Ariana’s excitement carried over all the way into class.
Today’s Charms lesson was on the Levitation Charm.
Malfoy, who had already mastered it long ago, was smugly directing his feather to flutter wildly around the room as if it were still attached to a pompous goose, earning a round of flatteries from Crabbe and Goyle.
Puffed up with praise, he felt top of the world.
Turning his head, he spotted Ariana staring into space, blinking, clearly distracted.
Hey, her feather hadn’t lifted an inch!
Malfoy became even more delighted.
He raised his chin with supreme arrogance.
“Yo, if it isn’t Gryffindor’s little genius!
What’s wrong?
Can’t even pull off a simple Levitation Charm?” As he mocked her, he deliberately guided his feather to bob up and down right in front of Ariana’s face, showing off conspicuously.
However, maintaining this was a test of magic control.
Malfoy had to exert tremendous effort to keep his face composed so he’d look completely relaxed—though sweat was already trickling down his temple.
*Doesn’t matter, Rich must be awestruck by now!* Malfoy encouraged himself.
Ariana snapped back to reality and rolled her eyes at this noisily squeaking light bulb.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” She tapped her wand at the feather on her desk.
The long white feather shot up with a *whoosh* and slapped straight toward the white plume dancing in her face.
*Smack!* Malfoy’s feather was slapped into a wild mid-air tumble, landing stuck right into his hair.
A gentle breeze blew past, causing it to quiver erratically.
Combined with Malfoy’s stunned expression, he looked just like a dumb golden rooster growing a white crest.
Ariana burst into a snort of laughter.
“Rich, you rude, impolite, violent woman!” Mindful of Professor Flitwick, Malfoy threw a hushed tantrum.
“My hair!” “Wow, how do you have the nerve to call *me* impolite, Malfoy?” Ariana asked in shock.
“Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!
Does the crow standing on a coal pile only see other people’s blackness and not its own?
The Malfoy family is so rich, didn’t they buy you a single mirror?” “You—you—you…” Malfoy nearly squawked in rage, stammering frantically in a desperate attempt to prove something.
“Ha!
Of course my family is rich!
Don’t judge me with your pauper’s mindset—every single one of my eighteen rooms has a mirror!” “Shut up!” Pauper Ariana couldn’t stand hearing this—*there are so many damn rich people in the world, why couldn’t I be one of them?!* In an instant, she went full master of sarcasm: “Fine, fine, noble young master.
I know that even if you’re impolite, everyone around you treats you with utmost politeness—with hair combed so slick and shiny, even a fly landing on it would have to bow to you first.
My mistake for offending you.” “However,” she drawled out playfully, “I’m so very sorry.
I can’t even cast a simple Levitation Charm properly, and accidentally knocked your feather away—say, if your control over your feather were a bit stronger, wouldn’t it have avoided getting knocked away by me?
Not to criticize, but you really should reflect on yourself.” She sounded solemn and earnest, every word dripping with patronizing old-timer arrogance.
“You—you—you—” Malfoy’s pale face flushed red with rage, his grey-blue eyes glaring at her.
Ariana asked in surprise, “What are you looking at me for?
Don’t tell me our mighty Master Malfoy can’t even make his own feather fly back?” “Ha!
Who are you looking down on!” In a fit of exasperation, Malfoy flicked his wand.
His feather wavered as it floated back, giving Ariana’s feather a fierce whack.
Ariana raised an eyebrow.
Her feather immediately delivered a flying roundhouse kick back!
The two fought a feather duel for the rest of the class.
Fortunately, the classroom was chaotic enough—some blew up their feathers, some hit other objects with their wands, some squawked and argued, and others shouted instructions across the room.
Flitwick didn’t have the chance to dock points from either of them.
The Feather War finally ended with Malfoy’s feather snapping in half.
When the bell rang, Ariana swung her bookbag over her shoulder with her chin held high, patting Malfoy on the shoulder: “Little Malfoy, this won’t do.
You still need more practice, huh.” She stomped away briskly.
Malfoy was nearly beside himself with rage.
He whipped his head toward Goyle.
“What is she so smug about!
She just got lucky with a sturdier feather, that’s all!
What’s so great about her?” Goyle flinched, answering blankly, “Are you talking about Rich?
Ah, her charms are pretty impressive, her Transfiguration is good too, and Potions seems…” Malfoy’s eyes shot fire as he roared at his clueless minion: “Did I ask you what’s so great about her?!
