Things had developed so rapidly and explosively that by the time Mrs.
Brown finally snapped back to her senses, Ariana was already swaggering back with a heavy purse in hand.
“Show’s over, everyone, show’s over!
I completely misunderstood Mrs.
Smith earlier.
Though her kid might be a bit of a handful, she herself is a fine, right-minded mother!
She generously gave us a hefty sum in material and psychological compensation to soothe our wounded spirits, ensuring the orphanage kids get three meals a day with finger-thick steaks for the next week!
Let’s all give our thanks to this kind lady!” Ariana swept her hand like an orchestral conductor.
The bewildered little rugrats of the orphanage hadn’t quite caught up in spirit, but their bodies instinctively followed their leader.
“Thank you, Mrs.
Smith!
Thank you, great and kind lady!” Halfway through chanting, the meaning of her words finally sank in—good food every day for the next week—and they howled with even greater fervor and sincerity: “Thank you, Mrs.
Smith!” “Mrs.
Smith is so kind!” Their tender voices sounded like a flock of innocent lambs bleating in unison, melting the hearts of everyone listening.
The onlookers couldn’t help but smile.
As if witnessing the “and they all lived happily ever after” ending of a lovely fairy tale, everyone dispersed satisfied.
Some even complimented Mrs.
Smith as they left, “Who would’ve thought?
You’re actually a good person.” Mrs.
Smith was so stifled with indignation her insides felt twisted into pretzels.
She glared furiously at Ariana.
Ariana pinched the edges of her jeans and performed a comical princess curtsy.
“Thank you, kind lady.” As long as the money was right, she’d gladly spoon-feed her worst enemy.
So what if she had to offer a little emotional validation?
She’d give it!
Ariana thought magnanimously.
Though judging by the lady’s turning blue with rage, she didn’t seem to appreciate the sentiment at all.
Mrs.
Smith had never been so humiliated in her life, so much so that even her darling little son squirming on the ground suddenly looked less agreeable.
She unleashed a dragon-like roar at the fat little grub wriggling on the pavement: “What are you still lying on the ground for?!
Get up and come home with me!” Little Smith had never received such treatment from his doting mother.
He finally broke down, twisting his plump body as he wailed, “Waaah!
You’re yelling at me too…” He ran off crying and wailing.
Furious yet heartbroken, Mrs.
Smith scurried after her son.
*Sigh, not a single worthy opponent in sight.* Ariana clicked her tongue and swaggered over to Mrs.
Brown like a little street thug, dangling the purse from her finger.
“Did you see my brilliant performance, Susan?” She thrust the coin bag forward triumphantly, like a victorious little general.
“I’m back from the hunt!” “A bountiful harvest!
I’m telling you, you’d better give me two extra helpings of potatoes tonight.” Mrs.
Brown was so enraged she completely forgot about the secondary school headmaster standing nearby for an interview; right now, she just wanted to strangle this brat.
“Right…
What a glorious triumph…” Her tone was extraordinarily dangerous, but unfortunately, Ariana was walking on air and didn’t catch on.
“Haha, it’s nothing, it’s nothing!
Don’t take it to heart too much.” Ariana waved her hand like a gang boss.
“Oh, right, Susan—remember to buy yourself a new pair of rubber gloves.
Your hands are practically waterlogged from all that dishwater and laundry.” “Oh, and buy an ice cream for each of the younger kids.
Whenever I go out doing odd jobs, I always see them squatting in front of the ice cream truck looking pitiful.” The moment those words came out, it was as if a giant blanket of snow had smothered the roaring flame, dumping all the wind out of Mrs.
Brown’s sails.
She fell silent for a moment, then turned to Dumbledore beside her.
“You see, Mr.
Dumbledore…
although Ariana can be a bit mischievous and noisy at times, she really is a kindhearted child deep down.” Only then did Ariana realize a guest was present.
However— Dumbledore?
Inexplicably, Ariana felt the name sounded faintly familiar.
She stared intently at the silver-haired yet sprightly old man before her—and she could have sworn she had never met him before in her life.
The old man good-naturedly let the girl, who resembled a fierce little leopard, size him up.
“This is Mr.
Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts.
He’s agreed to let you attend his school, little Ari.” “What?” Ariana’s eyes instantly lit up—school, what a wonderful word!
Then something occurred to her, and she turned hesitant, facing Dumbledore.
“I’m very grateful that you’re giving me this chance, sir, and I really, really want to go to school…
but there’s something I probably ought to confess to you upfront.” “As you can see, I’m an orphan, so I probably can’t come up with much money for tuition,” Ariana bit her lip, speaking with urgent earnestness.
“I don’t know if your school allows work-study programs, or maybe student loans?
I swear I’ll work hard to earn money and pay it back in the future!” Mrs.
Brown said, “Ari, you don’t need to worry so much.
