Chapter Text
In southern France in August, the weather was stiflingly hot.
Evelyn Umbridge lay listlessly on a lounge chair indoors, her slender fingertips gently stroking the tender green leaves of a gardenia plant.
This gardenia plant was called Little Gardenia.
She had rescued it by chance when she was four years old, and since then, she had kept it by her side, carefully tending to it.
Recently, she had changed the fertilizer for Little Gardenia, and the plant clearly liked it.
Coupled with the nourishment of the summer sunlight, the leaves and flowers were spreading out, and its growth was becoming more vigorous.
Evelyn would get up very early almost every day, move it into the sunlight, and let it bask in the sun before the sun became too harsh.
"Never mind Evelyn, let's go."
A muffled female voice came from outside the door.
Evelyn recognized it as her mother, Ihela Umbridge.
Ihela, a beautiful and shrewd French mixed-race witch, had navigated the pure-blood families with her effortless charm, and had been the mistress of more than one man.
As for Evelyn's father, he was merely a fleeting affair after a drunken night at a party.
Evelyn didn't even know who he was.
Ihela had told her without hesitation: "You are just a mistake I made when I was pregnant, driven by hormones."
Ihela didn't love her, Evelyn had known that since she was very young.
Sometimes Evelyn would think that perhaps it was Merlin's pity and compensation that she possessed a power that no one knew about.
She could communicate with plants, and even give or take away their life.
"Evelyn, aren't you going with the White family to watch the Quidditch World Cup?"
Little Gardenia asked softly, the soft leaves brushing against her fingertips.
"The White siblings have all gone."
"Why would I go? They don't like me anyway," Evelyn said flatly.
A faint green light emanated from her fingertips, and little gardenia's leaves immediately trembled more happily.
The 1975 Quidditch World Cup was held in France.
Even though she was only Augustin White's mistress, Ihela easily obtained an invitation thanks to her beauty.
However, in the eyes of Mrs. White and her children—Alexander White and Margot White—Ihela and Evelyn were an eyesore.
Ihela often accompanied Augustin to various events, leaving Evelyn as the main target of their harassment.
Evelyn had inherited Ihela's beauty, and her silver hair and gray eyes were identical to Ihela's.
Because of this, every malicious remark directed at Ihela was more easily aimed at her.
Living under someone else's roof, she could only silently endure it.
"You don't need them to like you, I like you!" Little Gardenia said firmly, "I like Evelyn the most!" A smile finally appeared on Evelyn's lips, but it quickly faded into sadness.
Before moving into White Manor two years ago, she still had Raffi, the house-elf who had taken care of her since childhood.
But before moving, Ihela sold Raffi to someone else.
Now, the White family and Ihela had already left.
In White Manor, besides her, there was only the house-elf Roy.
However, Roy had always been cold towards her, even hostile, and never willing to speak more than a few words to her.
Bored, Evelyn spread out her summer homework and quietly began to finish it.
Little Gardenia seemed afraid she was lonely, and kept chattering in her ear, gossiping about Alexander and Margot.
Little Gardenia had a special ability.
Once separated from the main plant, its leaves and petals could still perceive sound within a certain range.
So, Evelyn secretly hid some of little gardenia 's petals and leaves in the corners of White Manor to eavesdrop on conversations.
She also wore a pair of earrings made from little Gardenia's flower buds, making it easy to communicate with Little gardenia at any time.
In this scorching and lonely summer, little Gardenia was her only solace.
Evelyn, while writing her homework, absentmindedly listened to little gardenia's chatter.
She occasionally responded with a few words, her quill pen writing beautiful lines of text on the parchment.
Suddenly, a clear male voice interrupted little gardenia's chatter.
"What a terrible shot!"
The voice carried obvious dissatisfaction and contempt, and most importantly, it was in English.
Evelyn froze, her quill pen suspended in mid-air. She held her breath, wanting to hear more, but only little gardenia's chirping continued.
"Little Gardenia," Evelyn had to interrupt, "Did you hear a boy talking just now? In English?"
Little Gardenia shook her flower head in confusion, innocently replying, "No, Little Eve, I didn't hear anything."
Evelyn's brow furrowed slightly. Was it a hallucination? But why would the hallucination be a male voice? And one with a distinctly British accent? Evelyn stood up uneasily, walked to the door and peeked out, then returned to the room and looked out the window.
The night was pitch black, the air so quiet it was almost still, and there was nothing there.
"Maybe I misheard..." she muttered softly, shaking her head, and buried herself back in her alchemy homework.
Meanwhile, at the Quidditch World Cup in France, the atmosphere was electric.
The stands were packed with people, cheers and whistles intertwined, the air filled with fervent excitement.
"Bang!" The Bludger slammed into the scoreboard tower, instantly shattering the wooden planks, sending splinters flying everywhere.
"What a terrible shot!"
James Potter jumped up from his seat, shouting in disbelief, his tone full of undisguised disgust.
Euphemia and Fleamont exchanged a helpless glance, but couldn't help but laugh.
"That shot was absolutely awful!"
James complained to Euphemia, taking a bite of the scone she offered him, muttering indistinctly, "If Sirius were here..."
"He would definitely be cursing along with me here," he thought.
Thinking of his friend being held captive in the Black family's old mansion, James's brow furrowed involuntarily, a feeling of unease settling in his heart.
Just then, he caught a strange scent.
James paused, thinking it smelled like some kind of flower.
Light and clear, the scent wasn't unpleasant in the stuffy summer night.
"Mom! Did you smell any flower scent?" James turned his head and asked anxiously.
Euphemia and Fleamont exchanged glances, both sniffing lightly, then shook their heads blankly: "No."
James's expression became somewhat dazed.
He took a deep breath, trying to catch the scent again, but in an instant, it vanished without a trace.
James was startled, a hint of suspicion rising in his heart.
Was it just his imagination?
Before James could think further, the cheers from the stadium and the excited noise of the commentator quickly drew his attention back.
The faint scent was quickly forgotten.
[Evelyn's Diary]
[August 23, 1975, Sunny]
Another boring day. Boring routine, boring harassment.
I'm increasingly suspicious that Alexander is a complete illiterate; his vocabulary is so pathetic that he can only repeat the same few insulting phrases over and over again.
Thinking about it, it makes sense, considering he consistently ranks last every year.
Such a level of intelligence...
It makes sense.
Remember to go to Magic Alley tomorrow to buy some dew for Little Gardenia.
The summer in southern France is really annoying; it's incredibly dry, and collecting dew myself is practically impossible.
Little Gardenia has been in great spirits lately, and I don't want it to be unhappy because of a lack of dew.
Maybe I should go for a walk while I'm at it.
I've been staying at White Manor for too long; I inexplicably experienced auditory hallucinations today.
The strangest thing is, the voice was speaking English.
Maybe I've really been alone for too long, and my brain is starting to play tricks on me.
Heh, I'm suddenly a little envious of Alexander.
With his intelligence and English level, even if he heard such a hallucination, he definitely wouldn't understand it.
He'd probably just think the sound was a bird singing.