Go eat your food, Goyle, you brainless idiot stuffed with bread!” He turned on his heel and stormed off furiously.
*Potter!
Rich!* *Damned Gryffindors!* *Not a single good one among them!* Left behind, Goyle hadn’t quite processed what happened.
Feeling a bit wronged, he muttered as he caught up, “Didn’t you just ask me what’s so great about her?” *** Ariana didn’t care about anyone else’s bickering.
After conscientiously finishing a whole day of classes, she hugged a pile of stuff and set out to find an empty bathroom—she planned to style herself for Halloween.
However, she didn’t want anyone to see her, so she kept sneaking into quiet corners until she finally found a completely deserted bathroom.
Facing the mirror, she began styling her hair.
She divided her long hair into two sections and rolled them up into cat-ear buns on top of her head—that’s right, she was dressing up as a black cat today.
It was a bit tricky, and her arms grew sore from holding them up, but fortunately, she succeeded in the end.
Then she conjured two red fluffy pom-poms and tied them onto the cat-ear buns.
She deliberately left a bit of string above the pom-poms; with a toss of her head, the two small spheres bounced cheerfully around her head.
Ariana looked at herself in the mirror and sighed with a touch of regret.
It was just that her current Transfiguration skills weren’t quite top-notch yet, otherwise wouldn’t it be much more fun to directly transfigure a real pair of cat ears onto herself?
Ah, she shouldn’t think about it—the more she thought, the more she wanted real cat ears.
She pointed her wand at her hair buns, opening and closing her mouth, not quite daring to make the move.
She only had this one head of hair.
If she messed it up and couldn’t change it back, what would she do?
—At this moment, she completely forgot how she hadn’t hesitated for a single second when targeting Malfoy’s head earlier.
Ariana’s eyes darted around, and she pulled a roll of parchment from her bag—*let me try on this first.* *She was a genius!* Ariana rubbed her successfully transfigured cat ears with delight, her tail practically sticking straight into the sky with pride.
The little girl in the mirror had fair skin and red lips, a faint blush floating on her cheeks, and a delicate chin held high.
The two fluffy cat ears stood erect on her head, her proud posture making her look like the spitting image of a smug, wicked little witch.
“I’m so amazing!” Ariana cackled in self-intoxication at her reflection.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall, tell me who is the smartest, most incredible little witch in the world?” “You…
your Transfiguration self-study has already reached this far?” A voice still laden with sniffling suddenly rang out in the quiet bathroom, scaring Ariana—who was admiring herself in the mirror—so badly that she let out a screech and jumped in the air, her cat ears pinning back flat against her head.
“Who’s there?!” With her fur bristling, she stared at a head slowly poking out from a stall—the other person was clearly startled by her dramatic reaction too, her bushy hair bouncing like springs.
Hermione stammered, “Your Transfiguration spell is really good…
I remember this is content from the last few chapters of the textbook.” “Yes.” Ariana answered dryly.
Although she often praised herself, it was always in secret when no one was around.
And her choice of words…
being overheard by someone else was utterly embarrassing, ahhhh!
Ariana stared at Hermione, pondering whether knocking her out would make her forget the scene that had just unfolded.
Perhaps because her gaze was too bizarre, Hermione couldn’t take it anymore and spoke up again, “I didn’t eavesdrop on purpose.
I was here first.” Ariana gave another dry response.
That sounded somewhat reasonable.
But she still felt humiliated.
Could she come up with a topic that would naturally and subtly get Hermione to promise never to speak a word of this?
Ariana’s brain worked frantically as her feet seemed rooted to the spot—her current position blocked the mandatory path out the door.
That way, if Hermione suddenly tried to bolt, she could intercept her—before leaving, she had to negotiate a confidentiality agreement.
It was just that she was a bit embarrassed to bring it up now.
Ariana silently stared at Hermione.
Fortunately, Hermione didn’t try to run either, but she stopped talking as well, biting her lower lip and staring at the floor.
A dead silence fell between the two, the air almost freezing solid from the awkwardness.
Only then did Ariana notice that Hermione’s eyes were swollen red, looking as though she had been crying.
An idea instantly struck her—what she thought was a brilliant way to introduce the topic.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked softly in a sweet, gentle tone.
Then, to her horror, she saw Hermione—with her peach-like swollen eyes—burst into loud wails.
Ariana’s cat ears flattened into airplane ears once more, her eyes widening into round circles: *Wait, I haven’t even started threatening you yet!*