But just as he opened his mouth, he met Vinda's gaze — a gaze hiding mountains of corpses and oceans of blood, hiding an endless killing intent.
Vincent swore that in his short life so far, he had never been so terrified. He dropped back into his chair at once, sitting as still as a quail. The argument he had prepared died in his throat.
"Thank you, Thierry," Vinda said to the white-haired elder, "It was you who brought the excellent Louis to me — and Louis who brought the even more exceptional little Eda into my life."
Everyone at the table turned to look at Alan. As head of the family, this was the moment he should step forward, the moment he should stop Vinda from "disgracing" the Rosier name.
They feared Vinda Rosier, yes — but even more, they did not want to become laughingstocks among other pure-blood families, to become another Potter or Weasley.
"We will never allow that child to be acknowledged by the family — never!" Alan Rosier declared. "Just like the Blacks did, we will never allow that brat to bear the name Rosier!"
The others echoed him one after another, muttering phrases like "The noble, pure Rosier line must not be defiled," though none with the same force that Alan used.
The white-haired elder Thierry remained silent. The others did not understand Vinda, but how could someone who had grown up alongside her fail to know her heart? Once she decided something, it could not be changed.
And just as Thierry expected, Vinda was not intimidated by the family's united front. Instead, she let out a contemptuous laugh, and her clouded eyes once again shone with the brilliance of her younger days.
She said, "What's so noble about the Rosiers? And how do you know my little Eda would even want to take your surname? Or do you think it's some great honor to be related to idiots like you?"
"Vinda Rosier, don't forget you're a Rosier too!" Alan shouted in anger. "Rosier blood runs in your veins as well!"
"Rubbish," Vinda said impatiently. "I didn't come here to discuss anything with you. I came to inform you. Whether you like it or not, Esmeralda Twist is my granddaughter. She is my one and only heir."
After speaking, Vinda used the long table for support as she stood up. She looked slowly, one by one, at the younger family members seated on both sides.
Whether it was the closeness of shared blood or simple intuition, Vinda spoke a line that felt eerily familiar.
She said slowly, "If anything unfortunate happens to my little Eda—anything that keeps me from seeing her again—I will hold every one of you here responsible. And when that happens, the Rosier family will no longer have any reason to exist."
The living room fell silent in an instant. No one dared to speak. They simply watched wordlessly as the old woman turned and slowly walked away.
Read 12 Chapters ahead:
Patreon.com/Dragonel