“See her?
Over there, across from Harry Potter.” “The girl with black hair and black eyes?” “Yeah, that’s her!
The one who turned boogers into bullets to attack a classmate!” “Really?
But she’s so pretty…
I mean, she looks so sweet.
Could she have had a good reason?” “Shut up, you shallow idiot!
I heard all about it—the guy was just picking his nose, and she thought it was gross.
The victim’s still in the Hospital Wing!
Word is her shot shattered the bridge of his nose and left two extra holes right between his eyes!” “She’s that violent?
She won’t hit me, will she?” Two Hufflepuffs pretended to stroll casually past the Gryffindor table before sneaking back around for another look.
Ariana: …
Harry: …
Ariana flew into a rage.
“When did I ever turn anything into bullets to hit people?!
Look at me—I’m gentle, I’m kind!
Do I look like that kind of person?!
Keep spouting nonsense and I’ll rip the teeth right out of your mouths!” The two swapped terrified glances and bolted for the exit, not even bothering to grab a quick slice of bread from their own house table for lunch.
One shrieked as he ran, “I told you she was vicious!
See?
Turning boogers into bullets isn’t even enough for her anymore!” The other stole a reluctant glance back.
“But she’s so pretty…
She even looks good when she’s mad.
If I let her punch me a couple times to blow off steam, do you think she’d go out on a date with me?” “Has she already beaten the brains out of your head?!” Beside her, Harry fought so hard to suppress his laughter that his head was practically buried in his chest.
“Even if I beat you to death, I wouldn’t stop by your grave to take a single look!” Fuming, Ariana gave her wand a fierce flick.
A baguette on the table shot after the pair like a javelin, thumping each of them on the head three times before jamming itself firmly into the chatty one’s mouth.
“If your mouth is that free, eat more!
Since your brain has completely ceased operation, at least give one organ on that lump above your shoulders a reason to exist!” She rounded on the surrounding students with a fierce glare.
“If I hear anyone else spreading rumors, I’ll transfigure their nose hairs into needles and stab them right into their nostrils!
Coincidentally, I just learned how to do that in Transfiguration today!” With a sharp wave of her wand, a loose thread sticking out of the tablecloth turned into a needle, stabbing straight down into the fabric.
*My, today’s food sure is food,* the onlookers thought, hurriedly bowing their heads.
Harry, however, did the exact opposite.
He raised his head, his eyes brimming with envy as he looked at Ariana.
Transfiguration was ridiculously hard.
After a whole period of the entire class waving their wands around, only Hermione’s match had shown any change.
Yet here was Ariana, already turning threads into needles.
She was amazing.
Ariana’s fierce gaze swept over to him.
Harry jolted, hastily grabbing a napkin to wrap up a couple of items from the table.
“I—I’m going to bring Ron some food!
He’s still in the Hospital Wing; he needs to eat to regain his strength.” He held up the plain dry bread as proof.
“Then hurry up and go!” Ariana gnawed on her steak with crunching bites, as though chewing on someone’s flesh.
All things considered, however, life studying at a magical school wasn’t half bad.
After losing major face in Transfiguration class, she had resolved to learn her lesson.
She found an empty classroom to practice on her own, and after a few attempts, she could fluently turn matches into needles.
Then she tried dyeing matches black, bending them, breaking them, and transfiguring them—all with complete success.
Ariana wasn’t satisfied with just that, though.
She tried adding carved details to the needles, succeeding after a few failures.
Although it was just a squiggly line, it boosted her confidence immensely.
If she ever couldn’t make it in the wizarding world, she could just go set up a stall among Muggles to sell needles.
She’d claim they were handcrafted artisan pieces and mark up the price!
Right!
Back when she did odd jobs in Chinatown, she had seen Chinese shops selling micro-carvings—intricate landscapes carved onto tiny walnuts.
They were gorgeous.
When she found out how much a single tiny walnut went for, tears of shock had flooded from the corners of her mouth.
—Only to be misunderstood by the shopkeeper, who thought she was drooling for the walnuts, and scolded her: “A wild pig can’t appreciate fine grain!” If she could carve those designs on something as thin as a needle, wouldn’t it sell for even more?
