Chapter 121: Hogwarts' Big Liar

Saturday's weather was gloomy and oppressive, making it hard to breathe. Eda's short break was about to come to an end.

During her stay in Little Whinging, she hadn't done anything productive—she had just wandered aimlessly around town. Finding the Boy Who Lived at the playground had been purely an unexpected bonus, something completely unplanned.

These past few days of leisure had been an excuse for Eda to take a break.

In Little Whinging, she wasn't a witch, nor did she have any other identity. She was just herself—doing nothing and trying not to think about anything.

If the twins hadn't sent over The Progress of Modern Dark Wizards, she could have continued relaxing. But really, all that had happened was that she had been tricked by an old man—it wasn't a big deal. At least, for now, that old man hadn't shown any greater malice.

There had always been a rumor at Hogwarts that no Defense Against the Dark Arts professor could last more than a year. They always ended up unable to continue teaching for various reasons.

No one knew exactly when this rumor had started, but everyone firmly believed it, because no professor had ever managed to break the pattern. Some had even given up after just half a term.

There was less than a month left in the school year. This meant that, at most, Eda had one more month before saying goodbye to Cecil. And Cecil was not some reckless fool like Fawley—he had once fought Dumbledore and knew exactly how formidable he was.

Once the term ended, their paths in life would no longer intersect.

Eda would return to the Burrow to live with the Weasley family, while Cecil might go back to the countryside to continue his research on Dark Magic—if his body could hold out that long.

To be honest, Eda felt conflicted. Cecil was not the same as the previous DADA fool. Though he had deceived her, he had also given her a great deal of help with her studies. Without him, she never would have been able to access those restricted books.

This was what made Eda so uncomfortable—he had given her so much help, yet he had also played her for a fool. She genuinely wanted to snap his pipe in half. If it weren't for Cecil's terrible health, she might have even tampered with his tobacco, forcing him to take up residence in the lavatory. 

Wait a minute—was Cecil really at death's door?

Could his frailty be yet another deception? 

But the potions had been prepared by Snape, and Eda had seen Cecil drink them with her own eyes.

That couldn't be faked.

When she first learned about Cecil's illness, she had felt genuinely sad. If even his sickness turned out to be a lie, then this grudge would never be resolved! 

It wasn't entirely Eda's fault for being so suspicious. Once someone deceived you once, there was always a second time… and even a third…

She needed to stop thinking about Cecil. If she kept going down this road, she'd start believing there were no good people left in the world. 

Pushing those thoughts aside, Eda went to say goodbye to Mrs. Valente before leaving the orphanage. She had already sent her belongings ahead the night before. That poor owl was truly unlucky—constantly flying back and forth between Scotland and England. Eda was starting to think it had lost weight from all the travel. 

She had arranged to meet Professor McGonagall in the afternoon, but it was still morning, so she headed to the graveyard. This was the first time she had visited since Lady Mary's burial on Monday.

After today, Eda didn't know if she would ever return.

With her personality, she might unknowingly offend some powerful wizard one day and meet an untimely end. Who could say what the future held? If you didn't believe it, you could ask Professor Trelawney—she supposedly predicted a student's death every year, but when had she ever been right? 

Eda wasn't sure how the Wizards honored their dead; she had no experience with such things.

Standing in front of Lady Mary's tombstone, Eda no longer felt overwhelming sorrow. Her days of wandering the town had actually helped. At the very least, they had allowed her to let go of many burdens and worries. 

From now on, Eda was just Eda. All the unpleasantness of the past would be buried here with Lady Mary, confined forever to this small graveyard and its deep, silent tomb. 

Hmm?

She sensed someone approaching.

Eda instinctively gripped her wand. No matter where she went, she always kept it on her, in a place where she could draw it quickly. 

"Keeping your guard up at all times is good," a hoarse voice remarked. "But you also need to be able to recognize whether the person approaching is a friend or a foe." 

The voice was rough, no doubt the result of excessive smoking. 

Eda turned around and saw Glover Cecil packing tobacco into his pipe.

He looked utterly exhausted, his face pale as a sheet. 

Eda didn't lower her wand. Cecil's sudden appearance only deepened her suspicions.

Cecil lit his pipe and took a deep drag, closing his eyes as he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. He looked at Eda, who still remained on guard, and smiled. "Looks like you've figured it all out."

The two of them had had a similar conversation before—except that time, the topic was Cecil's illness. This time, it was about how he had deceived her.

"Well, I read a story in a book that completely contradicts what you told me," Eda said. "Tell me, which version should I believe? Should I believe you, or should I trust Modern Advances in Dark Magic, a book that doesn't even have an author's name?"

"As your teacher, let me give you one last lesson." Cecil took another puff of his pipe before continuing. "The human heart is wicked. As long as someone is human, they are unreliable. So never trust anyone."

"Oh? To live a life without even one person to trust, one person to rely on—doesn't that seem like a failure of a life?" Eda didn't agree with Cecil's view; he was far too absolute in his thinking.

Cecil wasn't the least bit concerned about the wand in Eda's hand. He walked forward and stood beside her in front of Lady Mary's gravestone.

"Of course, you can trust people," Cecil said. "But you must always be prepared for betrayal. Just like you chose to believe my story, only to find out in the end that it was all a lie—and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Of course," Cecil added, putting away his pipe and looking at Eda intently, "if you enjoy trusting people but don't want to be betrayed, then you need to have the power of someone like Dumbledore or Voldemort. That way, you can decide who deserves your trust—because you won't fear betrayal. You can take your trust back anytime you like."

Eda suddenly felt that Cecil's words made some sense.

The wizarding world had always been a place where strength was supreme—weakness was the original sin, and brute force was the ultimate truth.

As long as one was powerful enough, even committing murder and arson wouldn't stop them from being the most dazzling figure in the magical world. Weaklings had no right to speak of trust, because betraying them came with no consequences.

As Eda's thoughts spiraled, the ring on the ring finger of her left hand suddenly emitted a gentle light. In an instant, she snapped back to reality, and the sense of agreement she had felt toward Cecil's words diminished.

Flexing her left hand, Eda thought to herself: This must have been how he got me last time—I let myself be completely swayed by his story. I've been fooled twice now by Cecil… I really am an idiot!

Cecil had been watching Eda the whole time, and the changes in her expression did not escape his notice. But even though his little trick had failed, he showed no signs of disappointment. Instead, he smiled.

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