Perhaps because she wasn’t used to the new environment yet, or perhaps because she had eaten too much and the bed was too soft, Ariana slept deeply.
She didn’t open her eyes until seven fifteen the next morning.
When Ariana realized what time it was, she scrambled out of bed in a panic.
She couldn’t believe she had slept in so late!
She had gone to bed before ten last night!
Today was the first day of class!
She hadn’t even re-memorized her textbooks!
*Ariana, oh Ariana, how could you become so degenerate!* Ariana dashed into the bathroom.
Ariana bolted out of the dormitory.
Parvati, in the bed across from her, muttered groggily, “What on earth just zoomed past?” Lavender didn’t even open her eyes.
“Must’ve been someone’s giant black rat running into the wrong dorm.” By then, Ariana was already seated at the Gryffindor table, mashing fried eggs, mashed potatoes, and sausages into a slice of bread to quickly stuff her stomach.
“There’s a Transfiguration class this morning,” she muttered, studying her newly issued timetable.
“I can squeeze in some time to do a detailed preview of Chapter One again—damn it, I memorized the words easily enough, but I don’t understand what some of them mean.
That’s because I’ve never been exposed to magic before.
I’m falling behind!” She clutched her hair in anxiety.
“Where’s my notebook?
My pen…
wand…
good, everything’s here.” She inspected her gear like a general reviewing her troops.
“Now, hurry back to the dorm to grab my books!” Ariana blazed a trail back to the dorms and then hurried toward the classroom without stopping.
Granted, she didn’t know the way, but she had a mouth to ask.
If the portrait at the Gryffindor entrance was smart enough to act as a doorkeeper, there was no way the gallery portraits were idiots who didn’t even know their own tomb…
err, living environment!
Besides, the portraits were incredibly enthusiastic, especially a young girl wearing a flower wreath.
Ariana had merely glanced at her while passing by, and the girl followed her from frame to frame, chatting nonstop.
By the time Ariana reached the second floor, she already knew that Dumbledore’s underpants today were red.
Why on earth did she need to know the color of Dumbledore’s underpants?
Could she sell that information for Galleons?
Still, she was a chatterbox herself.
The two of them jabbered all the way.
Whenever they passed other picture frames, the portraits inside joined in the chatter and followed along for the ride.
By the time she reached the Transfiguration classroom, over a dozen men, women, young, and old were crammed into the single frame outside the door.
“What are you doing?!
What are you doing?!” The frame’s original occupant, a nineteenth-century sailor, was squished flat against the glass, his face distorted as he yelled in panic.
“Don’t you have your own frames?!
Has the craze for overseas colonial expansion spread to the portrait realm?!” “Shut up, you idiot!
Do you think we’re like you?” The wreath girl took off her flower crown, swatted him with it, then turned to Ariana with a beaming smile.
“Well, darling, we’ll leave you here.
Bye-bye!” “Bye!” Ariana plunged into the Transfiguration classroom and looked around—great, she was the first to arrive!
She triumphantly slapped her textbook onto the front desk directly facing the podium with a loud *THUD*.
The noise was so sharp it caused a pair of cat ears on the podium to twitch, followed by a cat head popping up.
“Whoa—as expected of a magic school.” Ariana stared at the tabby cat.
“This cat looks smarter than Ron.” She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but the cat seemed to be glaring at her with a dead serious expression.
*See?
I told you this cat was smart!
It notices when a student isn’t studying the moment they enter the classroom and glares at them!* Ariana recalled that witches in stories usually had cats.
Looking closely at the cat’s markings, which matched Professor McGonagall’s spectacle frames almost perfectly, realization struck— *This cat is a teaching assistant!
It’s a undercover tactic used by the professor to monitor students’ study habits between classes from a sneaky angle!* For some reason, Ariana felt a strange sense of familiarity with this setup, as if she had seen it many times before—though the orphanage classroom certainly didn’t have CCTV cameras; they had to save electricity on lightbulbs, so where would they get the money for that?
*Was it a memory from before?* Ariana gave her head a frustrating punch.
*Useless brain!
Losing your memory over a mild fever!
If you’re going to forget, forget everything!
Why pop up random crumbs to tickle my curiosity, only to leave me drawing a blank when I try to think about it?!* *How is this any different from feeling like you have to poop, but being completely constipated?!* Ariana gave her head another *BANG*.