At just the thought, Ariana felt her wand-waving arm swell with strength.
It was undeniably difficult, though.
She spent an entire lunch hour practicing, yet before Herbology class that afternoon, all she managed to add were two neat wavy lines.
Pouting, she headed off to Herbology.
The Herbology teacher was Professor Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff House.
She was a dumpy, plainly dressed witch who always wore a gentle smile, making her feel welcoming and approachable, just like the lovely plants she introduced to them.
Ariana liked her.
She also liked the mushrooms demonstrated in the first class.
They looked delicious—though she had never eaten them.
Charms was taught by Professor Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw.
He had goblin ancestry and had to stand on a stack of books to teach.
When taking attendance, he had gotten so excited upon reaching Harry’s name that he fell off his pile with a yelp and vanished from sight—a performance that led Ariana to suspect he wasn’t entirely reliable.
That little episode wasted about ten minutes.
Perhaps due to the lack of time, Professor Flitwick didn’t teach any spells during the first lesson.
Instead, he covered the origin and development of charms before asking the class: “Has anyone already managed to learn a spell or two?” Hermione demonstrated *Reparo*, and Professor Flitwick awarded Gryffindor five points.
“Anyone else?
If you succeed, I’ll grant you points as well.” Ron raised his hand hesitantly.
“Fred taught me one.” “Please, go ahead and show us, Mr.
Weasley.” Ron pulled out his wand: “Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!” The fat rat stared at them blankly, its fur remaining completely unchanged.
“Oh…
guess it doesn’t really work.” Ron’s face instantly flushed as red as his hair, and he muttered as he sat back down.
“It’s completely normal for young witches and wizards to struggle with controlling their magic,” Professor Flitwick consoled him.
“With practice, it will improve!
Anyone else?” Malfoy began snicker-laughing, lowering his voice to taunt, “Not even a spark!
You aren’t a Squib, are you, Weasley?” Ron glared at Malfoy with a red face.
“Oh, like you’re so great!
I don’t see you casting any spells!” Malfoy stuck his nose in the air and flicked his wand.
“*Wingardium Leviosa!*” The quill on the table wobbled and floated into the air.
“A splendid Levitation Charm!
Five points to Slytherin!” “Did you think everyone was as useless as you, Weasley?” Malfoy’s nose tilted practically straight to the ceiling.
Ron’s face turned the color of pig’s liver.
Breathing heavily in fury, he suddenly turned to Ariana.
“Didn’t you say you were sorry and wanted to make it up to me?!
I don’t want anything else—just cast a spell and show up Malfoy!” Ariana: …
*I was just being polite.
You’re actually taking me up on it?!* Seeing her silent, Ron assumed she couldn’t remember what spell to use and eagerly suggested, “The one where you turned my booger into a silver bean!
That one’s great!” He eyed Malfoy’s gaping nostrils and hissed maliciously, “Transfigure Malfoy’s boogers!” Malfoy jerked his neck back instantly.
“Weasley, have you gotten so pathetic that you have to hide behind a girl?” Even so, he cautiously covered his nostrils.
“No one commands me, Ron!” Ariana pulled out her wand with annoyance.
The surrounding students instantly scattered, everyone anxiously clutching their noses.
In a split second, her location went from a bustling crowd to a deserted wasteland.
“And what do you mean by that?!
You look down on women?!” Ariana turned her gaze to Malfoy.
Malfoy covered his nose even tighter, looking ready to call for the professor at any second.
However, Ariana’s wand didn’t point at him.
She aimed at the quill floating above the classroom and slashed her wand through the air.
*BOOM!* The quill exploded in a burst of flames, a shower of black ash drifting down.
“The Blasting Curse!
That’s upper-year material!
Though the scale wasn’t large, casting it at your age is remarkable!
Ten points to Gryffindor!” Ariana’s eyes instantly lit up.
The moment class ended, she darted straight over to Professor Flitwick.
“Professor, could you tell me more about the Blasting Curse in detail?”