I still have some money saved up here.” “No, Susan,” Ariana said resolutely.
“You don’t have much money either, and there are so many other kids in the home.
Going to school is my own wish, not the orphanage’s obligation—you’ve already saved my life once.” Dumbledore watched the two of them showing such mutual consideration with genuine appreciation.
*This is a completely different child,* he thought.
“Ariana, rest assured that we would never allow any child whose name appears on our enrollment list to be denied an education due to financial hardship,” Dumbledore said with a warm smile.
“We provide a school bursary for every student in need.” “That’s wonderful!
Thank you so much, sir!
Once I finish my studies, I’ll definitely repay you!” Ariana bowed deeply with total sincerity.
“Oh, we don’t need your repayment,” the old man said, looking at her kindly and gently.
“You only need to grow up healthy and happy, just like any other child.” Ariana froze.
It felt as if she were living in a wonderful dream.
Ariana gave herself a sharp pinch.
The kindly old man before her was still smiling at her.
She bit her lip, her voice thick with emotion as she said solemnly, “Thank you, sir.
Truly.” Dumbledore patted her head and turned to Mrs.
Brown.
“Well then, I shall take the child to purchase her school supplies.” “Of course, of course.” Mrs.
Brown nodded repeatedly.
Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she wiped clean Ariana’s smudged little face.
“Ari, remember to mind Mr.
Dumbledore.” Her rubbing was a bit heavy-handed; Ariana squirming back, protested defensively, “I’m always obedient!” “You’d better be,” Mrs.
Brown scoffed lightheartedly.
She followed Dumbledore along the busy, bustling street.
Having calmed down now, she felt a bit embarrassed, so she tried to strike up a conversation: “Do you really not charge any money?
I mean for room, board, tuition…
none of it?” The wise old man, as if discerning the lingering anxiety in her heart, smiled and repeated, “Yes, of course.
We would never let any young wizard be unable to enter Hogwarts due to financial matters.” Ariana’s eyes crinkled into crescents—hearing it again still felt wonderful.
Wait…
wizard?
Ariana almost thought she had misheard.
“Sorry…
the word you just used…
wizard?” A look of bewilderment spread across her face, which had been set in a serious, grown-up expression.
Dumbledore was amused, his long white beard twitching slightly.
“Yes, wizard.” Like a playful old child, he gave her a mischievous wink.
“Don’t tell me that in all the time you can remember, nothing unusual has ever happened around you?
For instance, things floating into the air, or something suddenly shattering when you were angry?” Ariana recalled the rock that had rolled along the curb out of thin air a moment ago, and cleared her throat.
“There have been, sir.” She glanced around to ensure no one was looking.
“Like this.” A discarded piece of paper on the ground wobbled as it rose into the air, then floated with perfect precision into a distant rubbish bin—even taking a lopsided bow to its two spectators before tumbling inside.
Ariana lifted her chin high, looking just like a little kitten showing off a freshly caught mouse to its master.
“Most impressive,” Dumbledore marvelled, clapping his hands gently.
“To have such control over your magic at your age—a rare talent indeed.” Ariana beamed with pride once more and proclaimed, “Then I’m going to become the greatest wizard ever!” Whether it was just her imagination, she felt the old man before her choke for a split second.
But when she blinked and looked closer, he was as gentle as ever.
So she asked boldly, “How are we going to buy those things?
By taking the Underground?” In truth, Ariana wanted to see more magic, but she was too shy to say it out loud.
“Little Ari, perhaps you could forgive an old man low on stamina for wanting to use a somewhat faster method?” Dumbledore seemed to see right through her thoughts, giving her another sly wink.
“Though it isn’t particularly comfortable.” “Of course!” Ariana said eagerly.
“Then hold onto my arm tightly, please.” Ariana felt bewildered but instinctively obeyed.
All at once, the world spun wildly.
It felt as though she were crumpled up and tossed into a washing machine on the spin cycle, pressure squeezing her from every direction.
Fortunately, just a second before she threw up, they came to a halt, standing before an unfamiliar street.
“Are you alright?” Dumbledore asked with concern.
Ariana felt her own ears in a daze—it felt as though they hadn’t quite adjusted to moving along with her head and wanted to flee back to the street they’d just left.
“I’m…
I’m okay.” She bravely inquired, “What was that?” “Apparition.
A common method of travel among wizards—very convenient, though it carries a bit of danger if not executed properly.” Dumbledore looked at Ariana, who clearly hadn’t taken the second half of his sentence to heart and was practically raring to try it, and added, “Only wizards who pass the test at seventeen are permitted to use it.” The light in Ariana’s eyes instantly died out.
Dumbledore chuckled instead.
“Well then, welcome to our first stop—the Leaky Cauldron.” He pointed to the dark, dingy pub in front of them.
“A very famous, wonderful place.”