*Stupid head growing on my body—as if I can’t discipline you!* She caught the tabby cat on the podium wearing a look of sheer shock and instantly snapped back to reality.
*Scenario: You know the teacher has sent a little spy to observe students between classes.* *Scenario: You are currently the only student present, and the spy’s eyes are locked on you.* *—If not now, when to perform?
First impressions are everything!* Ariana delicately held the edge of the page and flipped her book open, underlining and highlighting Chapter One.
Then she cleared her throat and recited it from memory from start to finish.
“The impression from my summer preview is still there, but perhaps because I haven’t been exposed to magic before, I memorized many concepts without fully understanding them.
I still need to pay close attention during class later,” Ariana muttered to herself.
Then, pretending to open her notebook, she slyly glanced out of the corner of her eye— Sure enough, she saw the cat’s whiskers twitch, looking somewhat satisfied.
Ariana worked hard to analyze the expression behind that furry cat face.
*Hmph!
Indeed!
NO ONE can suck up to teachers better than her!* Ariana tilted her chin up toward the ceiling in pure pride.
After indulging in self-satisfaction for a moment, she dutifully reined herself in and immersed herself back in the textbook.
When the bell rang, the cat on the podium leaped down and transformed into Professor McGonagall.
!!!
Ariana’s eyes went wide.
*So cool!
Want to learn!* But Professor McGonagall didn’t teach them that.
She simply laid down the classroom rules in a stern tone, such as “no fooling around in class” and “Transfiguration is extremely complex and dangerous”—a point Ariana agreed with, nodding vigorously.
Mrs.
Brown’s blown-up chair was living proof!
Perhaps because of Ariana’s earlier comment about “not understanding the concepts,” Professor McGonagall explained the theory in great detail to everyone—though those concepts remained complex and obscure, like a tangled ball of yarn, everyone managed to catch a glimpse of the thread ends.
Ariana’s confidence surged—her brain felt like it got it!
Afterward, Professor McGonagall handed out a match to everyone, instructing them to practice turning the match into a needle.
Ariana ran through the theory in her mind, took a deep breath, and rolled her wand wrist with full confidence—ready— *BOOM!* The match was blasted into the air, bursting into flames mid-flight.
Oops.
She had exploded too many chestnuts before the school term started; muscle memory had triggered a firecracker jinx as a warm-up.
She sheepishly went back to Professor McGonagall to fetch another match.
This time, she didn’t dare try any flashy moves.
She honestly recited the incantation twice in her head—making sure it was accurate—and swished her wand in the exact wrist motion Professor McGonagall had demonstrated.
A familiar sensation welled up, as if a surge of warm energy gathered inside her body and burst out from her wand tip.
The match flashed and transformed into a grayish, toothpick-like stick that looked thoroughly charred.
Something felt wrong—damn it, that previous explosion had thrown her off!
Ariana wiped the image of the charred stick from her mind and brainwashed herself anew: She wanted to turn it into a silver needle, a shiny, bright, glittering…
Ah, if only it could turn into silver beans instead.
She couldn’t even imagine what a cheerful little girl she would be!
Saliva drooled from the corner of her mouth at the thought.
“Ow!” Neville, sitting nearby, panicked at Professor McGonagall’s approach and accidentally knocked his ink bottle to the floor.
The loud noise sent him leaping up like a startled rabbit, bumping into Ron, who was secretly picking his nose beside him.
The crusty little delicacy that Ron had just loosened inside his nostril was on the verge of falling out!
Ariana: !!!
Subconsciously, she wanted to use her wand to shove Ron away, forgetting that her incantation had just reached its tail end.
*BANG!* She heard Hermione scream beside her as silver beans came cascading out of Ron’s nose, about to shower all over her.
Realizing what those silver beans were made of, Ariana’s pupils shrank.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” she bellowed.
The silver beans froze in midair—and before she could sigh in relief, her sheer excitement while casting caused the spell to overshoot.
The silver beans didn’t stay put; instead, they shot upward like cannonballs.
*Thump-thump-thump-thump!* One after another, they fired back toward their place of origin.
“HELP!!!” The silver beans blasted rapidly back into Ron’s nostrils.
He only had time to give one final wail before his eyes rolled back, and he fainted on the spot.
Ariana lost one point—for attacking a classmate with transfigured boogers—err, no, for disrupting class order.