On the first Sunday of the school term, Ariana sat in the library, organizing her checklist.
Subject 1: Transfiguration: School Coursework: ① Able to turn a match into a needle within five seconds (including incantation time) [✓] ② Able to engrave embossed relief patterns on the needle [✓] ③ Able to turn three matches in a row into perfect needles [✓] ④ Professor McGonagall’s required six-inch essay [✓] Outline: 3 inches [✓] Draft: 12 inches [✓] First Draft: 10 inches [✓] Final Draft: 8 inches [✓] Final Draft (1): 6 inches [✓] After a long string of checkmarks, Ariana let out a deep sigh.
Trimming a twelve-inch essay down to six inches was no easy feat.
To do it, she had to ensure her language was concise, her logic crystal-clear, cut every single argument that wasn’t strictly essential to the core thesis, and write her handwriting as small as humanly possible.
However, in doing so, she gained a much deeper understanding of the essay topic.
She could guarantee this version was more than three times better than the first draft.
Simply perfect.
No, wait—there was still one problem.
Because she had made corrections on this version, there were a few stray ink blobs, and parts of the handwriting weren’t entirely neat.
What if this minor flaw dropped her mark from an ‘O’ down to an ‘E’?!
She could not tolerate such a dreadful thing happening!
Ariana pulled out a fresh sheet of blank parchment with a crisp swish, checked Final Draft (1) for any typos, and began recopying Final Draft (2).
Thank goodness the library provided free parchment for students to use as much as they wanted; otherwise, she would go bankrupt buying parchment sooner or later.
All in all, Ariana’s Hogwarts life was immensely fulfilling.
Especially when homework was handed back and every subject bore an ‘O’, just as she expected—giving her even more motivation to study.
Mm, and then there was one other matter—though not entirely moral, she still relished it from time to time: during Potions, Professor Snape held up her essay to mock Harry and Ron’s nonsensical, rambling gibberish, saying the parchment itself would regret not rotting in the paper mill if it knew what was written on it, and telling them to learn from her…
Although she had kept her head down at the time looking thoroughly embarrassed, behind the hand covering her face, her smile was wide enough to flash her gums.
Sorry, Harry and Ron, you two suffered, but ho-ho-ho-ho, she was so darn happy.
That’s right—she was just that vain.
What was the point of working so hard to get top marks on homework if you couldn’t show off in public?
That would be like wearing fine silks in the dark!
That day, as usual, Ariana sat in the library until the sun outside slanted westward before returning to the Gryffindor common room.
Drop off the bag, eat dinner, rest a bit, and then exercise.
She couldn’t go dropping dead suddenly before achieving anything—if she did, even her tombstone would be nameless…
Absolute dealbreaker.
She had to take care of her body.
Maybe she could add another task to her morning routine, like running two laps around Hogwarts Castle after waking up…
or running around the Black Lake.
“Ouch!” Lost in thought, she bumped headfirst into someone in front of her.
Annoyed, she asked, “Who’s blocking the doorway?!” “Oh, sorry, Ariana,” Harry apologized, then said excitedly, “Did you see the noticeboard?
We have flying lessons this Thursday!” Ron walked over with a gloomy face: “Mate, did you even read the whole thing?
We’re having it with the Slytherins.” Harry’s expression immediately looked as if someone had shoved a lump of dog poop into his mouth while he was laughing out loud.
“No!” he groaned in agony.
“Why them again?
I don’t want to make a fool of myself riding a broom in front of Malfoy!” Ron, thoroughly sour, was now attacking everyone equally.
Seeing Ariana’s face remain calm made him even more annoyed.
“Oh, this isn’t a problem for our clever Miss Ariana, is it?
After all, she sits next to Malfoy in every Potions class, right?” he snarked.
“Malfoy definitely won’t laugh at her.” Ron, Harry, and Malfoy were like natural enemies.
Add in the house rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and Ariana’s insistence on dragging Malfoy to sit with her in Potions made her look like a traitor in their eyes.
They whispered and grumbled about it whenever they had the chance.
Of course, Malfoy wasn’t happy about it either.
But who cared about the opinions of a bunch of weaklings who couldn’t beat her in a fight?
“You know why Malfoy won’t mock me?” Ariana said with a sweet smile.
“Because if he dares say one extra word, I’ll use physical force to shut him up.” “Same goes for you if you keep running your mouth, Ron.” She whipped out her wand and cast a Blasting Curse at a wooden tissue box on the common room table.
Amidst a cloud of floating dust, she smiled sweetly.
“A lovely little firework, isn’t it?” She tossed her bag onto a chair and climbed back out of the common room without looking back.
In the dead silence, Ron swallowed with great difficulty.
After a long pause, he asked Harry in a trembling voice, “Say…
if I accidentally got into a fight with her, what do you think my win rate would be?” Harry answered blankly, “One-nine.” Ron felt flattered.
“I actually have a ten percent chance of winning?” “No.
One move from her, and you’re in the ninth circle of hell.” Ron felt a bit indignant and pushed further: “What if the two of us took her on together?” “Huh?
Me too?” Harry pointed at his own nose in shock, his glasses sliding down to the tip.
“Wouldn’t you help me?
We’re brothers!” Ron looked heartbroken.
Kindhearted Harry couldn’t bear to break his friend’s heart.
After careful consideration, he offered cautiously, “I can help collect your corpse.” “Hey!” Nevertheless, the news of flying lessons undoubtedly got all the young witches and wizards excited.
All the way up to Thursday breakfast, everyone talked incessantly about flying on broomsticks.
The main storytellers were mostly students from wizarding families.
Malfoy claimed he almost crashed into an airplane while riding a broomstick; Ron claimed he almost crashed into an airplane while riding a broomstick—what, were airplanes an essential part of wizard broom roleplay?
Hearing it, anyone could tell it was pure bragging.
Ariana didn’t believe a word.
Her fingers slid over the books inside her bag: *Quidditch Through the Ages*, *Which Broomstick*, *Flying with the Cannons*, *The Broom Care Handbook*, *Thoughts of a Quidditch Beater*…
Using keywords like “fly,” “broom,” and “Quidditch,” she had checked out the most popular titles in the library.
If not for the lack of time, she would have checked out even more!
Ariana stuffed her fried egg into her mouth with a bit of regret.
Hermione was enthusiastically sharing flying advice she had read in books with Neville nearby—she was another student who researched relevant texts before class, a trait Ariana greatly admired.
Various bird calls echoed as the owl post arrived.
Bloody hell.
Ariana hurriedly drank the last gulp of pumpkin juice.
Why did these owls always choose mealtime to deliver mail?
Had no one considered that the dust knocked up by their flapping wings might contaminate the food?
Ariana awkwardly swung her bag over her shoulder—the heavy bag acted like a sinker, spinning her halfway around on the spot.
She immediately scanned left and right.
Thank goodness no one saw.
Time to go, time to prep.
Today was a massive undertaking: Transfiguration and Charms in the morning, Herbology and Flying in the afternoon.
Still, all four courses were manageable; only Flying was a bit uncertain.
Not by much, though.
In theory, she had mastered almost everything.
Yesterday, she had even found a long branch near the edge of the Forbidden Forest to simulate riding a broomstick—though she hadn’t taken off, she was already familiar with the grip and posture.
She swore her broom-handling technique was identical to what was written in the books.
She felt there wouldn’t be any problem.
Full of confidence, Ariana could never have guessed that after a month of smooth sailing in every class, she was about to stumble hard in this flying lesson.