Halloween Eve

Fulfilling days slipped away silently like water, and Eliana immersed herself so completely in her own world that it was a long time before she learned the news that Harry had obtained a flying broomstick.

Yet this did not prevent her from feeling shocked upon hearing the news.

"What did you say, you got a brand-new, latest-model Nimbus 2000?"

Eliana's eyes rounded, the light of the torches on the wall seeming to drape a layer of golden gauze over her face, and the tiny downy hairs on her cheeks seemingly dyed gold as well.

Harry shifted his gaze away as if he had been scalded: "Yes."

"Who gave it to you?" Eliana pressed closer, pushing her face right up to Harry's without relenting.

Harry felt as though the candlelight nearby were burning his face: "Professor McGonagall."

"Professor McGonagall gave you a what?" Eliana's voice rose.

Harry repeated good-naturedly: "A Nimbus 2000."

"Who gave you a Nimbus Two Thousand???"

"Alright Eliana, even if you ask Harry a hundred times, Professor McGonagall has already given the Nimbus 2000 to Harry, exactly that latest model."

Ron, annoyed by the conversation repeating for who knew how many times right beside him, chimed in with bad grace.

"No, why?" Eliana stammered incoherently, the whole of her dazed and bewildered by this news.

She did not even want a broomstick that much—she still threw up every time she got on a broom to this day, and just seeing a tree fork made her physically nauseous—she simply could not believe that Professor McGonagall (emphasis) would actually shell out of her own pocket (emphasis) to buy Harry (gritting her teeth) a Nimbus 2000! (her teeth practically grinding to pieces)

The newly released Nimbus 2000! It cost hundreds of Galleons! Did Professor McGonagall like Harry that much?

Why? She was the one who finished her tasks first every lesson, actively reviewed and previewed, listened attentively in class and interacted with the teachers, while her homework essays after class were always O—she was so well-behaved, why wasn't Professor McGonagall's favorite student her?

At the very least it ought to be Hermione; when the two of them could turn needles, Harry's matchstick hadn't even stirred, hey.

Eliana's gaze scraped Harry up and down like a knife, earnestly searching for what traits Harry had that far surpassed hers and which she had overlooked.

"Why does Professor McGonagall like you so much?" she asked sourly, her gaze gloomy.

Harry was creeped out by her stare, and he said weakly: "Maybe, this isn't simply a gift... It's because I joined the Gryffindor Quidditch Team and needed a broom, right? I mean, I'm a Seeker."

That was true.

Eliana bit her lip hard, suddenly deflated.

Indeed, Harry had become Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and as their Head of House, Professor McGonagall providing him with an essential piece of equipment was entirely reasonable and logical... After all, Quidditch matches were taken very seriously at Hogwarts.

Moreover, Harry genuinely had a talent for flying.

Just like when she participated in the arithmetic competition back at the orphanage, and Mrs. Brown bought her a new fountain pen.

So she could only blame herself for lacking talent in flying, unable to become a member of the Quidditch team and win glory for the school.

Only excellent people could be liked by others, wasn't that so?

Whom other people liked was their right, and whose gifts they wanted to give was also their freedom; you hadn't contributed anything, so what right did you have to be possessive over other people's affections and choices?

Eliana admonished herself in her heart.

"Sorry Harry, I was splitting hairs. You fly brilliantly, keep it up." Eliana stood up, "I'm heading back to the dormitory first."

Harry also stood up abruptly in follow, and meeting Eliana's somewhat surprised gaze, his mustered courage deflated once more like a deflated balloon.

"Uh, Eliana, I meant to say, do you want to try my broom?"

Harry said with a red face and stumbling words.

Listening to Harry's generous words, for once Eliana felt a tiny twinge of guilt in her heart—Harry was such a nice person, yet she had just been secretly envying him, she really was awful.

Bah, she wasn't awful at all; that she could hold even a tiny bit of envy toward Harry was doing him a favor, otherwise why didn't she envy anyone else?

Eliana was exceptionally skilled at forgiving herself.

"Thank you Harry, but I've been a bit busy lately. If I have need of it, I'll ask you."

She took two steps, paused, and said to Harry again: "Really, thank you, Harry."

"Ah no, no, no." Harry foolishly waved his hands frantically, "Well, if you want to play with it, you can come find me anytime."

Eliana smiled at him, and clattered heavily up the stairs.

Who knew what time in the middle of the night it was, the dormitory was pitch black, and everyone else was asleep, their breathing long and light.

Eliana lay on her bed, watching bright moonlight stream in along the unpulled bed curtains, the tiny floral print on the bedsheet clearly visible.

Her gaze drifted aimlessly with the moonlight across the quilt, and in the tranquil silence, her eyelids gradually closed.

Unbidden, Harry's pretty broom floated into her mind again.

Would someone ever give her such a precious gift in the future?

Eliana turned over, thinking hazily that never mind, it didn't matter if no one gave her one, she wouldn't be able to return the favor anyway.

...And no one would like her that much.

She didn't even have a single good friend to this day.

When she was awakened by the morning light the next day, Eliana was still somewhat dazed—when had she fallen asleep last night?

Then she recalled those tangled little worries before sleep, and buried herself back into her pillow in a fit of embarrassment.

She was so old, old enough for middle school in the Muggle World, so why was she still fretting over no one giving her gifts and having no friends?

Childish, far too childish!

Eliana scorned herself in her heart.

She wriggled about in the soft pillow like a sulking little piglet, then sat up abruptly and punched the pillow.

So what if no one liked her? She liked herself!

So what if she didn't have friends? Those childish kids who couldn't even get an E on their essays and wouldn't study properly, who bothered wanting to be friends with them?

So what if no one gave her gifts? When she grew up, she would buy them for herself.

She'd buy two, throw one away for every one she kept!

Humming softly, Eliana climbed down from the bed.

She must have been far too idle lately to have the spare time to let her imagination run wild—she was going to the library to thoroughly scrub her restless mind with knowledge.

She walked out of the Gryffindor Common Room with her school bag on her back, and caught the thick scent of pumpkin drifting on the wind.

Only then did she realize that Halloween Eve had arrived—how could she have forgotten such an important holiday?

The children at the orphanage used to love this holiday most of all; on this day, they would use the treasures they had saved up—such as unknown bird feathers, shabby but clean blankets, or balls of yarn in various colors—to dress themselves up in weird costumes, and then go knock on every door in the street to beg for candy with a clear conscience.

—This was the day they reaped the most and received the fewest cold stares; even the crankiest old lady at the end of the street would give them a handful of bad-tasting candy.

Then they would pile their begged-for candy high together, sitting around the table playing various games, nodding their heads and celebrating like little dragon cubs gathered around their hard-earned spoils.

Anticipation welled up in Eliana's heart—Halloween at Hogwarts must be even more different, shouldn't it?

Halloween in the magical world ought to be even more exciting, more abundant, and more interesting, right? She wondered if Headmaster Dumbledore would invite some famous figures to Hogwarts to liven up the atmosphere?

It was enough to make one look forward to it.

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