Fulfilling days slipped silently past like water, and Ariana was so deeply immersed in her own world that it wasn’t until much later that she learned Harry had received a broomstick.
That didn’t lessen her shock when she finally heard the news, however.
“What did you say?
You got a brand-new, latest-model Nimbus 2000?” Ariana’s eyes were wide and round.
The light from the wall torches cast a golden veil over her face, tinting even the fine peach fuzz on her cheeks a bright gold.
Harry shifted his gaze, feeling a sudden warmth in his cheeks.
“Yeah.” “Who gave it to you?” Ariana pressed forward relentlessly, leaning right in front of Harry’s face.
Harry felt as if the nearby candlelight was burning his skin.
“Professor McGonagall.” “Professor McGonagall gave you a *what*?” Ariana’s voice pitched upward.
Harry repeated patiently, “A Nimbus 2000.” “Who gave you a Nimbus Two Thousand?!” “Alright, Ariana!
Even if you ask Harry a hundred more times, Professor McGonagall still gave Harry a Nimbus 2000—the newest model!” Ron interrupted testily, annoyed by the conversation repeating beside him for the umpteenth time.
“No, but *why*?” Ariana stumbled over her words, completely dazed by the news.
It wasn’t that she particularly wanted a broomstick—to this day, she still threw up every time she climbed onto a broom and felt physically nauseous at the sight of tree branches.
She just couldn’t believe that Professor McGonagall (*emphasis*) would actually pay out of pocket (*emphasis*) to buy Harry (*gritting teeth*) a Nimbus 2000!
(*teeth almost grinding to dust*) The newly released Nimbus 2000!
That cost hundreds of Galleons!
Did Professor McGonagall like Harry *that* much?
Why?
She was the one who finished tasks first in every single class, actively reviewed and prepared, listened attentively, interacted with teachers, and consistently earned Os on homework and essays!
She was so well-behaved—why wasn’t she Professor McGonagall’s favorite student?
Or failing that, it should at least be Hermione!
When the two of them were turning matches into needles, Harry’s match hadn’t even twitched!
Ariana’s gaze swept over Harry like a pair of knives from head to toe, earnestly searching for any superior quality in Harry that she might have overlooked.
“Why does Professor McGonagall like you so much?” she asked sourly, her eyes dark and gloomy.
Harry felt a chill run down his spine under her stare.
He said weakly, “Maybe…
it wasn’t just a gift…
It’s because I joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team and needed a broom?
You know, since I’m the Seeker.” That made sense.
Ariana bit her lower lip hard, her indignation deflating all at once.
It was true.
Harry had become the Gryffindor Quidditch Seeker, and as the Head of House, it was perfectly reasonable and logical for Professor McGonagall to provide him with essential equipment…
after all, Quidditch matches were taken very seriously at Hogwarts.
Besides, Harry really was gifted at flying.
It was just like back at the orphanage when she participated in the arithmetic competition, and Mrs.
Brown had bought her a brand-new fountain pen.
So she could only blame her own lack of talent in flying, which prevented her from joining the Quidditch team to bring honor to the school.
Only outstanding people were liked by others, wasn’t that right?
It was other people’s right to like whomever they wanted, and their freedom to give gifts to whomever they chose.
You hadn’t contributed anything, so what right did you have to feel possessive over someone else’s affection and choices?
Ariana admonished herself inwardly.
“I’m sorry, Harry.
I got fixated on something stupid.
You fly brilliantly.
Keep it up.” Ariana stood up.
“I’m going back to the dorm.” Harry abruptly stood up as well.
Meeting Ariana’s slightly surprised gaze, the courage he had mustered deflated like a punctured balloon.
“Er, Ariana…
I meant to ask, do you want to try out my broom?” Harry asked, his face red as he stumbled over his words.
Hearing Harry’s generous offer, Ariana felt a rare, fleeting pang of guilt—Harry was such a good guy, yet she had secretly been envying him just now.
She really deserved to die.
Bah!
She didn’t deserve to die at all!
Her tiny bit of envy toward Harry just showed how highly she regarded him—otherwise, why wouldn’t she envy anyone else?
Ariana was exceptionally good at forgiving herself.
“Thank you, Harry, but I’ve been a bit busy lately.
If I ever want to try it, I’ll let you know.” She took two steps, then paused and turned back to say once more, “Thank you, really, Harry.” “Ah, no problem, no problem!” Harry waved his hands frantically like a fool.
“Whenever you want to play with it, just come find me.” Ariana smiled at him, her shoes tapping lightly against the stone steps as she went upstairs.
– At some unknown hour in the middle of the night, the dormitory was pitch-black.
Everyone else was asleep, their breathing long and shallow.
Ariana lay in bed, watching the bright moonlight seep through a gap in the bed curtains, casting clear shadows over the small floral pattern on her duvet.
Her gaze aimlessly followed the moonlight as it drifted across the blanket.
In the peaceful silence, her eyelids gradually fluttered shut.
Unbidden, Harry’s beautiful broomstick floated into her mind once more.
In the future, would someone ever give her such a precious gift?
Ariana rolled over, thinking drowsily: *Oh well, it doesn’t matter if no one gives me anything.
I couldn’t afford to give a gift of equal value back anyway.* *…Besides, no one would ever like her that much.* *She didn’t even have a single best friend yet.* – When morning light woke her the next day, Ariana was still a bit groggy—when had she fallen asleep last night?
Then she remembered the silly, angsty thoughts she had indulged in before sleeping and buried her face into her pillow in shame.
She was so old already—old enough to be in middle school in the Muggle world!
Why was she still obsessing over not receiving gifts or not having friends?
Childish!
Utterly childish!
Ariana despised herself in her heart.
She burrowed into her soft pillow like a grumpy little pig, then sat up abruptly and slammed her fist into the pillow.
So what if no one liked her?
She liked herself!
So what if she had no friends?
Who cared about being friends with childish kids who couldn’t even manage an Exceeds Expectations on an essay and refused to study hard?
And so what if no one gave her gifts?
When she grew up, she would buy gifts for herself!
She would buy two of everything—use one, throw one away!
Humming to herself, Ariana climbed out of bed.
She must have had too much free time lately to be overthinking things like this—she was going to the library to thoroughly wash away her restless thoughts with knowledge.
Shouldering her bag, she walked out of the Gryffindor common room, greeted by the rich smell of pumpkin wafting on the breeze.
Only then did she realize that it was already Halloween Eve—how could she have forgotten such an important holiday?
Back at the orphanage, the children had loved this holiday the most.
On this day, they would gather their accumulated treasures—such as feathers from unknown birds, tattered but clean blankets, or colorful balls of yarn—and dress up as strange, bizarre creatures, then walk brazenly down the street knocking on every door for candy.
It was the day they harvested the most while receiving the fewest cold stares.
Even the crotchety old lady at the end of the street would hand them a palmful of cheap sweets.
Then they would pile all the trick-or-treated candy high, sitting around the table playing games, bobbing their heads in celebration like little dragon hatchlings surrounding loot they had won through their own efforts.
Ariana felt a wave of anticipation rise within her.
Halloween at Hogwarts would surely be even more special, wouldn’t it?
Halloween in the wizarding world ought to be far more thrilling, rich, and entertaining!
She wondered if Headmaster Dumbledore would invite any famous celebrities to Hogwarts to liven up the atmosphere.
It really made a person look forward to it.